Ranma ran. Scurrying thru bushes as fast as his feet could carry him,
he could hear the hunters behind him, sniffing him out. It would not
be long. Salvation before him, in the form of a tunnel, they would'nt
be able to get him there! Run faster, dive down, NO! it's blocked,
dig, dig.. please, please.... stone. no way out. Stand up, his body
shifting to match his will, dagger in hand, he would sell his life
dearly then, take as many as he could.. they are almost upun him,
the betrayers, the killers, all teeth, claws and rage. He'd show them
rage! A fast dart between the legs of the first, slash the groin and
come up behind it, dagger driving into it's spine, turn, rage boiling
in his blood to leap into the second one before it can adjust. Razor
incisors sinking into its throat. Pain!, from the side a third one,
its claws red with his blood, slash with the dagger, No! arm caught,
bone breaking, its claws sinking into his throat..

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With a scream, he shot up in bed, regretting it immediately. Waves of
pain crashing in his head as he collapsed back down. Where was he?
The sharp smell of antiseptic and the pinch of an IV in his arm gave
answer. A hospital.... Why? A fight? Memories of an argument, an
argument with Akane... Then Ryoga, angry... nothing new there... a
fight, yes, a fight.. a momentary mistiming and a blow getting thru...
into the garbage cans... something coming out, something disturbed by
his landing... a c.. ccca.. one of THEM.. landing on his chest... to
much, last straw.. now this...

'so hot.. im on fire.. so dry..' A hand to his forehead confirmed the
fever, the aches and pains associated with illness, not injury 'sick?
I never get sick!' pride aside, it matched up, the bruises from his
fight long since faded, he hurt.. pain in his head, soreness in his
throat.. 'gotta get up... gotta drink something, anything... so hot'
With a grunt of effort, he levered himself into sitting position again..
Fighting waves of nausea he stood and made his way to the door, drawn
up short by the pain in his arm as the IV made itself known again.
With a snarl he jerked it out and continued. Into the bathroom, water..
yes water would be nice.. drink.. voices, mutterings.. "Who's there?"
turning a little to quickly for comfort he found that he was still
alone.. turning the water off he yelped at the unexpected pain from
his hand 'whaa?' a bandage there.. pull it off.. His hand was swollen,
with a small wound, festering lightly in spite of the antibiotics..
'where did that come from?'

'The infection, thats prolly what made me sick... yeah thats it,
pops'll have a field day with this, a little wound like that laying
me up...' Visions of his fathers jibes and the extra training that
would come from this dancing thru his head, Ranma made his way back to
the bed.. -no, not here, go- Turning quickly, he scanned the room,
looking for the voice "Whadaya mean not here? Who's there?" The
rooms only other occupant, an old man on a respirator, had no answers
for him. -go, find the others, out of here and they will find you-
"What others? What the hell am I doing? Im having a conversation with
myself... thats it, the damn tomboy's hit me one to many time with that
mallet, and I've lost it... Look you... me... whatever.. I aint goin
nowhere but back to bed. You got a problem with that?" Suiting actions
to words, he made it about halfway before hunger cramps nearly drove
him to his knees.

"Well, maybe I'll see what I can scrounge up for eats first.." 'If im
at Nerima General, Ucchans is no more than 20 minutes from here, yeah..
she wont mind if I go over there...' With that thought, he had the window
open and was out and on his way... compleatly overlooking the fact that
all he wore was a hospital gown.

It was a testament to his training and conditioning that he made it at all.
As it was, it was almost 2 hours before he arrived at the Ucchan, and the
pre-dawn glow was making itself known.

"I was wondering when you would get here." the voice from the shadows caught him off guard as he whipped around in a combat crouch to face it.

"Who's there? Show yourself!"

A piece of the shadow broke away revealing a young woman dressed in dark clothing, she looked to be maybe a little older than Kasumi, raven hair
bound in a simple tail down her back. Moving slightly quieter than a
ghost she aproched him.

"I see Mother has chosen well, you will make a fine warrior"

"Mother?"

"In time you will know her"

"What are you talking about? Who is 'Mother'?"

"She is the one who speaks to you, who tends you during your plague,
filling your blood with memories of what once was, and can be, she is
mother to us all, we the Nezumi are her children"

"Look lady, I dont have time for this, as interesting as your story is,
Im hungry, sick, and my head is killing me. So, not to be rude, but
could you leave me be?"

"As you wish, young warrior, when you need my answers, ask your bretheren, they will find me, ask for Sakura Walks in Shadows, and I will come." With that she slipped back into the shadows and was gone.

'Sheesh... What a nut.' Turning to knock at the door, the last of his
strength failed him as he collapsed on the steps.

Ukyo was not a happy camper. Between prices on supplies, slow business
and Hinako-sensei's piles of homework, stress was mounting to an extreme.
Now added to that, Ranchan was in the hospital with an unknown disease.
'Leave it to Ranchan.. Couldnt get a cold or the flu or something
normal.. Has to catch a bug nobody's ever heard of.' Her morning
preparations were interrupted by something large impacting her door.
'what is it now!?' "Tsubasa you jackass! If thats you Im gonna pound you
into next week!" Storming over to the door she yanked it open only to
have a hospital gown clad Ranma tumble in and lay unmoving.

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Ranma finished gnawing the ropes and sat back to admire his handiwork.  While it would not affect the ship under normal conditions, the partially chewed ropes would give way under heavy strain, say that caused by any number of the squalls common this time of year. The ropes giving way under those circumstances would cause an untold amount of havoc on the decks, possibly even sinking the ship, this was good. The dutch traders were unwelcome, gaijin who brought their rifles and black powder, disrupting the peace and harmony of his homeland in ways that would not _could not_ be tolerated. Chittering an order to his companions, he led the way down the anchor rope and into the bay, swimming as fast as his four feet could carry him to the shoreline, their departure was noticed by a crewman on deck, who muttered something about rats and sinking ships before returning his attention to his rum.

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He was awake again, or he thought he was at least, his last clear
recollection being the strange woman in front of Ucchan's. Where was
he now? His mind was filled with disjointed memories, dreams blending
with reality, all overlaing with a chittering that he could almost
understand. 'sleep' it said, 'sleep for there is more to see' not
having the energy to to do otherwise, he complied.

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He found himself standing on a hilltop, looking at the skyline of Tokyo
in the distance, the city seemed different some how, wrong in ways he
could not begin to identify. The chittering, now a voice he could follow,
one he felt he could trust though he knew not why, surrounded him once
more. 'What you feel, the discomfort, is that wound in the Emerald
Mother's flesh, the entrapment of the Wyld in the Weavers webs' looking
closer, the scene before him altered, distorted slightly. He could see
the hill he stood upon, and the surrounding countryside take on a slightly
untamed though healthy and vibrant aspect, whereas the closer to the city
he looked, the less healthy it seemed, the voice was right, it was like a
wound, not a mortal blow, more of a festering tear in the harmony around
him. The very essence of the land itself seemed bound and constrained,
begging to be set free, pleading for release from the seemingly endless
strands that bound it tight. Worse, it was not the city alone, for the
countryside around it was slowly being drawn in, captured, restraind,
ordered and regulated.

'Look now upon the works of man, who in allaince with the Weaver is
bringing this age to a close.'

"What do you mean? Whats going on? Who are you?"

'You have many questions warrior, I am here to answer them.' A haze
formed in front of him, slowly resolving into the form of a giant rat,
about ten feet tall at the shoulder, oddly enough this didnt bother him.
Then it spoke again, in the same chittering sing-song language that he
could somehow understand. "To answer your last question first, I am Rat,
your mother and guardian. As for what is going on, you have been chosen
from amongst your homid kin to join my ranks as a warrior for the Emerald
Mother, known as Gaia to the Sunset People. As for what I meant earlier,
that will become clear in time"

Absorbing this tidbit brought the next question "Why me? I mean, I'm the
best martial artist around, but what can I do?"

"Why you? Why not? You are as you claim, an excelent fighter, and fighters
are what I need. True, you alone cannot affect much, then again, who can
tell.." the last was said with an expression that was _way_ to reminiscent
of Nabiki for his liking.

"Wait a minute, theres more goin on here aint there, you want more than a
fighter dont you? You have something in mind, I can feel it!"

"That I may young warrior, that I may. If I do, I am sure you will figure
it out in time. For now, let us say that you have talents that can be of
great use to me, in return for which I am granting you strength, speed and
abilities beyond what you could achieve on your own. Provided of course
you survive your re-birth." That said, the apparition faded as if it had
never truly been there at all.

Ranma stood there, replaying the conversation in his head when something that was said finally penetrated. "Hey!! Whadaya mean _IF_ I survive?!?!"

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