Heart of the Immortal
---------------------
By: Anand Rao

Chapter 3: A Damaged Past
-------------------------

Ranma silently ate the soba noodles Aya had prepared for him and a feeling 
of déjà vu hit him suddenly.  A little less than a year had passed since he 
had last talked to his fiancée and they had discussed his training journey.  
She had asked, then, if he loved her and had had no answer; not for her, not 
for himself.  He felt the same discomfort in her presence as before, but 
this time, he also felt guilt.

"Aya, I am so sorry about your mother, if I had known she was ill-"

"Would you have returned sooner?"  Once again, there was a slight accusation 
in her voice, but she didn't look at him.  She sat silently, her hands 
folded in her lap with her head bowed.

"Of course I would have returned!"  Ranma exclaimed.  "How could you think 
otherwise?"

"Ranma-san, I have loved you my whole life.  My mother wanted nothing more 
than for us to be married, for our families to be joined."

"I know."

"She died before seeing her dream fulfilled.  It should not have been the 
case.  You should have been here."  She finally looked at him.  "You should 
have been here, Ranma-san."

"I. . . am sorry," Ranma repeated.

"You're sorry, but you don't love me.  You've never loved me."

"Aya. . ."

"I've watched you. . . as you train and fight.  There is passion there, I 
see it in your smile.  A smile I had always hoped you'd share with me."

"Aya, I. . ."

"But you never did."

Ranma bowed his head and closed his eyes.  He was not ready for this 
confrontation, nor had he expected it.  "Aya.  The Art is very important to 
me.  It -is- the most important part of my life, and I can't change that, 
but I will marry you."

"Do you like the noodles?" She asked.

"Uh. . . yes, they're fine."  Ranma was confused by the sudden change of 
subject.

"Good.  I added a special ingredient; just for you."

Ranma's hands became numb and he gently set the bowl of noodles on the 
table.  "What special ingredient?"

"You don't understand.  You don't love me, and you don't understand my pain. 
  You don't understand!" Aya screamed.

Ranma lurched back in shock and held up his hands defensively.  (What's 
wrong with her?  She's never lost control like this!)

"You will understand, Ranma-san.  You will feel my pain."  Aya drew a short 
elegant tanto from the sleeve of her kimono.

"What do you plan to do with that?"  Ranma asked.  (Damn.  She can't even 
fight!)

"What you ate in that bowl were blood worms."

(Worms?)  Ranma gagged.

"They are magical and mystical creatures, and they grant immortality.  You 
will live until you understand what you have done to me.  The pain you have 
inflicted on me, I return a thousand fold.  You will fall in love a thousand 
times before you die, and as you lose each love, maybe you will understand 
the one woman who loved you."   Aya drew the tanto out of it's sheath and 
plunged the blade into her belly.  "I. . . have always. . . loved. . . you."

Ranma jumped across the table and. . . .


			**************************************

Ranma gasped and his eyes flew open.  He sat up in his futon and ran his 
fingers through his sweat-soaked hair.  "Hmmm. . .  haven't had that dream 
in awhile," he mused.  Stretching his arms wide, Ranma glanced outside 
through his bedroom window.  (Still early.  Oh well.)  He stood up, changed 
into his gi and quietly walked to the dojo.  Once there, he began a kata and 
thoughts of Aya drifted from his mind.

A while later, Akane entered the dojo, yawning sleepily.  (I'm not ever 
going to get used to waking up this early.)  She once again stopped and 
stared as Ranma performed his kata.  He glided across the floor and through 
the air, his every movement complex and intricate.  (How long does a person 
have to train to do that?) Akane wondered.  (How long does it take to become 
a master?)

Ranma was certainly a master; and however much he may deny it, Akane knew 
that he was close to her in age.  To accomplish so much at such a young age. 
. . Akane wanted that, she realized.  She wanted it more than anything else.

Ranma stopped his kata and turned towards Akane.  "So. . . how are you 
feeling this morning?"

"A litte sore," she admitted, "but okay."

"Good! Ready to get started?"

"In a minute.  I wanted. . . to talk to you about what happened yesterday."

"Oh?"  Ranma casually folded his arms across his chest.

"I. . . appreciate the help, but I don't want you interfering in my fights 
any more."  Akane took a deep breath.  "I'm a martial artist too!"

"There's a lot to being a martial artist, Akane.  There's a lot to fighting 
a battle with honor."  Ranma paused and his voice became soft and gentle.  
"But there's also a lot to knowing when you need help, and sometimes, 
reaching out for that help is the hardest and bravest thing you could do."

"Do you ever ask for help?" Akane retorted.

"No, but that's because I'm the best!"  Ranma smirked arrogantly.  "Ready to 
start now?"

Akane adopted a defensive position.  "Let's go."


			*******************************************


Ranma's two students provided a rather comical sight at the Tendo dining 
table.  Both had trouble moving, wincing when a particularly sore muscle had 
to be used.  For Soun, even eating was a painful event, as evidenced by a 
small bruise on his jaw line.  Tears streamed down his eyes as he held his 
chopsticks.

"I don't remember you being this cruel, Ranma."

"That's because I never scarred you, Soun.  Bruises are easy to forget."

"A strained muscle isn't," Akane said coldly.

"Hey, it wasn't my fault you over-extended your arm!" Ranma protested.   "I 
know you want to hit me, but honestly, that was just sloppy."

"Do you have any plans today, Oniichan?"

"Not really, Kasumi. Beyond training, there isn't anything I ever have 
planned."

"Rather obsessed, aren't you?"

Ranma turned towards Nabiki.  "It's all I have," he replied simply.

"Well, since you're not busy, will you return a book to Doctor Tofu for me?  
I have so much cleaning to do, I just don't think I'll be able to make it."

"Sure, no problem."  Ranma smiled slyly.  "Are you sure you'd rather not 
return it yourself?  It would give you a chance to thank the nice doctor."

"N-No. . . I really don't have the time. . ."

"Heh.  Alright, Kasumi.  I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Oniichan."

"I'm going to school now."  Akane quickly stood up from the table, grabbed 
her book bag, and left.

"Seems to be in a rush this morning," Nabiki muttered.


			*******************************************************

"Hey, Akane!  Wait up!"

"What do -you- want, Ranma?"  Akane's voice sounded tired.

"No need to be like that, I just need a small favor."

"I'll be late for school."

"Not for this, you left early enough," Ranma pointed out.

Akane had to admit that he was right.  She just wasn't in a mood to hear any 
more about Doctor Tofu.  She had been in love with the young doctor for as 
long as she could remember, and he had always loved Kasumi.  "What kind of 
favor?"

Ranma held up a book.  "Kasumi asked me to return this to Doctor Tofu."

"Yeah, I heard."

"I don't know where his office happens to be.  Can you take me there?"

"I. . . I. . . "

"Please?"  Ranma smiled.

"Sure." Akane sighed.

"Great!  Thanks, Akane-chan."

Akane leveled a glare in Ranma's direction and sighed again.  "Come on, 
let's go."

A few moments later they reached the front door of Doctor Tofu's office and 
Akane made ready to leave for school.  "Aren't you coming inside?"

"No, I really need to. . . Ranma, what's that?"  Akane pointed at Ranma's 
chest.

"What?"  Ranma looked down to see a little red laser point holding steady 
near his heart.  "Oh shit."  He managed to push Akane out of the way as his 
chest exploded in pain.  His body jolted back against the door of the clinic 
and he slumped to the ground.

Akane had fallen on the ground as well due the force at which Ranma pushed 
her.  "Hey!  What's the big idea?"  She heard a small snap and watched Ranma 
fall.  "Ohmygod!  Ranma!"  She started to stand but Ranma's voice stopped 
her.

"Stay down!" he gasped.

Akane quickly crawled towards him and inspected the wound on his chest.  She 
tried to ignore the pool of blood that was forming beneath him.  "You've 
been shot!"

"Thanks, I noticed," came Ranma's dry reply.

Keeping one hand on Ranma's chest, Akane opened the clinic door.  "Doctor 
Tofu!" she screamed.

"Akane. . . I'll be. . . fine in a few minutes, just get inside."

"What do you mean, you'll be fine?" Akane demanded tartly.  "You've been 
shot in the chest!  Just shut up and stop being a macho jerk!"

Akane stood up, grabbed Ranma beneath the arms and dragged him into the 
clinic.  "Doctor Tofu!"

"I'm here, Akane.  What happened?"  Tofu walked into his waiting room and 
knelt beside Ranma.

"He was shot."

"Akane, close the door," Ranma suggested as he tried to sit up.

"What are you doing?"  Akane held his shoulders down.  "Don't move."

Ranma rolled his eyes and decided to humor her.  Doctor Tofu opened Ranma's 
shirt and cleaned away the blood on his chest.  He blinked, took a closer 
look, and cleaned away more blood.

"Doctor?"

"I. . . can't seem to find a wound."

"What?!"  Still holding Ranma's shoulders, Akane leaned over his head and 
stared at his bare chest.  Not only was there no wound, there wasn't even a 
scar.

"Not that I mind staring at your breasts, Akane, but can you let me up now?"

Akane blushed a deep crimson and jerked back away from Ranma as if she had 
been burnt. Ranma quickly stood and closed the clinic door, then backed away 
from it.

Akane chose, for this one instance, to ignore a boy's perversion.  "You. . . 
you were shot!" she spluttered.  "I saw it!"

"I believe you, Akane.  Besides, I'd like an explanation for the all the 
blood, too," Doctor Tofu replied.

One of Ranma's eyebrows rose.  "You're pretty sharp without Kasumi around, 
aren't you?"

"K-K-Kasumi?  Er. . . well. . ."

"What happened? Why aren't you on the ground dying?"

Ranma glanced at Akane.  "No need to sound so disappointed."

Akane took a deep breath.  "What. . . happened."

"Aren't you going to be late for school?"

"I don't care."

Ranma ran his fingers through his hair.  "Look, I'd like to find out who 
shot me, so I'll give you the short version; I'm immortal.  Every wound I've 
ever received vanishes without a trace, not even a scar remains."

"I-I-Immortal?  But that's impossible!"

Ranma opened the clinic door and stepped outside.  "Then you think of a 
better explanation as to why I'm walking around right now instead being 'on 
the ground dying'. We'll talk about this later, Akane.  I promise."  Ranma 
ran out of the clinic, closing the door behind him.


		**********************************************

Akane walked into the Tendo house and limply sat at the dining room table.  
Kasumi exited and the kitchen and was surprised to see her.  "Akane!  What 
are you doing home?  Is something wrong?"  Then, she noticed the blood 
stains on Akane's uniform.  "Oh my!  What happened?"

"Kasumi?  How long have you known Ranma?"

Kasumi knelt down next to Akane.  "Are you hurt?  Should I call Doctor 
Tofu?"

"I'm fine," Akane said absently.  "All this blood is Ranma's."

"Oniichan!" Kasumi gasped.  She grabbed hold of Akane's shoulders.  "What 
happened to him?"

"He. . . he got shot.  Then he just got up and. . . and. . ." Akane's arms 
floundered around helplessly.

"I see.  Why didn't he come back with you?"

"He wanted to find out who shot him."

Kasumi just nodded her head.  "You should change and get to school.  You'll 
be late, but. . ."

"Kasumi!  Did you hear me?  He was -shot- and the wound healed!"  Akane was 
near hysterical.

"Yes, I heard.  Didn't he explain it?"  Kasumi remained calm.

"He said he was immortal and he just left!  But that's impossible. . . isn't 
it?"

"Oh, Oniichan. . ." Kasumi muttered.  "He was telling you the truth, Akane.  
I first met Ranma many years ago, when you were about three years old.  He 
looked the same then as he does now."

"How. . . how old is he?"

"Around 200, I believe."

"200 years," Akane whispered.  "No wonder he's a Master.  He. . . He's not a 
boy at all, is he?"

"Get changed and go to school, Akane.  You can talk to Ranma when you come 
home tonight.  He'll tell you anything you want to know."  Akane stood up 
and walked to the stairway.  "And Akane?  I hope you'll understand why I 
trust him. . . and love him.  You have no reason to fear him.  He'll never 
hurt you."


				*******************************

Unknowingly mirroring Akane's actions several hours earlier, Ranma walked 
into the Tendo home and sat down at the dining table.  Soun and Kasumi were 
drinking and tea, and Kasumi immediately poured a cup for Ranma.

"Akane told me what happened," Kasumi said, eyeing Ranma's blood stained 
shirt.

"Yeah?  She okay?"

"She's strong, Oniichan.  But I suspect she'll have some questions for you 
later tonight."

Ranma lightly tapped her nose.  "You Tendos. . . always so full of 
curiosity."

Kasumi giggled in response and shook her head.

"Ranma, did you find the person who shot you?" Soun asked.

"No," Ranma sighed. "Whoever it was, is a professional.  They left no trace 
of their presence and I checked all over town.  I couldn't even find a 
bullet casing.  I suppose I could have a doctor dig the actual bullet outta 
me, but I don't think it will give me any answers."

"Who would want you dead, Oniichan?"

"The list of possibilities is quite long, Hime-chan.  But honestly, I have 
no clue who shot me."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I think. . . I'd better leave here for a while.  You're all in danger as 
long as I stay," Ranma replied slowly.

"Oniichan, no!  You just got here!"  Kasumi protested.

"I know, but it can't be helped."  Ranma caressed her cheek gently.  "Death 
will never come for me, but it can come for you, and I don't want to be 
responsible for it."

"Death -will- come for me, Ranma.  It will come for father, Akane, and 
Nabiki; just as it came for mother.  We will never know when that time will 
come, but until then, I want to spend time with my family, loving them and 
enjoying their company.  Please don't leave us again."

Soun nodded his head, tears beginning to form in his eyes.  "Well said, 
Kasumi, well said."

"You're right, Kasumi.  But I'd rather see you, all of you, old and gray 
with children and grandchildren of your own before death claims you.  I do 
what I can to protect my family, Hime-chan, you know that."

"Yes, but-"

"It's not like I'll never come back," Ranma pointed out.  "Just until this 
situation is taken care of."

"I. . . I see."  Kasumi bowed her head.

"Hime-chan?"

"Will you wait until Akane and Nabiki get home from school?  You should at 
least say goodbye to them."

Ranma smiled warmly.  "Of course, Kasumi."


			*****************************************

Umashi Ojimi was a rotund little man who spent most of his days and nights 
in his little office building in Tokyo.  He also controlled the most 
influential and successful underground information network in all of Asia.  
His clientele included politicians, yakuza, police, military, businessmen, 
and just about anyone else who needed, and could afford to pay for, 
information.  If it was worth knowing, Umashi knew it. . . or, at the very 
least, he could find it.  From his little office he had access to the 
fastest computers, the smartest people, and, of course, the most affluent 
clientele.

Umashi also kept tabs on all his clients.  After all, if they were desperate 
enough to pay his rates to gather information, then more than likely, others 
would pay for information about them.  When he discovered that one of his 
favorite clients had been killed, he sighed with a heavy heart.  He would 
miss Ranma Saotome.  At least, he would miss his money.

Needless to say, he was more than surprised when Ranma walked into his 
office.  Ignoring the fact that Ranma had gotten past his receptionist and 
security guards, Umashi gaped in astonishment and a touch of anger.  This 
was the first time he had ever received false information.

"You. . . you're supposed to be dead!"

"Almost, but not quite."  Ranma shrugged his shoulders.  "Who put out the 
hit on me, Umashi?"

Umashi smiled and put his confusion and anger aside.  Within an hour of 
Ranma's supposed death, he had received all the details regarding the 
assassination.  It looked like the information would be profitable after 
all.  "Standard fees plus. . . fifteen percent?"

"Fine," Ranma agreed.

"This goes back to your little adventure in Hong Kong a few months ago," 
Umashi began.

"What 'little adventure'?"

"The warehouse you torched and leveled?"

"Oh, you mean during my fight with the American. . . Terry Bogard."

"Yes, that was the one.  By the way, how -did- you boys manage to destroy 
and entire warehouse during a street fight?"  Umashi wondered aloud.

"Ki can do amazing things," Ranma replied nonchalantly.

"Yes, well. . .  the warehouse belonged the Chinese mafia; the 108 dragons, 
to be specific.  They stored a rather large amount of guns and assorted 
weaponry there.  You made them lose a bit of face, Ranma."

"So they think that Bogard and I destroyed the place on purpose?"

"Something like that."

Ranma scratched the back of his head.  "That's my fault.  I should have 
found the owner and offered to pay for damages, but I got too caught up in 
the fight and just forgot.  Say, have they found Terry yet?"

"Bogard lives like a monk and has gone underground.  -I- don't even know 
where he is. . ."

"Right."  Ranma sighed.  "Guess I'd better catch a plane to Hong Kong and 
clear this mess."

"You may not have to," Umashi said slyly.

"Oh?"

"The new leader of the 108 Dragons happens to be in Japan at the moment.  
His name is Crying Freeman."

"Got an address?" Ranma asked.

Umashi scrawled an address on a slip of paper.  "Another thirty percent?"

"Sure."

He handed the slip of paper to Ranma.  "Good luck, kid, and be careful.  I'd 
hate to see them get the job right this time."


			*************************************

Om Thai Young, otherwise known as Crying Freeman, the head of the 108 
dragons, stared dispassionately at the boy seated before him.  The boy had 
come to his hotel suite, a location that should have been secret, and 
surrendered himself to Freeman's guards.  He carried no weapon, no poison, 
or recording device of any kind; just two briefcases filled with yen and a 
request for an audience with the leader of the 108.

Intriguingly enough, the boy showed no fear.  His eyes spoke of wisdom, 
skill, and experience.  Regardless of his age, this was no boy; this was a 
dangerous man.  Freeman was interested in what he had to say.  The two were 
seated alone in one of the rooms of Freeman's suite.

"So, what is your name?"

"Ranma Saotome."

"Why did you wish to meet with me?  Are you offering me a contract of some 
sort?"  Freeman glanced at the briefcases.

"You're not quite informed on all the goings on in your organization, are 
you?  This money is actually a payment for destruction of some of your 
property."

Freeman showed no emotion.  "What property is that?"

"A warehouse in Hong Kong."

"Ah, yes, the terrorist acts a few months ago.  Are you claiming 
responsibility?"

"It wasn't terrorism," Ranma replied.  "It was an accident.  I was in a 
street fight and sort of got carried away."

"A street fight?  The warehouse was completely destroyed."

Ranma leaned forward.  "Look, you're not just a business man or a gangster, 
you're also a warrior.  I can tell.  In the heat of a battle, things 
happen."  Ranma shrugged his shoulders.  "The warehouse was abandoned, I 
didn't even see any guards around it.  It was perfect."

Freeman smiled.  "In our arrogance, we felt that no one would be stupid 
enough to attack a facility on our own soil."

"Look, I just want things to be straight between us, okay?"  Ranma pointed 
to the two briefcases.  "There's 500 million yen there.  I think it should 
be enough to cover the damage, if not, let me know."

"Wait one moment."  Freeman stood up, walked to a telephone in the far end 
of the room, punched in a few numbers and spoke quietly into the handset.  
After a few minutes he came back and sat down across from Ranma.  
"Apparently one of my men killed you today."

"As you can see, he didn't do a very good job of it."  Ranma smiled.

"So it would seem.  I will accept your money and let you go, on one 
condition."

"What's that?"

Freeman stood up once more.  "As you say, I am a warrior."  He took off his 
sports jacket and then his shirt.  Ranma stared at the dragon tattoo that 
covered Freeman's body.  "I want to challenge the warrior who has the 
strength to destroy a warehouse with his fists and feet."

"And you'll leave Terry Bogard alone?  He's the guy I fought at the 
warehouse."

"Who won?"

"I did."

"Sure, I'll remove the hit on him as well."

Ranma grinned cockily.  "Let's do it."  He flipped out of his chair and 
ended up standing behind it.  "Did you want to fight here?"

"Just as well.  You won't be destroying the hotel, will you?" Freeman asked 
dryly.

"I'll keep the damage to a minimum."

Freeman stepped forward and leaped into the air. Ranma stepped back released 
a forward snap-kick with his right leg as Freeman landed in front of him.  
The gangster leaned back and Ranma's kicked missed him by a few centimeters. 
  He caught Ranma's foot as it descended but was unable to dodge or block as 
his opponent's left foot connected with the side of his face.

Freeman fell to the ground but immediately jumped back up, kicking Ranma in 
the stomach as he did so.  Ranma doubled over, rolled forward on the ground, 
leaped straight up in front of Freeman and nailed him with an uppercut 
beneath the chin. As Freeman fell back, Ranma crouched down and connected 
with a spin kick to his legs.  Freeman landed solidly on his back and the 
air was forced out of his lungs.  Before he could recover, Ranma's fist 
sailed towards his face and stopped inches in front if his nose.

"Are we finished?"

Freeman gasped in a lungful of air.  "Yes, I think my curiosity is 
satisfied."  He slowly stood up.  "Although, I still wonder how you managed 
to destroy the warehouse."

"The next time we fight, I'll show you," Ranma promised.

"I look forward to it."  Freeman reached into his pants pocket and pulled 
out a golden business card case.  He opened it, pulled out a business card 
and handed it to Ranma.  "If you are ever back in Hong Kong, give me a 
call."

"I will.  You'd better train up by then, cause I'll give you one hell of a 
fight."  Ranma bowed, then left.


			*************************************

Ranma walked into the Tendo Dojo to and found Akane sitting against the 
north wall, hugging her knees.  "Hey, Akane.  Kasumi said I could find you 
in here."

"You came to say good bye?"  Akane asked softly.

"That was my original intent, yes."

"Kasumi told me why you decided to leave.  I think it's stupid!"

"Akane. . ."

"Listen, Ranma.  You said that asking for help was the bravest thing a 
person could do, but you won't ask for it!  I know you can't die, but that 
doesn't mean you have to face this alone.  You. . . you're my sensei," Akane 
swallowed.  "And that means I stick by you.  Martial artists don't abandon 
their teachers."

Ranma chuckled.  "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"You. . . you're not really a boy are you?  I mean, you're really, really 
old, right?"

"I wish you wouldn't put it that way," Ranma winced.

"But you are, aren't you?" Akane persisted.  It seemed to be an important 
point for her.

"Yeah. . ."

"And you're a master, and. . . as frustrating and annoying as you are, I 
want to learn from you.  I want to learn what you know."  She stood up and 
turned towards him.  "I'll help you find the person who shot you!  I can 
pull my own weight, I'll prove it to you."

"I actually took care of all that stuff this afternoon," Ranma replied.  "It 
was a misunderstanding of sorts, he won't be trying to kill me again."

"A misunderstanding?" Akane gaped.  "Someone shot you!"

"It was kinda my fault," Ranma explained uncomfortably.  "Anyway, like I 
said, it's all over with now."

"Does that mean you'll stay?"

"I'm not sure. . . something like this could happen again, and I may not be 
able to solve future problems as easily as this one!  Akane, during the 
course of a normal life, a person makes enemies.  During the course of an 
abnormally -long- life, a person makes -lots- of enemies."

Akane folded her arms over her chest.  "All I know is, we had a bet, and I 
agreed to be your student.  Do you have any idea how hard that was for me?" 
she demanded.

"I know it very well, Akane.  I'm certainly no stranger to the concept of 
pride."

"And you know about honor, too.  I expect you to keep our bet.  I expect you 
to teach me."

Ranma shook his head ruefully.  "Tendo women, tenacious to the end."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind," Ranma sighed.  "Just thinking about an ancestor of yours I 
used to know."

"I. . . want you to stay, Sensei."

"Oh. . . fine.  I'll stay."  Ranma turned towards the dojo door.  "Tomorrow 
at five, Akane.  See you then."  He walked away from the dojo, leaving a 
smugly smiling Akane behind.


*******************************

End: Chapter 3

Notes:  Yes, I added Crying Freeman.  Yes, I added just a dash of Fatal 
Fury.  Yes, things were relatively easy for Ranma this chapter.  That will 
change.  But for the immediate future, more set up, more flashbacks, more 
training, and maybe a little romance along the way.

Oh, and Happosai, Taro, and Amazons!  Oh my!

Thanks to Michelle Thatcher, Liath Moonshadow, Hpackrat, and John Peasley 
for ideas, suggestions, and hours of online conversation that kept me sane 
and my muse flowing.

Namaste,

Anand


Anand Rao
jouve25@hotmail.com
http://www.gsm.uci.edu/~arao02/
ICQ# 10869014