kodachi@surfsouth.com (Rhonda Schell)



        This story is a direct result of the Church of the Black Rose's
Black Rose Mailing List October Challenge of Doom (and isn't THAT Just a
tongue twister?) Be on the look out for others -- "Butaga", "Bloodless in
Nerima", "Visitors" and two others the titles of which, I'm ashamed to say,
escape me just now. ^_^ The Challenge of Doom came about when Paul Herring
spoke up with the infamous words, "You know, it's the centennial year for
Stoker's _Dracula_ and Halloween *is* coming up..." Needless to say, this
is where it's led. Hope you like it. ^_^  rls


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             * Standard Takahashi/Viz/Shogakakun disclaimer  *
             * Standard R. Schell disclaimer. Standard lemon *
             * disclaimer. The lemon bits aren't the squishy *
             * variety and are pertinent to the story line   *
             * (one hopes!) On with the story!!              *
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     This is for Jason; somewhere, sometime, happiness finds us all...


                              Crimson Thorns

                      Crimson crying crawling for you,
                      My daemon dark lover,
                      and the snow is stained
                      Pink with proof of my passion.

        Dancing with the fireflies in nighttime rhapsody, a favorite of
hers that drew her, night after night, to the flickering skylines of Tokyo.
Here, there was no "Black Rose", no "twisted sister", no Ranma looking at
her as if she were some kind of horrifying creature. Here, there was only
Kodachi and the dance, ribbons flying around her as if they were some part
of her, mystic proportions of motion belonging to her and her alone.

        Here, there was a newcomer, a darker shadow amongst the shadows
that watched the dance nightly. His name, for lack of a better one, was
Romalov; a wanderer much like Kodachi, one who had spent too long peering
into naught but the dark pit of the night.

        There was much about her to catch his attention. The green dress
she had worn before flinging it away to reveal the black leotard beneath
was a style not often seen in the last century and her motions were
graceful the way few women's were aside from roving Gypsies and Japanese
geishas. There was a dark sensuality underlying this woman's dance, a
sensuality that tugged at him to come closer, closer, to truly look at her
and determine more about her.

        Romalov clenched his fist when first he saw her face, barely
keeping the gasp of surprise between his teeth. Her eyes! Her eyes, the
same that had haunted him forever, eternally, the eyes that had kept him
running from one side of the world to another. The one that he'd never
thought to find again and he found her dancing for him in the dark.

        He stepped forward into the wavering radiance provided by the neon
lights of Tokyo, abandoning the friendly shadows as she whirled and
whirled, embodying passion and love and fever and forever. This was his
need, this was his One. He took her in his arms and danced with her,
enraptured even as she was entranced.

        "Your name, Beloved?"

        "Kodachi. Kuno Kodachi."

        His lips brushed hers, cool in the cold night air. "You're mine,"
he whispered, tenderly stroking a tendril of her hair away from her
perspiration damp face. "Mine and mine alone."

        "Yours," she whispered dreamily. "Yours, and I won't forget it."

        "Not if it takes years?"

        "Not if it takes centuries."

        With that, he stepped once again into his world of shadows, removed
himself from the pattern and watched her fly. {Forget,} he thought.
{Forget.} And he was gone.

        Kodachi slowed, her eyes opening. She felt so dizzy, so...
confused. Wasn't there someone here, just a moment ago? A man with dark
hair and blue eyes and... No. There was no one, nothing but a fantasy of
her Ranma-sama come to taunt her here in her lair. She slumped tiredly to
the roof, gasping quietly. She had danced too long, i' faith, for she'd
lost track of time and rhythm. That meant that it was time to go home; time
to go home and rest.

        He watched her leave from the alley below, saw her jumping from
rooftop to rooftop. {I'll find you again. And this time, I won't let you
go.}

                                 * * * * *

        Kodachi yawned listlessly, her eyes drooping slightly as she sat in
the library reading quietly. Gothic literature was one of her favorite
genres and yet she could barely keep her eyes from falling closed! She must
have danced too much tonight, after all. "Brother dear, I believe that I
shall hie myself hence to the baths and to bed," she announced, stifling
yet another yawn with the back of her hand.

        Kuno raised an eyebrow. So soon, my sister? 'Tis only eleven, not
so late an hour, methinks, as you are accustomed to keeping."

        "Indeed, brother dear, and yet I feel the pull of sleep dragging me
away to my bed.Good night to you and to Sasuke, should you see him again
before he seeks his own rest." Her eyes lit up with amusement. "Those
dreadful dubbed American cartoons of his. How can he love them so?"

        "My sister, I see not the rhyme or reason of it, either. Good night
to you, then. Sleep well."

        Kodachi moved up the stairs slowly, her typical bounce seemingly
drained as she walked into the baths. She slid off her clothes and sat on
the nearest stool to wash in the frigid water, scrubbing the lengths of her
hair with rough fingertips. So very tired was she that she didn't notice
the shadow among shadows that watched her from the nearby window, barely a
glint to let her know that he was there. The heft of her breasts made him
desire her, the graceful motion of her arms gave him unimaginable yearning.
He could hear the little gasp as the bucket of freezing water slid over
her, saw her shiver uncontrollably as she rose and slowly slipped into the
warmth of the furo.

        Kodachi slipped her head beneath the warmth of the water. She could
feel the silken tendrils of her hair wrapping loosely around her arms and
tickling against her back, sensual and teasing. She rose slowly and brought
her hands to wipe the water from her eyes. The low light made the droplets
on her lashes glisten, made them magnify the light so that surely the form
standing at the end of the furo was a figment of her imagination.
"Ranma-sama?"

        "My love," came the tender whisper in response. Romalov had waited
for this for so long; he had waited for her, this beautiful soul! And now,
again, for the first time in a century, he had found her. The sparkle of
those gray eyes, the tender depth of her black tresses, even the pallor of
her skin, it was sheer perfection. His eyes almost overflowed with the
blood tears as he took her hand in his and kissed the inside of her wrist
tenderly. "I've waited for you," was all he could think to whisper.

        "Ranma-sama," she repeated quietly, putting his finger to her lips.
The sound of this other man's name on her lips made him want to howl,
scream, bay at the very moon. "Shhh, love, darling."

        She stood from the water and it ran over her in little rivulets,
caresses of wetness seeking crooks and crannies, hair streaming down her
back as he pressed her against him, not caring that the silk of his shirt
was soaked, that the velvet tai-chi were ruined. All he could think was
that this was her, his eternal love, and she was hot and wet against him.
He could smell her need as he lifted her so effortlessly and brought her
into the bedroom full of black roses; even the sheets were embroidered with
them. "My Rose," he murmured adoringly as he lay her back against the
English style four poster.

        There was no embarrassment in her; no, nor maidenly squeamishness,
for even as he moved towards her, she drew him down and began to pull and
tug at the buttons of the wet material. His mouth was on her, ravenous,
starving, so long! So long since there had been a woman who brought this
steaming arousal to life, so long since he had been warm. He helped her to
strip away the shirt, shoes dropped by the bedside leaving only the thin
black cotton pants he had come to favor during his sojourn in China. Her
breasts were delicious as he slid his hands over them, pinching at the pink
kernel of her nipple with delicate fingers, mouth trembling against hers as
he pressed down between her legs, fitting himself closely to her. The blood
was running under her skin, so close, and he wanted more than anything to
drink of her as she came to him, to bring her the exquisite pleasure that
only he would ever be able to bring. He could feel the warmth of her
wetness even through the pants and his fingers searched out the crevice of
her.

        Kodachi jumped, gasped, every nerve ending attuned to this being
who fulfilled something in her soul, it seemed. His mouth caressed over the
hills and dales of her breasts, kissing beneath them with something akin to
joy, the water still hiding beneath the heavy globes and then down her
belly, the delicious size of her waist. She wasn't the type of tiny
half-starved woman that disgusted him so in this century; no, she was
larger, well-built, and he would never have to be afraid of breaking her.
The song of her time was almost upon her and he wished, wished, wished,
that it was, that he could taste the thin sweetness of her blood and cream
mingled in his mouth but there was nothing for it. He kissed her inner
thighs and heard the soft keening of her breath as she arched towards him,
wanting more, wanting the touch of him -there-, against that kernel of
pleasure existing and yearning only for him. His tongue flickered over it
and then his mouth closed, suckling tightly in that motion she'd so loved
in her life before and he felt her cries more than heard them as her thighs
clamped tightly around his ears. With careful motions, he brought his thumb
to her entrance and pushed slowly into the tightness of her, feeling her
tender flesh shudder beneath him at the touch. He could feel the thin
barrier of skin that came between the two of them and he lashed against her
with the tip of his tongue, distracting her. There was no other man! none
but him and the pleasure in that was overwhelming, immense in the
realization. His thumb slid loose from her and he kissed his way up her
belly, ignoring the soft whimpers, the rock of her hips as she begged him
for more.

        Kodachi was wild, on the very verge of forever when he stopped and
she wanted to beat her hands against his shoulders, to make him fulfill
her, bring her over the edge and drive her mad with it. He knelt between
her thighs and she watched his fingers as he slid one hand between her
thighs again to enter her, making her moan with the pleasure-pain of being
stretched around that impaling digit, lips trembling with the flood of
emotions. The other hand moved to the simple ties holding up the cotton
pants and she watched lasciviously as he stripped them away. She wanted
more than anything to reach up, to touch and stroke and make him barbaric
and primitive the way he'd made her but he was over her then and it didn't
matter anymore. She could feel him pressing against her and it hurt, ached,
burned, made her want to sob and beg for him to stop but his fingers were
caressing her again, the place he'd used to bring her to pleasure before
and she couldn't stop him, wouldn't.

        Romalov covered her mouth with his own, catching the cry of pain as
he thrust deep inside of her, moaning into her as he lay still. So hard to
keep still after so long, when all he wanted to do was take her and take
her and take her again until she lay beneath him, quiescent and as filled
with the warm glow as he. Instead, he kissed her mouth, her jaw, under her
chin. He could feel her contracting around him tightly, could feel the
shivers rushing through her with each stroke of his thumb against her clit
as his heartbeat echoed inside of her. The smell of the blood was
overpowering now and he groaned violently as he kissed against her jugular,
ravenous. Just a taste, just a bite! Before he knew it, his teeth were in
her, the sweet taste of her blood bursting in his mouth, and she was crying
out beneath him as he thrust, deep, deeper, and it wasn't pain, no, but the
most immensely erotic feeling that had ever flown through her, golden
bubbling liquid in her veins and she cried a name, not his name, but that
was all right because she belonged to him, forever, now and always, and he
came with her, groaning against her throat as the salty blood tears washed
over her momentarily and the holes closed themselves as if by magic.

        It was moments later when she gave that husky whisper that always
seemed to burn in his mind. "Oh, my love. You've made a woman of me."

        "Yes," he said quietly. "And you're my woman, no mistake about
that. Never forget it!"

        "Yours," she whispered sleepily and then she was gone into a
netherworld of dreaming.

        He caressed her eyelids with his kisses, sighed at the tangle of
wet sheets even as he rose from her and pulled on the damp clothes he'd
left on the floor. With tenderness, he moved her to the fainting couch that
lay in one corner and covered her with a light cotton blanket. He frowned
at the sheets, the blood splattered in a tiny splotch against them proof of
his presence. With care, he stripped them away and left the mattress to
dry, touching her face one last time before walking to the window and
looking out into the night sky. It was late and he must go, feed fully
before he returned to his basement full of the dirt of his homeland and the
quiet darkness of his enclosed bed. Tomorrow would be enough time to return
to her, to love her again -- or to find this "Ranma" and discover exactly
what was going on here.

        That decision made, he narrowed his sapphire eyes and threw his
black braid over his shoulder. Enough. Time to go.

        The only remnants of his presence were the cracked window that left
Kodachi shivering in the starlight and the sheets rumpled in a corner of
her closet. "My love," she whispered in her sleep. "Oh, my love.."

                                 * * * * *

        Kuno looked up from "Titus Andronicus" with a frown. What could
that noise have been just now? With his usual arrogance, he strode to the
French doors opening from the library out into the garden. The moon still
graced the night sky with its presence, though barely, casting a silvery
light across trees and shrubbery, lighting well the paths through Kodachi's
masterpiece. He opened the door and glanced around before his eyes lit on
the trespasser. Before he could call out, the figure jumped to the top of
the surrounding wall and he saw him in the thinly filtered light of the
setting moon. The pigtail was outlined to advantage and the shimmering
moonbeams revealed enough of the build that he knew then who it was.

        Saotome Ranma.

        Fury arced through him and yet he held it in check, an admirable
feat for Kuno Tatewaki. The certainty of the reason for Saotome's presence
filtered into his mind. Tomorrow. He would find Saotome tomorrow and they
would discuss this dishonorable behavior. They would discuss it and he
would wed Kodachi, will he, nil he.

        Lips pressed together firmly, Kuno placed his bookmark carefully
between the pages and placed the book on his desk. Indeed, tomorrow would
be time enough to bring the Sorcerer to task.

        Muscle jumping in his clenched jaw, Kuno turned out the light and
moved upstairs slowly to find his own bed.

                                 * * * * *

        Ranma blew his bangs out of his eyes, the kata slow and exquisitely
perfect with each motion that he made. He'd been doing this for hours,
since the fight at the dojo had gotten him thrown out of the house yet
again. Luckily, it wasn't mid-winter this time -- only the middle of
October and so it was more beautiful than anything else. The mornings were
crisp with the scents that he associated with traveling. Smells of fall
flowers and burning leaves and the "taste" of pumpkin, cinnamon and nutmeg
from the bakery around the corner.

        "Saotome Ranma."

        "Kuno. Whatta you want?"

        "Though the very notion of coming to you in this manner rends my
heart and makes my very blood chill within these noble veins, I find that I
must do so, for..."

        Ranma stopped his kata to tilt his head to the side and interrupt
Kuno. "So why're you wantin' to talk t' *me*?" he asked, settling down
beside the tiny fire over which his breakfast currently bubbled.

        "It's about my sister. Kodachi," Kuno answered in a patronizing
voice.

        "Yeah, so?"

        Kuno frowned angrily. "So I -saw- you leaving her room last night,
Saotome! How -DARE- you take advantage of the most noble gift of her heart
and undoubtedly her body in such a manner? Indeed, you shall marry her this
very day!"

        "Whoa, whoa! What're you accusin' me of, man? You really think I'd
do that with.. Don't answer that question, I'm sure ya do. But I ain't been
nowhere except here since last night around two. What'd I be doin' over at
your place with Kodachi?"

        Kuno growled angrily, his dark hair standing almost on end. "I
believe you not! Indeed, you lie with the veriest finesse, I doubt not that
you take advantage of the other young women you have seduced in the
self-same manner!" His bokken came as if from nowhere, his lips pressed
together firmly. "Prepare thyself, Sorcerer, for I..."

        "RANMA!" Akane shouted as she stormed into the vacant lot, coming
between Kuno and the object of his anger, her hands on her hips as she
glared up into the surprised eyes of her fiance. "How DARE you behave the
way you behaved last night? If you had JUST apologized, you wouldn't have
been thrown out at TWO in the MORNING!"

        "Tomboy! It ain't' MY fault Ryouga came in an' busted up the house!
It ain't like I did nothin' to provoke him, he just came outta nowhere but
do you blame -him-? Nooo, it's RANMA'S fault, send Ranma out t'sleep in the
cold an' the rain an' the snow, let the pig sleep in the house..."

        The mallet came down firmly, making him twitch. "RANMA, YOU IDIOT,
STOP MAKING FUN OF RYOUGA!!!!!!"

        Kuno looked at his love with a serious expression. "Then he was
truly in your home until two this morning?" he asked quietly.

        Akane tilted her head to the side as she turned to look at Kuno.
"Of course, Sempai. Where else would he have been?"

        Kuno closed his eyes, the wind ruffling his hair as he crossed his
arms across his chest and whispered ever so softly, "Something wicked this
way comes..."

        Ranma and Akane watched him with a certain amount of confusion. "I
told ya it wasn't me," Ranma growled.

        "What wasn't you?" Akane's suspicious nature made her fingers itch
to be at the mallet again.

        "Aw, Kuno here thought I was sneakin' into Kodachi's room last
night before two but yanno Ryouga was at the house an' we were fightin'
come midnight. I ain't been in Kodachi's room an' ya couldn't pay me enough
t'make me go!" he insisted.

        "Sempai?" Akane asked softly. "Why would you think it was Ranma?"

        "I saw the miscreant!" he replied, anger again creeping into his
voice. "The moon shone bright upon him. I tell you, it was exactly like the
sorcerer!" Leveling his bokken at Ranma once again, his icy gray eyes
narrowed. "The truth, Saotome. Thou art some sort of incubus, art thou
not?"

        "I ain't no SEX DEMON!" Ranma shouted.

        "You PERVERT!" Akane shrieked angrily.

        With those words, the usual melee commenced.

                                 * * * * *

        Romalov shuddered in his sleep, one hand clutching the shirt that
still bore the scent of the cleanness of Kodachi tightly to his chest. He
missed her already and it had been but hours! Hours were less than nothing
in comparison to the centuries he had seemed to be waiting for her, waiting
for her to return to him, to belong to him again, to be his love.

        In his dreams, it came again, sometimes, as if he was reading a
tale that had been carefully plotted and outlined by some other person: his
birth in the tiny town in some unnamed mountain region, his and his twin's,
both identical in every way. From the earliest times, they had been best
friends and more, and when -she- came, it only seemed to draw them closer,
for they both loved her with the fullness of their hearts.

        The local lord rode through their village and saw her one windy
afternoon. Her beauty was such that she was irresistible, those glowing
gray eyes, the pearl like skin, the beautiful loose black hair. Much
against her will and that of her parents, he took her, struggling all the
way. Romalov and Christaven followed. It was winter and the trip through
the mountain passes took much longer than it should have so that their
arrival was far too late. When they found her, she was near death, her face
swollen from the tears and the beating, her body broken. It had been but
days since last they saw her and yet, and yet!, he had lost her, for death
took her even as he stood beside her, watching the blood congeal on the
dress that was pressed between her thighs.

        The pain was overwhelming, it filled him as surely as had his love
for her. Christaven eventually wed a woman from the east, beautiful in her
foreignness and a far cry from Terazin. He cherished her and treated her
well but Romalov knew in the depths of his soul that Christaven's heart
would always belong to a beautiful mountain girl with gray eyes.

        Romalov hadn't been able to root her from his heart, either. He had
searched, far and wide, before finding what seemed to be the answer to his
prayers in the form of a scrabbling, mindless nightcrawler, sure death, he
knew, and he waited, he wanted..

        He woke knowing.

        That was the worst thing about it, he supposed. He woke knowing
everything he had known before the "death", crystal clear. The wavering
light of dawn had hurt his eyes but it had not killed him, nor did he truly
wish it to do so.

        Over the next two centuries, he had tried to find many a way of
dying and had failed in them all. It was seemingly impossible for him to
die. The only things that he did not try were death by fire and death by
impalement. Perhaps he did not want to die so much as he had once thought;
perhaps the time brought wisdom.

        It was in the fifteenth century that he discovered her once again
in the form of a beautiful Gypsy lass of barely sixteen with glowing gray
eyes and skin of satin. She danced for him, legs flashing beneath layered
cotton skirts as she moved round and round the campfire in the most
wonderful display of sensuality he'd ever seen. He hadn't felt such passion
since Terazin's death and it rose for her, filling his heart with the
ecstasy of her once again. He took her and, despite her full knowledge of
his nature, she was his wife for a year, denying the gift of immortality
from him the entire time. Her death at the hands of a raiding Cosack as
they traveled through the steppes drove him near mad, the only person
capable of soothing him her ancient grandmother. The old woman told him
stories of things long unbelieved, things never written in any book or
scroll... and he believed her.

        In the wake of his love's second death, he made three companions;
all were women who felt immense bitterness and dissatisfaction when they
learned of his love for a woman long dead.

        In the eighteenth century, he found her once again -- the fiancee
of a man of business from London sent to the castle he had acquired
somewhere along the way. When he learned of her existence, he left his
three companions to occupy the perverted nature of the businessman (a
fellow who went by the name of Harker) during his absence. The entire
affair was disastrous from the start, her Victorian upbringing affecting
the unrestrained passion of her nature and staining it, turning it into a
thing that he did not recognize. She did not vilify him, no -- it was
herself that she felt to be a twisted unknowable thing, a thing not worth
his love, and so she remained with that ridiculous businessman after
Romalov released both Harker and the three "wives". Harker had spilled the
tale to a drunken Irishman in a wharf side pub one night and Romalov found
copies of a ridiculous little tale simply known as "DRACULA" scattered
about some six months later. Ridiculous, really. The Irishman had more
imagination than was good for him, undoubtedly.

        Romalov opened his eyes slowly in the bleak darkness of the small
underground room. It was sheer luck that he'd discovered her, his Terazin,
his Kodachi, here on this island. He'd oft wondered how many times she had
come again, how many times he had missed her, and that thought kept him
always moving, searching, seeking her.

        Still, he had obligations and one of those obligations was to the
continuing family line of his brother. Christaven had taken his wife's name
in an attempt to forget his past, to become someone and something other
than himself so the pain would lessen. Romalov had kept up with them for
centuries -- they had been scattered far and wide at one time but now they
were down to no more than a handful, few of whom would now recall the tales
of "cousin" Romalov. It should be safe to come to them again, pretending a
family history of Romalovs who did not exist. He reached out a hand and
turned on the lamp that rested at his bedside. Rising, he made his way to
the scarred mahogany desk in the corner of his dark abode and opened one of
the drawers there to withdraw a battered box holding careful drawings of
family lines, a few old letters, miniature portraits and, from the most
recent times, an album full of photographs. These he flipped past entirely
until he came to the back of the album. There, he paused to look at the
picture on the last page carefully. It had been long enough, surely. He
would find them tonight and go to them tomorrow or the next day. He would
claim them as his own and perhaps that would gain him leverage when he went
to Kodachi again.

        Saotome Genma had been far too young to remember him. Everything
would work out perfectly.

                                 * * * * *

        "Ranma!" his father bellowed. "What are you thinking of, boy!"

        Ranma growled, glaring up at the larger man poised on the roof and
holding the long bo they'd been training with all week. "I'm thinkin' I'm
gonna KILL you, old man!" he shouted, making the jump from the yard and up
to the A-frame of the roof. The sparring commenced in the wavering light of
early morning, thrust, parry, withdraw, reverse, both matching their
efforts flawlessly.

        "Ranma! Mr. Saotome!" Kasumi cried from the kitchen window.
"Breakfast is almost ready!" As an afterthought she added, "Oh! And you
have a guest!"

        "Thank you, Kasumi dear! We'll be down in a moment!" With those
words, he flung Ranma from the roof and into the pond with a laugh.

        Ranma gasped in shock as the water of the koi pond closed over his
(now her) head. So cold! She could feel her nipples swell in response and
the feelings wasn't unpleasant, exactly, so much as unwelcome. Grumbling,
she dragged herself from the water. There went Pop, happy as ya please into
the house. "Geez, why's he always gotta do -that- for?" Ranma mumbled to
herself disgustedly. With an irate expression, she stomped towards the
house, dripping icy water in puddles behind her.

        As Ranma stopped into the house, she looked up -- and came to a
full stop. She blinked several times, looking at the figure seated next to
Akane at the breakfast table and then frowned. Ranma looked down and
considered her blue satin shirt, black pants and black tai-chi. She looked
up again. {Black pig-tail, blue eyes, black shirt like mine, black pants
gathered at the cuffs like mine, black tai-chi like...} "HEY!" she shouted
angrily.

        The entire family turned to her. "Ah! Ranma," his father said with
a smirk. "Go get changed, boy!"

        Ranma growled a little. She didn't like the look of this newcomer
one bit. As a matter of fact, various suspicions began to form in her mind.
Someone who looked like her male form had been seen coming from Kodachi's
room the other night. What if this guy had taken it upon himself to play
Ranma and seduce her? [1] "Who're you?" Ranma muttered angrily.

        The doppelganger stood. He was a good five inches taller than
Ranma's male form and the slightest bit more muscular, as well. "I'm your
cousin Romalov. It's nice to meet you, Ranma." His sapphire gaze slid
almost insolently down Ranma's body and back up one again. "I'm sure you'll
say the same."

        As much as Ranma wanted to say something sharp and suspicious, she
found herself practically simpering at him instead. "Pleasure t'meet you,"
she said quietly. "I think I'll go take a hot bath now." As she left, she
could hear her father and Soun blathering on about her "fiancees" and all
of the trouble they'd been put through for him.

        Ranma shrugged off her clothing angrily once she reached the
bathroom, mumbling under her breath. "Oughta told that jerk off, lookin' at
me like I'm some kinda meat! Who does he think he is, anyway?" The chill of
the water she used to scrub (that crazy tingling again -- what WAS that!?)
made her glad for the heat of the furo as he sank into its depths.

        {Man. That guy looks so much like me it's scary!} Ranma frowned.
{Wonder how he found us? He. Not like everybody else in the world ain't.}

        Bare moments later, the sliding door to the furo opened and Genma
slipped in, hips wrapped in a towel. "So, my boy -- what do you think of
your cousin Romalov?"

        Ranma snorted and brushed his ponytail over his shoulder. "I think
he's a _prick_. That's what I think."

        Genma laughed for a moment and the lenses in his glasses gleamed as
he leaned over Ranma and the furo. "Listen to me, boy. This is your cousin
Romalov from a long line of Romalovs! Very *rich* Romalovs. You'll be nice
to him if you understand what's good for you. Follow me?"

        His father's sharp words filled Ranma with disgust. "Yeah, old man.
I understand, all right." With those words, he stood and left the bath, too
angry and revolted to stay any longer.

                                 * * * * *

        By the time Ranma had dressed and made it to the breakfast table,
the food was long gone. He stopped to grumble for a moment and decided to
go visit Ucchan. She *always* had food and she wouldn't mind scroungin' up
some kind of breakfast for him....

        "Who are *you*?"

        The surprise in that voice made Ranma smile. "Ranma Saotome, what'd
you think?"

        Romalov looked down at Ranma, less than three inches and yet it was
a world of difference. "I thought..."

        "Ranma was a girl?" Ranma shrugged. "Long story."

        "Apparently. And.. we look so much alike.. I..."

        Seeing the older boy confused seemed to restore a bit of Ranma's
confidence. "I'm goin' t'get some okonomiyaki. Wanna tag along?"

        Romalov shrugged. "Might as well. It would seem that most of the
household has disappeared within the space of a very few moments."
Privately, Romalov was relieved that Ranma was actually a boy; he wasn't
sure about the girl, but it was a relief to know that his Kodachi, his
bright angel, was not in love with that red-headed girl.

        The two strolled slowly along. "So, why d'ya think we.. yanno..
look like this?"

        Romalov shrugged delicately. "There are many tales, but the ones
with which I am familiar tell of brothers, identical in every way.
Sometimes, through the centuries in which our family has existed, there
have been others identical in that way; throwbacks, one might say, to those
brothers, though it is not necessary for the look-alikes to be close kin.
Perhaps it's only that and naught more. My family has pictures, paintings,
and you can tell with some of them."

        Ranma frowned a little. It sounded like a terribly convenient
explanation to him. It was at that moment that a shower of black rose
petals filtered through the air. Without thinking, he flung himself at
Romalov, knocking him out of the way. {Aw, man. What a time to meet
Kodachi!}

        Romalov looked stunned as he saw her, a look of... almost...
adoration crossing his face. That look surprised Ranma beyond all other
things and he grimaced slightly. "Kodachi, now ain't the time! I'm tryin'
to show my cousin around!"

        Romalov stood slowly, oblivious to Ranma's attempts to chide
Kodachi. "Well, well. What have we here?" Romalov asked charmingly, smiling
at her even as she looked at him with those wide gray eyes full of
surprise.

        "Romalov, this's Kodachi. Kodachi, meet Romalov," Ranma muttered
reluctantly. "He's some kinda cousin or somethin'." Under ordinary
circumstances, Ranma would bound with joy if Kodachi seemed to be so much
as remotely interested in another man; there was something different about
this, however. Romalov seemed to be an older, more mature version of Ranma,
one with exquisite mannerisms and proper speech. He was the sort of man who
ought to bowl women over with a single glance, as Ranma often did. Ranma
watched Kodachi carefully for reaction, wondering exactly what she would
think.

        Kodachi offered her hand and Romalov lifted it, kissing the inside
of her wrist tenderly, sensuously. {Where'd he learn *that* trick's what I
wanna know,} Ranma thought grumpily. His eyes widened with shock as Kodachi
flushed lightly and gave a soft, "Oh, my."

        Romalov gave Kodachi his most charming smile. "Would it be too
forward, madam, to ask if I might see you again? I've not yet left and
already the loss of your presence is as the loss of the very sun."

        Kodachi's eyes slid down the taller man's frame, admiration clear
on her face. Ranma felt a sour curling in the pit of his stomach... was
that jealousy? And over -Kodachi-!?

        "Your words strike well within this poor young woman's heart." She
almost seemed to purr and Ranma could tell by the way her shouldersthrust
back and her hips thrust slightly forward that she was interested.

        It was definitely jealousy.

        "A woman as beautiful as you deserves the words of a poet," Romalov
murmured. He gave her a smile equal to any of Ranma's. "We're going for
lunch, madam -- okonomiyaki. Would you care to join us?"

        Kodachi shrugged and Ranma noticed the motion of her breasts
beneath the material of her dress. Of all his fiancees, Kodachi was the
most sensual -- being near her invariably made him as hard as stone.
Perhaps that explained his "fear" of her. "Thank you for the invitation; I
fear I must decline, however, for I have a previous engagement which I must
attend."

        There was true regret in Romalov's voice. "Another time, perhaps?"

        She nodded. "Perhaps." With that said, she continued on her way.

        Ranma and Romalov watched as she walked away, both appreciating the
view.

        "THAT'S one of your fiancees?"

        "Yep. More or less."

        "And you don't--"

        "Nope."

        "Not even--"

        "Not even."

        "You, my friend, are a sick man."

        "Yeah, yeah. C'mon, already. I'm starvin'." With that surly
response, the two look-alikes headed for Ucchan's. The faint remnants of
their conversation fell behind like scattered leaves.

        "Not even the Amazon?"

        "ESPECIALLY not the Amazon!!"

        Romalov's laughter danced on the wind, and all was quiet after.

                                 * * * * *

        Romalov smiled and slipped along the shadows. Meeting Kodachi today
was a surprise, but such a delight, as well! He had known that she would be
perfect, just the right combination of innocent seduction, beauty and
sauciness, no girl to be taken lightly, but a woman in her own right. Ah,
it was wonderful to be so smitten once again!

        He slipped in through the window of Kodachi's bedroom. In his
fingers, he lightly grasped one of her roses, so deep a red as to seem
black, light droplets of water clinging to the tender petals as if it had
been freshly picked from the autumn garden outside and not stolen from her
precious greenhouse. He smiled at the outline of her body in the bed and
slipped closer, tugging back the sheets to reveal... Huh?

        "Surprised, dear man?" Kodachi purred throatily. "I thought you
might be." Her hand twirled the razor sharp ribbon idly as she inspected
him, her gaze cynical. "You stole something from me last night, something
very precious meant only for Ranma-sama. You should be ashamed of yourself,
sneaking into my bedroom in such a manner!"

        An expression of... was that guilt? ... crossed Romalov's face.
"Indeed, madam, and I must admit 'twas mighty -strange- making love to a
woman who cried another man's name." No, not guilt; more like jealousy.

        Kodachi raised a dark eyebrow and glared at him. "Really,
Romalov-darling. When you didn't properly introduce yourself, I'm afraid
that I made several rather appropriate conclusions, all things considered.
You look exactly like him," she finished in a whisper, fascinated by his
expression.

        "No," Romalov answered sulkily. "HE looks like ME. Kodachi," he
breathed softly, "Kodachi, do you not know how I love to love you? Can you
begin to imagine how it feels to suffer knowing that you love another and
not me?"

        "You've barely known me hours!"

        "I've *known* you an ETERNITY!"

        Both broke off and listened for someone to come and investigate the
noise as soon as they realized they were shouting. After a short time,
Romalov leaned forward and took her hand in his. "Will you listen to me?
Will you allow me to relate to you my tale?"

        Kodachi was still suspicious; indeed, she felt advantage had been
taken of her and yet... and yet... "Oh, all -right- but this had best be
-good-, Romalov."

        It took nearly an hour to tell her the whole of it and when he was
done, she looked at him as if he were mad. "You've lost your mind if you
think I'll believe such a bald-faced lie as that, Romalov!" Kodachi
murmured bluntly.

        "You want proof?" he asked huskily. "What can I say to you to prove
myself? What can I do? The apparitions, the hypnosis? You want to see me
make things from thin air or disappear before your very eyes? Kodachi,that'
s not what I want! That's not what I'm asking! I don't want' to be a
-vampire- before your eyes! Only me," he whispered brokenly. "Only me, and
if I could be human again for you, I would be. Don't you know? Can't you
see? The blood tears welled and spilled over his cheeks as he took his hand
from hers in an attempt to hide his face from her, the sheer hideousness of
the whole action.

        His motions tugged at the strings of her heart and she wrapped her
arms about him in an attempt to soothe, to bring comfort to him. "Romalov,
Romalov, shush, shush, 'tis no use weeping so..." With her fingers, she
brushed his chin up so that she could see him and stopped there. Bright
sparkling red droplets lay on the back of her white hand and her heart
filled with trepidation. "Oh. Oh. Oh."

        "I told you," he whispered brokenly, turning to her suddenly,
taking her hands into his own. "I told you. Oh, Kodachi, I wish... I wish
I... But no, now could anyone love a creature such as I?"

        Perhaps it was with those very words that Kodachi's heart warmed to
him, melted to reveal a love that was, without doubt, centuries old;
perhaps it was the sheer hopelessness in his voice, an emotion that had
filled her heart many times o'er the years; perhaps, finally, it was
kindred soul meeting kindred soul and bursting into flames with the heat of
the emotion. "Romalov, Romalov! I can, I can, I will! I do!"

        Her impassioned burst of words made him look at her and she seemed
to glow in that moment, a glow that encompassed her entire heart and his as
well. "You will love me, even if it takes months, years for us to be
together, always, forever?"

        Her response sent shivers down his spine. "Even if it takes
CENTURIES."

        With those words, he lifted the gymnast's tender wrist to his lips
and drank.

                                 * * * * *

        Kuno bit his lip worriedly. It had been nigh on three weeks since
he had seen the relief of Ranma's shape in the moonlight and he had not
seen it since though the sounds of passion had echoed from Kodachi's room
each night past. That, in and of itself, worried him; but upon arrival in
her room, there was nought to be seen but curtains billowing in the wind
and he would close them and lock the window quietly before shutting the
door behind him on his way out once again, being sure to leave the tiny
light in the corner of the room on as he had always done. He worried that
the night air was what was making her ill but he was unsure. It had been
two full weeks and the beginning of this, the third, and again today she
was not well enough to return to school. Instead, she was pale and tired
and seemed but a shadow of her former self, the laughing and beautiful
Black Rose of the Kuno household.

        Kuno sighed heavily. The joy of her days seemed to be the visit of
the suspicious creature, Romalov. Ha. He looked quite like that Sorcerer,
Saotome, and the vague suspicion that Romalov (and not Ranma) was the man
who had been loving his sister SHOULD have filled his mind and yet it did
not for Kuno's thoughts were so centered upon Ranma that the notion of
others holding such potential "evil" did not truly cross his thoughts.

        As for Ranma, he had recovered from his bout of jealousy after
seeing Kodachi's happiness during the afternoons he had visited her with
Romalov. Romalov's very presence seemed to brighten her face, bring color
to her pallid cheeks. All were worried for her seeming illness and yet
there seemed to be nothing to be done for her. Even the other fiancees
worried over her decline despite their former controversies. The time spent
visiting with Romalov and Kodachi in the late afternoons had made him think
(for once). All things told, Romalov wasn't so bad, for a cousin. He was
even sort of glad Romalov had come, because he seemed to make Kodachi happy
and it was nice to see her that way. They were going on some kind of date
tonight and Ranma wished them well. It was kinda nice to know he wasn't
alone in the world, too, that there were other family members out there
someplace.

        Still, the weeks had passed and dancing in the air was something
strangely familiar, something that no one seemed to be able to put their
fingers on. The winds of change blew through the small town of Nerima, but
no one paid heed.

                                 * * * * *

        Kodachi stood still as Romalov pulled the zipper up the back of the
black velvet chiengsom[2]. The thought of his piano player's fingers
tickling up her spine made her close her eyes so that the image, the feel
of it, could linger in her mind.

        "So beautiful," he whispered softly, kissing the bare nape of her
neck. "How warm and full of life you are!"

        A light flush crossed Kodachi's features as she turned to touch his
cheek. The silky black hair was loose tonight and it felt good to slide a
hand into the wealth of strands and lean up to press her lips gently to his
own. "And you, beloved, are so handsome I doubt not that every woman in
Tokyo shall feel most bereaved and anguished that I am the one on your arm
and not she."

        Romalov leaned close and brushed a tender kiss across a bare ear.
"Your dress is lovely," he murmured quietly, "and yet it lacks something."
He held his hand open before her to show that it was bare and waved it
before her eyes, once, twice, before opening it again. In the palm lay a
pair of exquisitely tiny earrings, the diamonds sparkling in their silver
setting. With a smile as if to ask permission, he leaned forward and
carefully placed each one upon her before stepping back and waving his hand
once again. This time, a bracelet appeared to match the earrings and he
slipped it onto her wrist with a smile, kissing the inside before letting
it go. "A beautiful woman deserves beautiful things." [2]

        Kodachi looked at him uncertainly for a moment before flinging
herself into his arms with a loud cry, something between pleasure and
sorrow that filled his soul as he stroked his fingers down her back gently,
soothing her. "Darling, love... Don't cry, I thought you would like
them..." he whispered.

        Her voice and the expression on her face were fierce as she lifted
her visage to him. "They're lovely! Thank you."

        "Come away with me," he whispered in her ear, holding her tightly.
"Come away, to the mountains in the north, I own a temple there, old,
abandoned. We can stay without being disturbed. Come away!"

        "But..." she paused momentarily, the look on her face wistful as
she turned to look at herself in the rounded mirror of her dresser. "What
about Tatewaki? What about your family?"

        "Ah, love, they can be your family, too. Come away with me." The
urge to use all of his power to seduce her into agreement was difficult to
resist but this must be her decision and her decision alone.

        She whirled to look at him once again, placed a delicate hand
against his chest and looked into the depths of those sapphire eyes. "You
want me, then?" she whispered softly. "You desire my presence in your
life?"

        "For an eternity," Romalov whispered fervently. "I..." He broke off
by gently kissing her mouth, cupping the back of her head with his hand as
he did so. "I want you to marry me, Kodachi. Marry me, be mine, always
mine! Come be my bride," he whispered, shivering.

        Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her cry was muffled
against his chest as she gave him her answer, the answer of a woman well
and truly in love.

        They snuck away from the Kuno mansion that very night, she carrying
a small valise containing no more than a simple green dress, a leotard and
clean underthings, he carrying no more than her. They would be together and
no material thing in the world could be more important than that.

                                 * * * * *

        "She's gone! Master! The Mistress is gone! She's not in her bed, I
can't find her anywhere! She hasn't returned from her date!" Sasuke's voice
was frantic as it worked its way through the sludge of Tatewaki's morning
mind.

        "Huh? Whatdja say?"

        "KODACHI IS GONE, MASTER!" Sasuke shrieked. The little man was in a
coil of turmoil, trembling and afraid for the girl. They didn't know this
young man, this Romalov! He could be anyone and he looked exactly like
Saotome Ranma, certainly no good indication in Sasuke's opinion.

        "Kodachi?" Kuno asked, dumbfounded. "Sh..she didn't come home?" A
thousand conflicting ideas ran through his mind. "Sasuke! My clothing! I
must go, I must..."

        "She left nothing to follow, Master!"

        "I must go to Saotome. Saotome will have some idea, surely! Indeed,
'tis likely that rascal who is the very culprit!" That decision made, Kuno
dressed frantically. So little time in which to find her and so much to be
done!

                                 * * * * *

        "So, Pop, what is it that yer sayin'?"

        "Weren't you -listening-, boy? Are you stupid? Look! Look at all of
the pictures, the drawings, look at this old scroll drawn by your
grandfather Christaven, many times removed, of course. Don't you see what
this is? Don't you see what this Romalov IS?" Genma asked angrily. He was
frightened, truly frightened for the first time in his life. Oh, certainly
he had thought himself to be frightened before but he now knew that nothing
he'd felt before had even come close. "Don't you see what he IS? And we
invited him into our -home-, boy! Our -home-!" he hissed between clenched
teeth.

        "Oi, Pop, what is this, some kinda bad vampire joke? Halloween's a
gaijin thing and it ain't 'til next week," Ranma scoffed.

        "READ IT!!"

        Ranma jumped, waving his arms. His father had obviously developed
the same "demon-head" technique as Akane's dad. "Geez, I'm readin', I'm
readin' already!"

        Ranma certainly wasn't known for his scholarly aptitude; however,
"Grandfather" Christaven had been deadly accurate and highly descriptive as
he wrote down the old tales from his mountain home a quarter world away.
The suspicions he had concerning his brother's unnatural behavior came to
light quickly, almost as if Ranma could see the words bouncing from the
page into his notice. "Pop..." he whispered quietly as he rifled through
the drawings, "these all look like *ME*!"

        "You and Romalov, boy. Romalov, your Grandfather Christaven's
brother! Romalov, who comes through the centuries!"

        "SAOTOME!!!!!!"

        The cry caught the attention of everyone in the house as Kuno came
barreling in. "Saotome!" he cried once more. "She's gone! Kodachi's gone!
What have you done with her!?"

        Kasumi dropped the kettle to the floor, her hand going to her mouth
as her eyes became round "o"'s of surprise. "Oh, MY!"

                                 * * * * *

        The discussion had lasted an hour or more and Ranma's frustration
grew with every passing moment.

        "We MUST search them out!" Kuno cried insistently. "If what your
father dares to suggest is true, Saotome, then e'en as we sit at this
table, my sister's very life is in jeopardy!"

        Ranma scowled at Genma; his father didn't even have the guts it
took to look guilty for blurting out the notion of Romalov's vampirism
before the passionate and easily led Tatewaki. Ranma wondered if his
father's usual greedy nature had anything to do with his sudden
confession.[4] "Now, maybe it ain't as bad as you think, Kuno. Maybe she
came home an' just went out early again."

        "Nay!" Kuno refuted angrily. "She did not sleep in her bed nor did
she leave the lamp in the room on as she has always done. Her dress lay
crumpled on the floor, upon investigation, and her small valise has been
taken from the closet. What else could it be but that she is gone, stolen
away by the evil magic of your family? I always KNEW that you were a
sorcerer!"

        Ranma groaned silently. What a wreck his father had made of this.
Ranma knew Genma well and while he did not doubt that Genma felt fear for
the "unnatural" Romalov, Ranma also knew that Genma lusted after what
appeared to be Romalov's wealth. Disgust pooled in the pit of his stomach
and he closed his eyes to the chaos that had erupted in the Tendo
household.

        "Ranma, you have to -do- something!" Akane cried.

        The look of apprehension on her face caused him to come to a
decision. {Might as well. If Kuno goes alone, somebody'll get hurt for sure
and I ain't gonna want that on my conscience.}

        "Oh, all RIGHT. We'll go. Pop, you an' Mr. Tendo are comin', too.
If I hafta suffer, *SO* do you!" That announcement made, he left the men
weeping hysterically at the table and went upstairs to pack warm clothes.

                                 * * * * *

        "Hurry...hurry!!" Kuno cried.

        They'd taken a bus to the mountains and had been hiking ever since.
The trail through the rocky crags and precipices was old and slippery with
the snow that was falling, even now. Kuno's drive to find Kodachi was
overwhelming, not leaving time for rest or food and the two older men
weren't in the best of shape as a result.

        "Ranma!" his father called from behind. "Tendo can't go much
farther like this! Neither can I!"

        Ranma wiped the snow from his vision, still *his* vision only from
luck. "Fuck," he growled aloud to himself. He could barely see Kuno ahead
of him, running pell-mell through the muck and the mush. This was
impossible! He couldn't keep up with Kuno -and- watch out for the old men
behind him, yet he knew that he might need their help with the time came.
Still... to be there when necessary or held back by the two of them...

        "Stop!" Ranma shouted at Kuno and was surprised when he paused for
a moment. "We gotta find someplace for Pop and Mr. Tendo! They can't go no
further!"

        "Then leave them, Saotome! They shall fare well in comparison to
Kodachi's potential fate, for what if I find that I am too late and she has
become e'en as the other? I must go! I must!" With that pronouncement, he
moved forward and Ranma's vision was cut off by the swirling snow.

        Ranma began to invent curse words as he struggled on, rounding a
corner. Finally! "Here!" he shouted back at the older men. "Get in here!
Stay here until the weather gets better... looks like there some kinda wood
in there an' it's outta the wind! I gotta go on, I gotta -DO- something!"
The wind almost whipped his words away even as his father and Akane's came
close enough to hear them.

        "Son!" Genma called. "We trust you!" With that, the two snivelers
ducked into the crevice, leaving Ranma alone in the cold wet snow.

        Ranma couldn't believe winter had come on so fast out here. It was
still fall in Nerima, almost winter, but not quite. Ranma clenched his jaw
as fat droplets began to seek ways inside of the warmth of his coat. At
this rate, he'd be a girl in no time. He ran faster, listening and watching
for something to lead the way, and then he saw it on the horizon, a pile of
stone and mortar that seemed to be crumbling uselessly on the mountain top.
That was one hell of a climb and he could see the bright blaze of Kuno's
jacket above him, the dark swath of his hair against the snow for one
shining moment before the wind whipped a sheet of white before his vision.
Well, time to get moving, or Kuno would get there before he did.

        The climb was long and hard and it slowed Ranma down and forced the
change of form when the wetly plopping drops slid inside his shirt. Still,
she struggled on, face squinched in determination. From the look on Kuno's
face, she was Kodachi's last hope. She HAD to hurry! Ranma shivered in the
wind, rushing through the snow that was beginning to drift in the path.
{Almost there,} she thought. {Almost there!}

        The scene that greeted her as she broke through the snow and into
the courtyard of the old stone temple filled her heart with dread. Kodachi
stood in the snow, cheeks flushed brightly as she glared defiantly at Kuno.

        "You must leave with me!" he cried. "Leave with me now or forfeit
your soul, woman!"

        "What is my soul if it loses for me my love?" she called back.
Ranma could see the feverish gleam, the growing pallor in her as she shook
in the chill wind. He knew the second she closed her eyes that she was
going to faint.

        Even as Kodachi began to crumple onto the windswept stones, Kuno
began to run forward, his bokken held before him. Ranma knew then what he
was going to do and the scene seemed to slow in her eyes. She began to run
but she knew that she wasn't going to make it before Kuno thrust the wooden
sword into Kodachi's still form; there wasn't going to be time! Still, she
ran, her entire heart pouring speed into her legs -- please, God, let me be
in time!

        It truly surprised her to see Romalov there before she could reach
Kodachi. Ranma knew that Romalov possessed a speed she could never match
due to his nature but she had not thought the vampire would sacrifice
himself to save Kodachi's life. Indeed, they had all expected the
doppelganger would leave Kodachi alone in this old stone temple to die a
dark, dank crimson death in the swirling snow that had overtaken the
mountains.

        "NOOOOO!!!!!!!" The scream came from the depths of Ranma's chest,
as if it was part of herself that had come between Kodachi and the wooden
blade of her brother. It ripped through Romalov's flesh easily, as if he
were nothing more than a wisp of smoke, and the tip came to rest gently
against Kodachi's breast, the force of the thrust canceled by the thickness
of Romalov's body. Ranma slammed into Kuno at that exact moment, driving
him to the frozen courtyard.

        "Kodachi..." The whisper was barely a gurgle as Ranma and Kuno
looked towards the vampire and the woman he'd claimed as his own.

        "R..Roma.. Romalov? My love?" The rising hysteria in her voice as
she woke to horror skittered with icy fingers down Ranma's spine.

        "Remember." His voice was hoarse now, almost gurgling. "Remember."

        With those words, he died, becoming limp in her arms even as she
moved to cradle him, her wailing cry of grief the sound of a woman who has
lost all hope, all light, all life. "Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't
leave me!" she cried again and again and again, demanding hopelessly for a
thing that could not now be undone. "DON'T LEAVE ME!!!" The body was
dissolving in her arms even as she sobbed so recklessly, turning blue now
in the thin green gown she'd been wearing when she disappeared with
Romalov.

        Kuno shoved Ranma away from him, moving to try and take the corpse
from his sister with tender hands. "Kodachi, you must give him to me."

        "No!" she refused. "No! You killed him, YOU killed him, you have
done this thing to me, Tatewaki! You and you alone!"

        She stood and laughed maniacally, a cacophony of grief and the
darkest of humors. The sound of it was mad and Kuno and Ranma alike
flinched away from her as she turned, gathered the thin skirts and ran
headlong for the stairs that led up to the wall surrounding the castle.

        Ranma was after her like a shot but the stairs were narrow and
slippery with age and the ice that coated them so that she was afraid if
she tried to stop Kodachi, they would both go tumbling and Kodachi would be
hurt. She reached the top, turned and flung a bucket down at Ranma.
"KODACHI!! DON'T!!!" Ranma's high pitched soprano rang out, wanting to calm
her, make her safe.

        Kuno wasn't far behind Ranma and as they both stood on the walkway
they saw that they had Kodachi cornered, that she had nowhere to go. Kuno
spoke then, slow words, words that seemed to rip themselves from deep
within his heart. "Kodachi... sister dear. It was for your soul's
salvation, I swear it! It was a thing that _must_ be done and not a thing
in which I delighted!"

        "The salvation of my soul! Your belief in salvation has destroyed
my soul, left nothing to which I might cling but hanging ribbons of dread
where once was happiness! You have cursed me, Tatewaki! You have cursed me
to never ending loneliness, dark and clinging to me as dew clings to the
spider's web!"

        Ranma paled as he saw Kodachi stand on the edge of the ice-covered
wall, winds buffeting at her hair wildly and driving it across her almost
bare shoulders and her face so that it clung to those delicate coral lips.
"Kodachi! Don't!" she pleaded again. The ice was too slippery, even for her
-- there was no way to deliver Kodachi from that wall without both of them
falling. Still, she had to try!

        The tears seemed to be frozen streams as they slipped down those
round, pale cheeks, her hands in fists as she screamed at them, halting
Ranma's forward momentum. "I DEFY YOU!! I DEFY you BOTH and in defying
you," her voice became soft, so soft Ranma had to strain to hear it over
the whistle of the wind, "do I die."

        Those words had barely fallen from her cold lips when she flung
herself backwards, slipping slightly on the ice so that she fell too close
to the parapet and hit her head on the way down. Ranma heard the sickening
crunch, saw Kuno fall to his knees and begin to sob, reckless unrestrained
sounds of sorrow. She saw all of this as if she were someone else and not
herself, the first signs of going into shock.

        "Kuno," Ranma whispered. "Kuno. You've gotta come away now. It's
time t'go away. Go inside, wait for the others, get warm."

        "No! No, can you not see? I cannot leave her here in the cold, in
the dark! I cannot leave her alone! Kodachi is afraid of the dark," Kuno
moaned. "She fears it beyond all things and yet she faces it with brave
expression. Her entire world is dark now! Cold! I cannot leave her."

                                 * * * * *

        "Kuno never got well. Seems like we spent an eternity in that old
temple trying to coax him out again but all he could think about was how
cold Kodachi must be, how upset because it was dark and she was alone. He
kept saying that he'd never left her alone in the dark, even when they
fought tooth and nail not an hour before. He's probably there still; last I
heard, there was some sorta religious colony started up there, touting
something about 'the eternal light of God's grace' or some such thing. If
he's still there, I hope he's happy.

        We buried Kodachi and what was left of Romalov not far from that
old temple. Amazingly enough, there was a hot spring nearby and the warmth
of the water made the surrounding area green year round, full of these
little white flowers I've always known as "Terazin's Tear Drops". Funny how
things like that come back to haunt you.

        Me? Well, that's another story. I kinda figured that if something
like that could happen to Kodachi, it could happen to one of the others,
too. It wasn't easy to break it to them, one by one, and there were some...
problems... getting Shampoo to understand; but everything was finally under
control. MY life.

        Now, we come to the close of the story. I close it this way, with
my own happiness, because I find a need for it. Perhaps telling this tale,
setting things straight, is what has finally given me that happiness. I
know only that I had to let someone know, to tell them what happened that
dark October, before it could be let go.

        Through the gods (or God, I suppose, depending on how you feel
about such things), all things may come to pass. I like to think that
somewhere out there, Kodachi and Romalov are together and happy as neither
seemed to be in life. Perhaps she will realize someone so loved her that
much was dared for her sake.

        Happiness is an objective thing. I've found mine and, with any
hope, the others have found theirs. With those words, I close these
writings. Perhaps you, too, will soon find happiness of your own.

                                                            Saotome Ranma."

                                 * * * * *

[1]     Indeed, that's quick reasoning for Ranma, but it would be the first
conclusion to which *I* would jump.

[2]     For those of you who don't know, this refers to Chinese style
dresses.. this particular one is long black velvet slit cleanly up the left
thigh with silver highlights...

[3]     Ok, boys, I'm not going to lie to you here. -=*ALL*=- women want
diamonds. If a woman tells you she doesn't, she's lying because she doesn't
want to hurt your feelings or send you into a blithering panic. The fact of
the matter is that some women might want diamonds while others want rubies
or sapphires or emeralds or pearls but *ALL* women want precious stones
(and even semi-precious). They're nice when they come to proposals and
anniversaries, but you can give 'em all year round, too, you know. Not to
mention the sheer romance of the way he offered 'em. *sigh* ;)

[4]     You never know with Genma. He might think that he'll come into some
sort of money should Romalov die.. and since Romalov *isn't* a human.. and
they're accustomed to killing off demons, succubi and other such
creatures... It's a logical conclusion of sorts.

        Well, I imagine that you're all searching for answers concerning
what sort of vampire Romalov actually -is-. Answer? My sort, of course! ^_^
In _Dracula_, vampires come out during the day with lessened powers. The
same is true for many other canonical vampire tales (I don't have time to
look up all of them, but check "Camilla", a short story written by Henry
James, author of "The Turn of the Screw". Mark Mackinnon says it might have
been written by F. Sheridan LeFanu and it's entirely possible that he's
right. It's been years since I read it so don't come smack me if I'm
mistaken.) As for death, what can truly kill a vampire? Well, we've got a
list of things that we usually go through. Sunlight? Nope, not this go
'round. Fire? Maybe, maybe -not-. Anything that can turn into mist can
probably get away from fire if necessary. Cutting off the head? Depends.
Stake? Depends on what you're reading -- after all, Anne Rice's vampires
just aren't stakable... unless you're planning on setting them afire while
you've got them down. ^_- The best way to kill a vampire (or at least
render the creature reasonably harmless) IMO? My suggestion would be to
stake them to keep them down (or maybe to kill them; like I said, depends),
cut off the head, stuff the mouth with garlic, put the body and the head in
separate steel boxes loaded with rocks and filled with dogwood blooms
(well, that's an old superstition; I'm -pretty- sure dogwood is one of the
flowers that vampires cannot abide. Maybe it's the modern equivalent of
something older, I forget, it's been years since I did vampire lore...
supposedly, the dogwood is the tree upon which Christ was crucified and, as
such, is something of a "holy" wood. Don't take that for fact, it's just a
theory advanced in English 301, Senior Seminar, Gothic Literature. The
professor was the most WONDERFUL prof I've ever had -- everyone should have
an Oost in their lives!) and then sink the boxes in running water,
preferably separate rivers or some such. Even that probably isn't
fool-proof. If somebody actually managed to put them back together
properly, we might just have one pissed off vampire on our hands, ne?

        Vampires represent a great many things in literature, among them
masculinity, virility, sexual pleasure, passion, heat, perhaps even the
darkest side of our human natures -- the side that yearns for power and
-takes it where it can-. Romalov is a mixture of a great many of this
things, I suppose -- pleasure, passion, heat, virility, masculinity -- and
yet I don't think that Romalov is a person who delights in the powers his
nature affords. Indeed, Romalov is something of a romantic and he would
rather have his love taken freely than find that a lover had to be seduced
by something of his dark nature (at least, after he first meets Kodachi and
discovers the possibility of her as his soul mate). So why does he have sex
with her so SOON?, you're asking. (Well, maybe not, but I thought I'd tell
you, anyway.) Quite frankly, if it had been better than a century since *I*
had seen the person I loved, I'd be a little excitable about such things
and *I'd* probably jump the gun, so to speak. *^_^*

        Another thing that's probably being asked is, "Why the visible
change in Ranma? Why the diary style writing only at the very end?" Kodachi
and Romalov are both dead. They can't very well speak for themselves and
perhaps Ranma is piecing the story together little by little; I find that
writing about myself is easier in third person than in first. I always feel
sort of stupid writing in first person. Maybe Ranma does, too. As for the
change in Ranma, I think that, as a Ranma fan, I have a certain belief in
Ranma's integrity, his honorable nature. Watching Kodachi die *WILLINGLY*,
attempting to bring Kuno back to himself for so long, seeing such truly
horrible things.. That tends to change a person and -certainly- I feel that
Ranma would be changed by these things to an almost unreal extent. Ranma
characters escape injury *SO* often. Think about it -- how many times do
you see Ranma characters -bleed-? Outside of Ryouga's nose bleeds, of
course. I can count two out of all the ones that I've seen (fewer than I'd
like, the first ten or so, 3 or 4 in the second series, all of the Hard
Battles, both movies and all of the OAVs... Yeesh!): Kuno bleeds when Akane
and Tsubasa smash him in "I Love You! My Dear, Dear Ukyou" and Shinnosuke
in "An Akane to Remember" -- and Ranma causes that, frighteningly enough.
Actually seeing someone DIE would change a lot about Ranma, it would eat at
him, wondering if he could have stopped Kodachi, anything. When something
like that gnaws at you, festers and weeps blood in your soul, you tend to
become highly introspective.. Perhaps even Ranma has this quality!

        To close this ridiculously long, dry author's note, I'd like to
thank Jason, above all, as always. He spoils me rotten, tells me everything
that I write is good (even when it isn't!) and he's always there to make me
laugh or let me cry on him until his shirt's wet. I'd like to thank Mark
MacKinnon, too, because he lets me gloat after I pre-read for him
(Bwahahaha! I know what's coming next and you don't!) and he catches all of
the little subtle things that get slipped into some of my stories. ^_^
While I'm thanking Jason and Mark, tho, I think I'll go for the whole
Church of the Black Rose Mailing List -- you guys are *great* and I love
every last one of you! ^_^ For God's sake, Paul, don't make a challenge for
Christmas! I can see it now.. Instead of vampires or the Great Pumpkin,
we'll have Kris Kringle and the Great Turkey. Amusing, but how on -EARTH-
do you make Santa Clause -DARK-? Don't answer that. I'm sure between you
and Jonathan, you'll let me know, and then I'll NEVER get to sleep
Christmas Eve... ^^;

rls -- kodachi@surfsouth.com

10/31/97


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