Early to bed, early to rise

makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.

—Benjamin Franklin

Chapter 6

Part I

Early to Bed

Hiruzen Sarutobi, third Hokage of Konoha, was old. Too old. The weight of his responsibilities bore down on him heavier each day. Today it was particularly prevalent. Eyes lidded, mouth working his pipe, he examined the three men before him.

Hiashi Hyuuga. Jounin and head of the Hyuuga clan. Master of the Byakugan.

Inoichi Yamanaka. Jounin and head of the Yamanaka clan. Master telepath.

Kakashi Hatake. Jounin and head of Team Seven. Master of the Sharingan.

Each had something he rather fervently hoped he wouldn't need, but he hadn't lived as long as he had by waiting for disaster to strike.

"Hokage, if I may ask, what business could require you to call the three of us together?" Ah, Hiashi. Always to the point.

Sarutobi chewed his pipe for a moment longer, then answered. "I've called you here because I have reason to believe that certain forces within Konoha have committed treason." That took them aback. "I have evidence of illegal summonings taking place in a small, unoccupied residence."

"So. You want us to investigate this summoning."

Sarutobi turned to Kakashi. "Not quite. We've already identified the culprits responsible. The problem lies therein. The perpetrators have no recollection of performing any summons at the site. As near as we can tell, their memories have very selectively been erased."

Inoichi spoke up."A higher up covering his tracks?"

"Not unless Danzo Shimura's ambition has lessened greatly since I've known him."

That got their attention. Danzo, head of Root, guilty of a treasonable act?

Inoichi stirred uncomfortably. "If it isn't that, what could it be?"

His voice grave, Sarutobi answered. "I believe that Danzo and his associates have summoned … a kami."

.

.

.

~o0{O}0o~

.

.

.

It's funny how things change.

"Aaaaaaaaaaah!"

One moment your feet are firmly planted on the ground, the next—well, your whole world has been turned upside down.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Or maybe you thought you knew someone, and one thing changed your entire perspective about them. Like a teacher who—for a moment—appeared almost human, just to crush your perception into tiny pieces—

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

—along with your rib cage.

But perhaps we're getting ahead of ourselves.

"You have the nine-tails sealed in your belly!"

Sakura was distraught. Combined with Miss Saotome's cryptic aside about foxes, she had taken some time to research Naruto. More specifically, She'd researched the Uzumaki clan. What she found had floored her.

It had been shocking enough to find that the clan had a bloodline, that being superb healing and massive chakra reserves, but it had explained too much about the idiot to doubt. It was the other fact about the Uzumaki clan that she couldn't wrap her mind around.

Uzumaki were well known for their superior use as Jinchuriki, hosts to the massive tailed beasts. More importantly, they were one of very few who could contain the nine-tailed fox, and had held that responsibility for several centuries. With the nine-tails attack happening thirteen years ago, then disappearing, it didn't take a Nara to figure out the rest.

Naruto did a spit take at Sakura's proclamation. "W-what!?" Sasuke actually looked up from where he was practicing, curious.

Sakura ignored them to continue ranting. "Oh my god. I can't believe this. It's true isn't it!?"

Naruto, for his part, didn't know what to say. "S-Sakura. It—it's not like that—"

"Finally figured it out did ya? Only took half a month. Good job, brainiac."

Whirling on Ranma, Sakura jabbed her finger at her. "You knew this!"

Snorting, Ranma answered. "Well duh. Everybody does. Like I told you, ain't hard to figure out. Oh, and you're late. Gonna have to work you twice as hard to make up."

Sakura's lip trembled a little at the threat, but she persevered. "B-but the nine-tails? What if it escapes?"

Ranma paused and gave Sakura a long look. "So what you're saying is you don't trust Naruto, right?"

"Hell no!"

"S-Sakura." Naruto looked devastated.

Suddenly, Ranma got a foreboding look on her face. Sakura felt an involuntary shiver go down her spine. Nothing good would come from that look. "Well, in that case, I guess we'll just have to put it someplace ya do trust."

What? "W-what do you mean?" Sakura didn't want to know. She really didn't want to know.

An evil grin was her answer. "I'll just take it outta 'Ruto … and stick it in you."

It took Sakura's brain a full five seconds to catch up to that. "What!? Y-you can't do that!" She couldn't, right? Right?

"Sure I can." Smiling cheerfully, Ranma waved Naruto forward. "People here do this all the time. Can't be that hard."

The idea of having that thing in her was terrifying. It would kill her! "N-no! I—I—" Sakura turned to run, but just as she did a firm hand clasped her shoulder. She looked teary eyed at Naruto as Ranma marched her toward him. "P-please. Don't."

"H-hey." Naruto spoke up. "It—It's okay. I don't…"

"Nope. You guys are a team. Can't have you not trusting each other." She shoved Sakura forward into Naruto, sending them tumbling.

Sakura was sobbing by this point, holding desperately onto Naruto for support. "I—I hate you!"

Ranma seemed unfazed. "Hate me? Huh. Hey 'Ruto, you hate Pinky here?"

"Wh—no? Why would I—"

"Even though she wants to make you keep the nine-tails? Even though she says she doesn't trust you? Even though half the village hates you for somethin' ya didn't do?"

Sakura stared wide-eyed at Naruto. Of course he had to hate her. She was miserable to him. Learning his secret had only worsened that. Why wouldn't he want to do this? It had every advantage.

But Naruto seemed to think differently. "It—that's different. It isn't the same thing."

Ranma scoffed. "Sure it is. You didn't ask to have that stupid thing in ya. Maybe it's somebody else's turn to have a sucky life."

"No! Sakura doesn't deserve that!" Naruto didn't even hesitate. Why?

"Really?" Naruto shook his head furiously. Ranma looked insufferably pleased. "So. Ya get it yet, Pinky?"

For a moment Sakura just looked back and forth. Then she flushed and nodded dumbly.

"Good. So what do ya have to say?"

Staring into Naruto's eyes, Sakura hesitantly said, "I—I'm sorry, Naruto."

Naruto blinked, looking back and forth between Sakura and Ranma. "Sorry for what?"

Sakura studied him for a moment, then smiled through her tears. "Don't worry about it Naruto. Just … I'm sorry, okay?"

"Y-yeah. Sure." His confusion was obvious, but Sakura was too embarrassed to correct him.

Ranma started rubbing her hands together. "Great. Now that that's outta the way, we can get to business. Unless you got anythin' to add, Sas'?"

Sasuke just rolled his eyes.

"Heh, since we're getting a late start thanks to Pinky, I'll have to run you guys twice as hard today. In fact, I think it's time we had our first practical application here."

"W-what do you mean?" Please don't answer, Sakura thought.

Ranma grinned. Then she said the three words Sakura would come to hate. "Free for all."

The rules had been simple. No teaming up. Instead, each had a target. Naruto to Sakura; Sakura to Sasuke; Sasuke to Naruto. You fought till you were tagged, a tag being one, good, solid hit. Hitting your target was worth double points. Whoever got tagged the most during the training 'won' more training time with Miss Saotome. Ranma herself would be running 'interference' to make sure their training was 'successful', whatever that meant.

So it was that Sakura found herself hiding in a tree, desperately trying to think of a way to not get tagged the most and failing miserably. Even dead last had better physical scores than she had! This was going to be a nightmare.

Calming herself, she reached out with her senses and pulled in some natural ki. What at first had only been a trickle was now a solid stream. She immediately set about separating it into its more useful form. She was going to need it.

Hah! We're going to get ta kick sissy boy's ass!

Shut up! She mentally scolded herself. This isn't the time! Ever since that night, she had had trouble controlling her inner thoughts. It was almost like there were two of her, fighting for control. It was nonsense, of course, but it was bothersome nonsense.

A Naruto ran past her tree, obviously searching for her. Hmm, Miss Saotome had said that tagging a clone was the same as tagging the original. But if she struck now, Naruto would know where she was and close in on her. No, her best bet was to stay hidden and hope for the best. If Naruto took on Sasuke he'd get creamed and that would be that. Naruto would be her virgin sacrifice and she wouldn't have to lift a finger.

Fuck that!

Shut up! She scolded herself. Acting without thought would serve no purpose. She had to stay in control.

It was then that she noticed that Sasuke had found his target.

A hail of shuriken homed in on the hapless clone, if it was a clone. The Naruto detected the flurry of movement and quickly dodged, ducking into the brush directly underneath where Sakura was hiding. Before Sakura could even blink, he shimmied up the tree and onto the branch she was perched on. For a moment they just stared at each other. Then Naruto opened his fat mouth.

Before he could give her away, Sakura lunged for him and put him in a sleeper hold. "Shut up, you dunce," she hissed. Naruto was completely taken aback by her vehemence. He started to struggle, so, before he could wriggle free Sakura reached out with her new sense and … sucked.

It was different from when Naruto had willingly given his chakra before. There was a brief almost barrier to her effort, then a steady stream of chakra flooded her system. The clone popped. Ha!

Before Sakura could celebrate, Sasuke's voice carried up through the underbrush. "I know you're up there. Come down."

Sakura silently cursed her rotten luck. Hesitantly, she leaned around the tree trunk. There was Sasuke, arms crossed, looking expectantly at her. She jumped down and stood there, feeling ever more foolish.

For a moment Sasuke just studied her. Then he snorted and turned from her, placidly walking away.

Briefly, Sakura was flabbergasted. Then a rush of irrational anger overcame her. How dare he dismiss her like that! Turn his back on her like … like she was no threat at all! It was insulting! Infuriating!

Hands drawn into fists and trembling with anger, she slowly raised her arm and pointed. "Where the hell do you think you're going!" Sasuke halted mid stride. He turned his head slightly, looking at her from the corner of his eye. An eye that possessed the Sharingan, two tomoe spinning slowly.

For a moment Sakura felt a brief bout of uncertainty, before it was washed away in a fit of pique. She would show him!

Drawing back her hands, she calmly said, "Hey, Sasuke? Catch." She flung a single kunai. It sailed through the air straight at his head, but instead of jumping out of the way, Sasuke merely leaned to the side.

Sasuke almost didn't catch it in time, the slight hiss coming from the kunai. He widened his eyes fractionally before sending a pulse of chakra to his legs, leaping away. And just in time. Boom! The explosive tag loosed its contained fury on the spot that Sasuke had only moments before occupied.

Now Sasuke turned his full attention on Sakura. He was obviously surprised, but he shouldn't have been. Explosive notes were Sakura's favorite force multiplier. Low in chakra demand, high in output.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Sasuke moved.

Sakura's greatest advantage was range. Closing the distance would force her to rely on weak taijutsu skills, giving the advantage to Sasuke. Sakura knew this just as well as Sasuke did. As soon as Sasuke was a few meters from her, Sakura backpedaled. Sasuke only made it as far as where Sakura had previously been when he heard a familiar hiss again.

Leap!

Sakura could practically feel the way Sasuke's senses screamed at him. Sasuke was in the air before she could blink. When the tag went off he used the force of the explosion to direct him toward a nearby tree.

Not good enough.

He set down for only a moment when hiss! He was off the tree and on to the next, but it was to no avail, another lay waiting for him.

"Ha!" Sakura couldn't help crowing. "Did you think I was stupid!? I've covered this area with tags! You're not getting away that easily!"

In the back of her mind, Sakura realized that this braggadocio was out of character. She knew she was giving away a tactical edge here. And yet she couldn't help herself.

Something had changed in Sakura after that fateful night two weeks ago. She was more … confident. Not that she had ever lacked in confidence, but she'd never bragged about her skills before. Certainly, Sakura would never have previously challenged her crush in such a direct manner.

Had she not been so focused on her task, Sakura might have had the wherewithal to once again blame her teacher. As it was, "Come and get some!"

Despite Sakura's confidence, Sasuke was on automatic. She could see his eyes dart back and forth, picking up the traces of chakra before a tag exploded. Even as efficient as she was, Sasuke had no trouble staying ahead of her.

Finally, he landed somewhere and no flashes of chakra portended his doom. He smirked and turned on Sakura. "You've run out."

Sakura couldn't help a predatory grin.

Kra-ka-thooom!

A massive explosion ripped through the clearing, sending debris through several tree trunks. Sasuke's body flew, thrown clear by the sheer force.

"Sasuke!" Completely shaken from her fixation on victory, Sakura loosed a shrill shriek.

Sasuke crashed into a tree and rebounded, bouncing off the ground once, twice, three times. He settled into place, completely still.

Sakura came rushing up. "Oh my god, Sasuke! I didn't mean it! I just thought you couldn't see it if I used ki instead of chakra! It was supposed to be just a little one! I barely used any ki at all!"

Suddenly, Ranma was there. "You okay there Sas'?"

Slowly, painfully, Sasuke turned over, lifting his head. He winced, then gave a brief nod. Ranma carefully helped him to his feet, where he stood unsteadily.

Ranma turned a reproving glare on Sakura. "What did I say about using ki instead of chakra?"

Sakura grimaced. "It—it's dangerous if you don't practice first.

Ranma sighed, then turned back to Sasuke. "Looks like your eyes have a weakness. From now on I'll have you train to blind-fight."

Sasuke nodded again, then grunted in pain. "Not yet, right?" Ranma nodded. "Good. Sakura. Fight me."

"W-what?"

"You heard me." Sasuke was resolute, despite the pain.

"B-but, but you're injured!" Sakura looked near to tears.

Ranma rolled her eyes. "Pinky, do what Sas' says and don't complain. If you don't you're getting' my extra trainin' by default."

Sakura's lip trembled, but she nodded. She drew a tag laden kunai and stood ready.

Sasuke leaped backward, giving some room between them. Sakura couldn't tell why. It was the exact opposite of what he should have done. Maybe he was reconsidering fighting injured? The glint in his eyes said otherwise.

A moment passed, then Sasuke moved. Not as fast as before, perhaps, but his skill was in no way diminished.

Sakura survived several exchanges, but it was obvious even to her that her heart wasn't in it. The look on Sasuke's face became increasingly frustrated. He'd started slow, but each blow he exchanged with her became harder, more vicious.

Finally, Sasuke tossed a tagged kunai at a tree near Sakura. The resulting explosion blasted large pieces of shrapnel at Sakura. They didn't hit her, but…

Flashing in, replacing the slivers of trunk with his body, Sasuke twisted and leveled a punch at Sakura's torso. It connected solidly, expelling the air from her lungs. Sakura's eyes watered. "Sas … ke," she whispered, then collapsed. The last thing she saw was Sasuke shaking his head, and a shout that sounded vaguely like Naruto.

"Oo-oh." Sakura painfully returned to consciousness. She briefly wondered what had happened, before it all came back in a flash. She'd blown Sasuke up. Then been challenged in turn. Then been knocked into unconsciousness in one blow. How humiliating.

She sat up painfully and looked around. Sasuke was nearby, training as usual. This time, though, he had a blindfold on. He stood in front of a fire, trying to grab nuts out of the blaze. It was insane, and Sakura had refused to take part in it when Miss Saotome had explained the training to them, but Sasuke had taken to it with a fervor that, frankly, scared her.

Naruto sat on a nearby rock, meditating. Or trying to as the grumpy look on his face attested. Miss Saotome had called it the Soul of Ice, a technique that suppressed the emotions of the user. What it was supposed to be good for, Ranma wouldn't say, but it was probably something devious.

It was then that she laid eyes on Ranma, and her blood ran cold. Ranma was looking at her. Looking at her and … smiling. Sakura felt a shudder go through her. She briefly considered running away, no matter how futile it would be, but she really didn't want to die tired.

Ranma approached her. "Well well. Looks like sleepin' beauty is up!" Sakura didn't get the reference, but she took offense just the same. Not that she did anything about it. "Guess who lost the match, eh beauty?"

"Me." Sakura groused. Miss Saotome didn't have to rub it in.

"Got it in one! So, guess what kinda trainin' I got in mind for ya?"

Sakura looked warily into her teacher's eyes. "Dodging?" she asked.

"Hah! That's a good one. Naw, we're gonna train you in a body hardening exercise I know."

Ranma looked too insufferably pleased with herself for Sakura to relax, but the body hardening exercises she had heard of… "You mean you're going to teach me how to send chakra into my skin to protect myself from incoming hits?" She asked, her hope almost tragic in its earnestness.

The creeping smile that stretched across Ranma's face destroyed every positive belief Sakura had about the world. "Nope. I'm gonna chuck rocks at ya till you get tougher."

….

….…

Ranma took out a rock twice the size of Sakura's head. That was when Sakura started running. It took a full hour before she realized the screaming she was hearing was her own.

.

.

.

~o0{O}0o~

.

.

.

The sounds and colors of a lively populace painted the Inuzuka compound in a busy pastiche. The day was pleasant, the sun brightly shining down on the throng of rushing people and animals. Despite the haste, everyone took the time to give the wildly gesticulating kunoichi walking down its center a wide berth.

"It's infuriating! She's driving me up a wall! You've got to help me, Anko. You're my last resort."

Tsume's tirade had lasted a good ten minutes, so far, and seemed to have no end. She was so pissed off she barely payed any attention to her surroundings. Even her companion, a Special Jounin by the name of Anko Mitarashi, seemed little more than a prop for her temper.

For her part, Anko looked less than compelled by Tsume's ranting. "Gee, when you put it like that, it sounds like you really think highly of my skills. How could I say no." Anko's words were flat, but the bored look on her face belied any offense her words might suggest.

Anko was a svelte young woman of twenty-two. The first thing even a casual observer would notice about the special jounin was that she seemed to have a fondness for fishnet and dango—sweet dumplings—that bordered on the obscene. She currently had one such dango on a stick, nibbling it as she listened to Tsume rant on and on, clearly bored. "So what's the problem? One little civilian can't be this good at driving someone who made jounin crazy. What's so special about her?"

Tsume growled, her canines showing threateningly. "Dammit, what isn't special about her? The girl's got enough talent with medical jutsu she could likely give Princess Tsunade a run for her money, and she isn't even trained! Plus she's a natural at controlling and teaching ninja companions. She went from a train wreck to a natural in a week! There isn't a single animal on the compound that wouldn't follow her around all day and do anything she asked. I need her in the clan."

Tsume loosed a breath, her shoulders tense. "I was planning on hooking her up with one of the clan's boys, but it hasn't worked so far. I've waltzed over a dozen prime studs in front of her and…"

"Nothing?" Anko asked, vaguely curious despite herself.

Tsume grunted. "Worse than nothing. She's got every last one of them wrapped around her little finger. Even the taken ones! But every time they go to ask her out or something, she disappears! It's like she has some kind of thrice damned sixth sense for it! And now the boys are all fighting over her. Useless idiots."

Anko hummed.

"And Hana's been useless too. Won't help her mother at all. Just keeps feeding the kid more medical jutsu. Thinks it's 'funny'."

Anko smirked. "And let me guess, you want me here because you think the girl might be a little," She waggled her hand.

Tsume grimaced. "I figure if she swings in the other direction, it's best to know now."

Anko nodded. "So you can start parading hens instead of cocks. I get you. Well, if you want me to sniff around your precious princess, I'm up for it, so long as I get to play with her." She ignored the glare Tsume sent her way. "If we're playing duck duck goose, I suggest we go with a classic."

Tsume raised an eyebrow.

Anko rolled her eyes. "Nothing like that. Get your mind out of the gutter. We'll take her to a bathhouse. All that naked female flesh in one place, bound to get a reaction." Tsume looked thoughtful, but unsure.

"Trust me," Anko said. "All of this," she waved a hand over her body, "plus a little striptease. If that doesn't get a reaction, nothing will."

A resolute look came over Tsume's face. "Alright, then. We'll try it. Let's go. Ranma and Hana should be nearly finished with their shift, anyway."

"What, now?" Anko wasn't all that surprised. It was Tsume after all.

"I need to find out now, before things get any more out of hand. If she is, ah, more like you, I don't need her breaking all those boys' hearts for nothing."

"Why don't we bring Hana along, too?" Anko suggested, somewhat naughtily. "If she is interested in girls, Hana's your best bet."

Tsume grinned cheekily. "Of course! What did you think I was going to do?"

"That's it Ranma. I think you've got it!"

Hana was amazed. She'd spent the last four weeks training Ranma in every medical jutsu she could think of. Ranma had taken to it like a fish to water. Every technique Hana had given her she had picked up, sometimes within minutes of seeing it. It was … amazing. There was no other word for it.

They had started with a bevy of medical scans, each one more intricate than the last. At no point did Ranma seem to have trouble. Her control was perfect. Combined with her knowledge of anatomy, Ranma was soon the master of every one she was shown.

This had excited Hana enough that she took it to the next level, with basic healing jutsu, using the patients' own chakra to heal themselves. This led to a rather startling discovery. Instead of learning the jutsu, as soon as she had seen it, Ranma declared it barbaric and refused to practice it. When asked why, Ranma had insisted that it was as good as killing the patient, shortening their life.

Stumped, Hana instead showed Ranma more advanced techniques that used the doctor's own chakra. Ranma had been okay with those, and had even proved to have a real flare for them.

Finally, as Hana ran out of basic and intermediate jutsu to show her, she introduced Ranma to seals, fuinjutsu. Normally the least popular of the schools of medicine, Ranma had actually been even more eager to learn it. Surprisingly, she was quite good at her penmanship. She mentioned knowing a master at some point.

It was on this that Hana was teaching her newest and most certainly brightest student. The renewal seal, a seal meant to bring life back into muscles, was a lightning based affinity. Ranma had shown no signs of having trouble. The look on her face when the dead fish they'd laid on top of the seal had begun to flop around of its own volition was one of fascination. Fascination and excitement.

Hana stood over Ranma at the table, nodding approvingly. "Alright, now that you've got that down, we'll move on to more advanced techniques, such as affecting individual muscles."

Ranma smirked. "Bring it on."

Normally Hana would find such arrogance annoying, but in Ranma it was actually a little endearing.

Before Hana had a chance to answer, the door in the front of the building banged open and a voice called, "Hana!"

Hana froze. That was her mother. Oh no, not another boy.

From Ranma's pained expression she was expecting it too. "She ever gonna give up?" Ranma whispered to her, sounding resigned. Hana winced.

It had been amusing at first, watching as Ranma flirted and toyed with the boys that Tsume brought in, but it soon became apparent that she had absolutely no interest in them. Then it just became painful seeing Ranma ducking their clumsy efforts at courtship. "I doubt it," she whispered back.

"Hana! You back there!?" The door slammed open—Tsume's calling card—and in walked her mother … and Anko. Oh god, this couldn't bode well. Whenever the two of them got together it was like Tsume became twice as bad. Anko was a terrible influence.

Anko must have seen the look Hana was giving her because she gave her a grin right back. "Hey there Hana. Been a while." Busy as she had been at the hospital, Hana hadn't been socializing much.

"Yeah. How are you?" Not that she wanted to know, but social niceties must be met.

Anko's grin could set fire to a rain cloud. "Just fine. Even better since your mom invited me to the bathhouse for a nice relaxing soak. We figured it'd be even nicer if we had extra company, so we came to pick you two up. Come on, her treat." The glare Tsume sent Anko's way gave lie to that.

What was going on? They were obviously planning something, but what? It wasn't like they could throw boys at Ranma in the female only side of the bathhouse. Not without creating a much greater commotion than even those two would like. What were they thinking?

Suddenly, Ranma laughed nervously. "Ah, thanks, but I don't think I—"

"Oh come on!" Tsume interjected. "You two've been cooped up in here for the past month doing nothing but studying those dusty old books and playing with fish." She ignored the twin glares sent her way. "Your shift is almost over anyway, relax a little."

Ranma seemed supremely uncomfortable for some reason. Why? There was a connection there. Tsume and Anko knew something, and Ranma was being tested.

For what though? For the life of her, Hana couldn't figure it out. Regardless, from the looks she was getting from her mother, she had no choice but to play along with their little scheme. "Come on Ranma. A little soak would do us both some good. And since mom is paying it shouldn't be that big a deal for you."

Oh yeah, the look on Tsume's face could kill. Well, tough. Hana was hardly going to spend her hard earned money on any of her mother's harebrained ideas.

Looping Ranma's arm in her own, Hana began dragging her out the door, pausing to give her mother a meaningful look. This had better be worth it.

They chatted about nothing as they walked, taking the scenic route to the establishment. However, as they drew nearer their destination, Ranma began to look more and more resigned, as if she was being marched to her execution. It was bizarre. Tsume and Anko were obviously on to something.

They entered the bathhouse and promptly paid the clerk. It was still early yet for the evening crowd to come in so they mostly had the place to themselves.

As they walked in to the changing area, Anko suddenly got a devilish look on her face. She wrapped an arm around Ranma's shoulder and started talking conversationally. "So, I hear you've got all the boys wrapped around your little finger, eh?" Ranma gagged. "Hah! Don't be like that. I'm sure one of them will catch your eye. In fact, why don't I give you a few pointers."

This was their plan? Have Anko give her a pep talk? That wouldn't work at all!

But Anko wasn't finished. "Alright, first the sexy look." Anko gave Ranma a sultry stare, fluttering her eyelashes a little. Ranma looked like she'd been caught in front of a train.

"Then, the bedroom voice." She lowered her voice a few octaves.

"Of course, you've got to have the walk down." Anko slowly sauntered around Ranma, rolling her hips as she did.

"Then, the light touch." Anko's fingers feathered over Ranma's face, her shoulders, through her hair. Ranma looked close to hyperventilating.

Anko leaned in to Ranma's side, whispering in her ear. "And finally, when you have them where you want them, the striptease."

Hana did a spit-take. The what!?

Anko began to swerve back and forth. As she did so she slowly began removing her clothing in the most obscene show Hana had ever been subjected to. Hana's face was so red she could barely keep herself from walking away right then. Anything would be better than the stares they were getting.

Finally, Anko slipped out of her mesh underclothes and stood before them completely naked. Somehow she made it look far more obscene than it should have been. She turned and gave her butt a shake, then leaned in toward Ranma and whispered huskily, "So? What did you think?"

For a moment Ranma said nothing, and Hana worried the poor girl had been overloaded. She was right to be worried. A bit of blood seeped out of Ranma's nose. Ranma let out a faint squeak that sounded vaguely like "Nipples," then her eyes rolled up into her head and she fainted dead away.

"Holy—what did you do to Ranma, you bitch!?" Hana exclaimed.

Anko ignored Hana and turned to Tsume, who was frowning. "Well, there you go."

Hana was hunched over Ranma trying to bring her back to consciousness. "Go? What are you talking about!?"

It was Tsume who answered, frowning. "I had a feeling—since Ranma wasn't responding to the boys—that maybe she was … well, gay."

"And you thought the best way to find out was to perform a strip show!? What kind of jounin are you!?"

Anko grinned. "The sexy kind."

It was lucky Hana was preoccupied with the unconscious Ranma. Otherwise, she might have found the time to start throwing things.

Tsume gave a sigh. "Well, so much for that idea. Strip her down and bring her into the bath, Hana. I've got to think on this a while."

Sighing in frustration, Hana moved to follow her mother's orders, undressing herself and then Ranma and carrying her into the bath.

As she entered, her mother was deep in thought, absently scrubbing herself. Anko was nearby, washing more vigorously. They cleaned themselves in silence, Hana taking care of Ranma as much as she was willing, and moved to the outdoor hot spring. Tsume was the last in.

Finally, Anko broke the silence. "Well, if you still want her in your clan, there's only one thing to do."

Tsume sighed. "Yeah, seems that way. I had been hoping to avoid it, but desperate times…"

Hana looked suspiciously between the two. "What are you two talking about? I hope this isn't another ill-thought out plan of yours."

Anko gave her a bright smile. "Come on Hana. Put two and two together. Your mother wants Ranma in her clan. Ranma is gay. What does that say to you, female shaped person?"

Hana froze. "No. Oh no. No no nonono. Forget it. I'm not some brood mare for you to marry off!"

Tsume actually looked uncomfortable. "Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about this for some time, Hana. I've been putting it off because… You know most clans decide who their members marry. It usually isn't up to the individual to decide. I'd been hoping you'd find someone, but you haven't so much as breathed a word of interest."

"Oh god, this isn't happening. I am not having this conversation." Hana put her face in her hands.

"Honestly Hana, you act like marriage is the end of the world. You've got to find someone sometime."

Curtly, Hana said, "Yes. Sometime. Eventually. As in not now. I've got too much going on, between work and study—"

"That's an excuse and you know it," Tsume scolded. "You're nineteen Hana. You're well past the age when you should be interested in this sort of thing. Honestly, given your lack of interest in boys, I'm wondering if you aren't gay as well!"

Hana scoffed. "That would be perfect for you wouldn't it? Then you could hook me up with Ranma without feeling any guilt!"

"I doubt I'd feel guilty for looking out for your future, Hana. And who says it has to be Ranma? I can set up some meetings with a few boys if that's where your taste lies. Give you the pick of the litter."

Hana scowled at the thought. She didn't want to get married. She had too much she needed to do. She needed time, that's what she needed. But how?

A thoughtful look crossed her face. What if… Oh that was a terrible, no good idea. She should be ashamed of even thinking it. But … but it had to be done. There was no way she was getting married. "Alright."

Tsume blinked. "Alright? You'll agree to meet with some prospective husbands?"

"I didn't say that." Tsume narrowed her eyes. "No, you want Ranma in the clan? Fine. I'll pursue her. I mean, who knows, maybe I am gay. It's not like I can even think of the thought of having a husband without feeling annoyance. So I'll do it. Happy?"

Tsume's eyes were still narrowed. She obviously suspected something. And from the smirk on Anko's face, Hana hadn't covered her tracks nearly as well as she hoped she had. But whatever. For now she was in the clear.

Tsume crossed her arms. "The point is to make you happy, not me. But fine, if you think you can get her, be my guest."

Hana gave a sigh of relief. That bought her some time at least. She'd have to put on a show, but she wouldn't have to worry about marriage for a while.

As they soaked in silence, the evening crowd filtered in until the spring was filled with chattering females. Finally, Ranma awoke.

"O-oh."

Hana looked down at her side where Ranma was leaning. Slowly, the girl opened her eyes and looked around. As soon as she realized her position she immediately jumped up and started stuttering and waving her arms. "D-don't hit me! I'm sorry!"

Frowning, Hana reached out and laid a hand on Ranma's hip. Ranma tensed. "It's okay Ranma. No one is going to hit you."

Ranma looked suspiciously at her. "A-are ya sure?"

"Of course Ranma. You're perfectly safe here." Hana reassured her. Perhaps it was time to put a bit of pressure on her. "Why would you think otherwise?"

Ranma fiddled with her pigtail, a telltale sign that she was nervous. She looked everywhere but at Hana, but everywhere she looked there was a naked woman. Her face looked like a tomato it was so red. Finally her eyes rested on the back wall. She stilled. "Don't look now, but I think we got a peepin' Tom."

"A what?" Hana asked, puzzled.

"A pervert. Over by the wall."

Anko surreptitiously glanced over at the indicated spot. "I don't see anything."

"Where'd ya put my clothes?" Ranma asked.

"They're in the changing room, second cubby from the left," Hana indicated. "What are you going to do?"

Ranma smiled. "Take care of 'im, of course."

Before they could stop her, she'd rushed into the changing room and grabbed her clothes. She dressed in record time and was back outside in a second. She leaped the wall, the three of them following, peaking their heads over. Surprisingly, just like Ranma had claimed, there was a pervert. It was an old man with white hair and a strange, horned headband giggling and writing in a notepad.

"Isn't that—" Tsume started to murmur.

"Hey you! What the hell do ya think you're doing!" Ranma called.

The man looked up, wide eyed, then immediately jumped from his spot and started running.

"Hey! Don't think you can get away that easily!" Ranma took off after him, leaving three bewildered women behind.

.

.

.

~o0{O}0o~

.

.

.

"Huff, huff, huff… I think I lost her. Finally."

Jiraiya was exhausted. He'd never had that much trouble getting away from an irate female before. Even his most prized jutsu, the Transparent Escape Technique, had failed him, not that he knew how.

She had literally run him out of town. He was deep within the Forest of Death. Surely she wouldn't pursue him here? This was why he shouldn't spy on kunoichi, he told himself. They were in perfect health.

Then again, he thought lecherously, they were in perfect health.

As Jiraiya stood breathing in and out, trying to relax, an increasingly and depressingly familiar voice spoke behind him.

"There you are."

Jiraiya groaned.

"Why don't you take your beating like a man?" the voice said with far too much glee.

Jiraiya turned to face his pursuer. "Now, now, little lady." He gave her his best ladies' man grin. "Why don't we talk this out, hmm?"

The girl started pounding her fist against her hand. "Now that we're outta the city, I don't gotta hold back."

Ah well, looked like he'd have to get his hands a little dirty after all. A pity, she was quite attractive. And boy was she well endowed.

He barely had time to stop his leering as a foot blew past where his head had been only seconds before. Okay. She was fast. A taijutsu specialist. He could handle that. He just needed—

Wump!

Jiraiya's face exploded in pain as the girl seemed to simply disappear and reappear, her fist burying itself into his nose. He flipped through the air, stunned at the force behind the blow.

As he fell, an errant thought floated through his now slightly scrambled brain, a picture of this girl being the illicit spawn of the Fourth Hokage and Tsunade. Both cackled cartoonishly at him. He quickly shook his head free of it. He couldn't be that unlucky. Right?

He landed, his feet taking the force a little more roughly than he'd like. The girl made to move again.

"Wait!" Jiraiya held out a hand. Surprisingly, the girl stopped. "If I've got to fight a vision of loveliness, I at least need to know her name."

The girl tilted her head. "Ranma Saotome. Nothing personal, but as long as I'm fighting you I ain't back there, talking about 'feelings'." The girl held up her fingers in air quotes.

Well. That was … deflating. She didn't actually care about him? She was just using him to get out of a difficult conversation? He wasn't sure his ego could take that kind of beating.

Hmm, in that case, perhaps it was time to play dirty. Literally. "Toad Oil Bullet!" Jiraiya's chakra congealed, and thick, viscous strings of oil shot from his mouth, spraying the spot where the little lady had just stood.

Jiraiya wasn't satisfied with just one or two shots. He spewed dozens, coating every tree within a dozen meters with the mucous-like oil. As he predicted, the little lady kept far out of range. Now, for the second stage of his plan.

"Earth Release: Swamp of the Underworld!" The dirt underneath their feet turned soupy, and a great swamp arose around him, out past even the trees Jiraiya had struck. Ranma moved even further back.

Jiraiya felt like crowing. He had her now! "Ha! Behold, the unbeatable technique: Rebuffing the Twice Washed Maiden!"

"What."

Ah, how adorable. The little lady needed an explanation. Well, as long as the girl was asking, Jiraiya was only happy to explain. "Rebuffing the Twice Washed Maiden is a secret technique passed down through the ages. Everyone knows, once risen from the sparkling waters of a hot spring, a maiden will abhor anything unclean. She will go to great lengths to avoid soiling herself."

The girl stared in wonder at Jiraiya's deviousness. "You think I ain't gonna hit ya … because I'm afraid of getting dirty?"

How sad. Poor girl. She was clearly too innocent to have anticipated such an underhanded trick. It was inspiring, in a way. In fact, Jiraiya could already think of at least two chapters worth of plot he could write on this concept alone! "Of course! The sanctity of your purity is such that you will go to any lengths to protect it, even at the cost of your life. It's classic! It's romantic! It's—oof-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-aaaaargh!"

The foot to his gut was unexpected, as was the seemingly uncountable number of times it returned there in the span of what couldn't have been more than an instant. Jiraiya went flying.

Crash! Cra-cra-cra-cra-crack!

Thump!

That … was several houses worth of trees he was just sent through. His back really couldn't take that sort of punishment.

Spla-thunk!

The little lady, who Jiraiya was increasingly beginning to think of as Ranma, sent a foot spearing into the swamp, centimeters from where Jiraiya's head was. Her eyes spoke of deep annoyance. "So. Got any other bright ideas about my 'purity'?"

Jiraiya furiously shook his head.

Ranma sighed, then backed off a few feet. "You know, I can tell you're a lot more powerful than you're letting on. But if you don't take this seriously, you're gonna get your face stomped into the dirt."

Jiraiya blinked, considering that. "I'm beginning to think you're telling the truth about using me as a distraction." She shrugged, not denying it. How humiliating.

Well, he had more than one trick up his sleeve. Time to deny her her victory! "Well, in that case, Ninja Art: Needle Jizo!"

Jiraiya's long white hair spun and twisted, hard as nails, forcing the girl back. Before she could retaliate, Jiraiya's second devious plan took hold.

"You buried yourself in hair."

"Hah!" Jiraiya crowed. Or tried to. It was hard to speak around the mouthful of now quite lengthy locks that enveloped his body. "This technique is so much more than the stylish trendsetter it appears to be! The user grows their hair to a great length, wrapping their body as they do. Then, they harden each strand to a strength exceeding that of steel! Each strand stands out from the body as a spiked knife, forming a perfect defense against the woes of the world."

"So I can't touch you, is what you're saying?" Ranma's voice filtered in.

Heh. Poor thing sounded bamboozled. Such was the lot of the foes of the great Toad Sage. "Afraid not, little lady. I hate to bring bad news to such a vision of loveliness, but this is checkmate!"

"Ah. Okay. Moko Takabisha."

Fierce Tiger what?

Cra-ka-thoom!

Ah. Ow. That … that hurt, didn't it? Jiraiya was fairly certain it did. At any rate, the force of the blow was enough to somehow shatter most of the needles his hair had formed.

"Moko Takabisha!"

Wasn't that what she said the first time? Oh dear.

Boom!

"Moko Takabisha! Moko Takabisha, Moko Takabisha, Moko Takabisha!"

Cr-ack! Thoom! Ba-boom!

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Thump!

Jiraiya landed what felt like a significant distance away. He was fairly certain it was in one piece, but there were definitely parts of him too numb to be certain of. His hair pulled away from his now shattered body, and he stared up into the forest canopy. "I … think it's time to rethink this strategy."

The old pervert was surprisingly easy to track, Ranma had found. While it was faint, there was a definite air of pure ki about the old fellow that stood out to her senses like a siren screaming at midnight.

That was interesting enough on its own, but he was clearly capable of taking a significant beating, too. By this point, half of Ranma's old rivals would have passed out. It made her curious.

She'd had little chance to stretch her legs since she'd gotten here. Even her throw-downs with the dicks that dragged her into this mess had largely been kept as quiet as possible, staged in the middle of the night as they were. She'd been yearning for a real fight. Too bad the old man didn't seem to want to give her one.

Ranma had long since dropped the idea of treating girls as being automatically less than her in skill. Not to say she always went full out, but, to be honest, there were few enough of either gender that warranted that level of force. No, Ranma knew there were girls out there that had frightening levels of skill, and a part of her was eager to meet it.

That didn't mean other people had come to the same conclusion, though. It was infuriating, being on the other end of this sort of treatment, and Ranma felt a sharp twinge of guilt for her own past actions towards Akane and others like her that she'd tried to steamroll over.

Still, that didn't solve her current predicament. Getting a good fight out of an idiot was harder than it looked.

She crested a small hill, following the old man's ki signature. What she saw as she did had her pulling to a dead stop.

There was a house.

Seriously.

Did the old perv think she was an idiot?

It at least looked like a real house. A trail of smoke was merrily wafting away from a smokestack. The doors and windows were open, showing an inviting interior that smelled of freshly baked cookies. Inside, the old man was cheerfully drinking tea.

He looked up and waved. "Hey there, little lady! I found this lovely little granny's house, and she invited me in for tea and cookies. She should be back any second. Why don't you come in and we can discuss this?"

Ranma's eyes narrowed. "Moko Takabisha."

The old man's eyes widened comically. "Wait! No! Think of the granny!"

Cra-boom!

The frame of the 'building' shook, smoke billowing out. The vibrating worsened, the entire building creaking like it might come down at any second. Then it disappeared in a poof of smoke.

In its place was a small, brown and gray frog, weaving back and forth like it was drunk. From the forest came a cry. "No! Mise Gama!" The old man—the real one this time—rushed out and swept up the toad like he was a lifelong friend. Which, honestly, he probably was, given Ranma's experience. The old perv gave her a reproving glare. "How could you be so heartless!?"

Ranma rolled her eyes. "You tried to trap me inside that thing. You ain't got any right to be mad when you suck at following through."

The old man ignored her, instead fussing over the toad's injuries.

Once he seemed certain his toad wasn't too badly injured, the old pervert patted him on the head. "That's enough for today. Go back and rest." The toad disappeared in another poof of smoke that Ranma was beginning to think was just a weird side effect of summoning, here.

The man stood, then hunched down, splaying his hands out to his front and to the rear of his side. Was he getting serious? The spark in his eye suggested he was. "Very well. As you desire, I shall tell you my true identity!"

Ranma raised an eyebrow, then sarcastically prodded, "Who asked for your name? Who?"

The old man continued, undeterred. "The title of frog hermit is merely a disguise. I am the man who has no match in the North, South, East, and West. Not even in the heavens! I am one of the Sannin, the white maned frog tamer. The great Jiraiya!"

Aho! Aho! In the distance, a crow called through the silence.

"So does this mean you're gonna take me seriously, or—"

"Needle Hell!"

Thousands of needles launched from Jiraiya's mane, screaming towards Ranma at a pace almost too fast to see. Ranma leaped backwards, the needles tearing through the ground she just vacated. Her body moved in what seemed to her as slow motion, turning until it was almost parallel with the ground. With her silhouette minimized, Ranma's hand darted out at supersonic speeds, catching or redirecting hundreds of darts aimed at her vitals.

"You'll hafta do better than that!"

But Jiraiya was just getting started. "Fire Release: Flame Bullet!"

A burst of fire exploded in Ranma's direction, but she already had her hand down, the ground giving her purchase. With a flash, she blurred out of existence, moving too fast to be seen.

"Wild Lion's Mane!"

Jiraiya's hair once again shifted, but, this time, it didn't move to cover himself. Instead, a maw formed at its end and flew towards Ranma, twisting and turning at bleeding speed.

Really? An animated length of hair? That was insultingly easy to deal with.

Ranma danced through the forest, moving back and forth through the tree line. The maw of hair doggedly followed her, twisting itself through and around. Ranma followed a haphazardly circuitous path, no obvious pattern to her wanderings. Then she made a beeline for Jiraiya.

Jiraiya laughed. "Please! That's the oldest trick in the book! Do you seriously think I don't see what—" Crunch! "Mmff!" Ranma's foot lodged itself firmly in Jiraiya's face.

"You can't grow your hair and dodge at the same time, dumb-ass!"

Jiraiya shook himself, then used what must have been decades of experience to hone in on Ranma's location … directly to his back. "Hah!" Jiraiya reached out and grabbed her, crowing at his victory. "At point blank range, you have no chance!"

The Ranma raised an eyebrow, then pointed to Jiraiya's rear. "Forget about something?"

As she poofed into nonexistence, Jiraiya had only a moment to realize his mistake before the maw slammed into him. "Mmmff!" Down he went in a tangle.

Ranma watched with growing disinterest as Jiraiya's hair receded, pulling back until there was nothing left but the man, breathing heavily into the dirt. She prodded at his body with a stick, making sure he was still conscious. He was. "So, not bad, I guess. Got anything more interesting?"

"Heh. Heh heh. Hahahahahahaha! Interesting!?" Jiraiya tried to push himself up. Failed. Tried again. Ranma noticed belatedly that there was a small amount of blood on the man's hand. "I'll show you interesting! Summoning: Toad Mouth Bind!"

From the bloodied hand, the summoning seal activated. Suddenly, they were no longer in the forest. Instead, they seemed to be inside the esophagus of a monster. "Behold, the inescapable jutsu! Never has anyone before escaped its mighty—ah! You hit me!"

Ranma rolled her eyes from where she had a grip on Jiraiya's shoulder, and punched him in the face again.

"Ow! Dammit, stop that!"

"Make me."

"Ow! Okay, okay! You win little lady. I give up."

Ranma sighed. Well, it had been fun while it lasted. She made to stand.

"Heh. Heh heh heh. Hahahahaha! I see you've noticed."

Ranma was stuck. She stared down at her feet and knee, where the lining of the toad's throat had adhered to her clothes and flesh.

"Ha! Like I said, there's no escape from—ah! Ow!"

Ranma continued punching Jiraiya, making sure to keep a solid grip.

"That—ah! That's enough! You're—ow! You're not going to escape from—oof! Here!"

The cavernous throat rumbled, and a belch of flame flooded the passageway. Ranma waited for it to pass over her, then continued punching her now toasty prisoner.

"How did you—ah! No matter! I—gah! I have one final trick up my—guh! Take this!"

The floor rumbled. The walls began to ripple. Was the ceiling coming closer? Dammit, Ranma was in trouble and she knew it.

She loosed a Moko Takabisha into the wall. The flesh wobbled slightly. A vacuum blade followed, opening up a slight tear, which was quickly subsumed. The walls loomed closer.

Dammit dammit dammit! She was starting freak out. The only thing that could make this worse would be—

"Go, Saimingama!" A small, green and brown toad appeared on Jiraiya's head.

What?

The toad opened its mouth, and space itself seemed to convulse.

W~nnnnng.

That … what was … that … she … where…

From behind her, a sound echoed from nothingness.

"Me-ow."

No. No no no.

A small figure moved from the recesses, shrouded in darkness. Another followed. Then another. They collected at the fringes of Ranma's vision, waiting, watching. They couldn't—this couldn't—this was all wrong! This was—

"Me—"

"Aaaaaaah!"

The last thing Ranma saw was the monsters leaping at her as the walls swallowed her up.

.

.

.

~o0{O}0o~

.

.

.

Darkness.

The void buoyed her up.

It pulled at her sanity.

It consumed her.

This darkness, it was wrong. It shouldn't be.

There should be life here. Joy.

But the radiance she knew in the very pits of her soul was nowhere. Nothing.

Nothing but a void.

It made her weep.

She wept tears of gold.

Wait. There was something. A small speck. A tiny island in a sea of nothingness.

A world beyond measure, yet debased.

It traveled through the void, empty of purpose.

It needed purpose.

What was its purpose?

Its purpose was life.

Its purpose was life, and Ranma was the plough with which it would till the soil.

Ranma was the gardener, separating the wheat from the chaff.

Ranma was its light.

For the first time in her life, she opened her eyes, and saw the truth.

Her Essence rejoiced.

.

.

.

~o0{O}0o~

.

.

.

"Aaaagh-guh."

Jiraiya more oozed than walked from his toad summon trap. He felt like he'd been brutally murdered by a lion, consumed, digested, merged with the animal that killed him, slaughtered again, then put through a meat grinder. His clothes were ripped to shreds, his body littered with seeping wounds. It had taken him the better part of two hours to get free of the girl's psychotic grip. Twilight was setting in.

"Aaaaaaa-ow."

This was what he got for relying on Saimingama's genjutsu. But, really, how was he to know that some nutjob had trained the girl to be a berserker? It was crazy! There were so many better ways to deal with genjutsu than forcing a student to go insane. If Jiraiya ever met the asshole who trained the girl, he'd have to be restrained from killing the bastard.

"Oh-aaaaw."

Still, at least he was free of the girl, now. Mostly. He'd need to wait out her 'episode', give her time to cool off. Hopefully she'd see the error of her ways, then.

Dear god, he hoped.

"Ga-aargh."

Slowly, Jiraiya pulled himself into a sitting position. Damn. This was really bad. He wasn't going to have a choice about getting help.

He really didn't want to call them up. Being mocked for incompetence wasn't his favorite activity. But he'd already started the summoning. Even if he didn't finish it, they'd know something was up. They'd find out another way. Then he'd really be in for it. Might as well get it over with now.

"Summoning—guh—Jutsu."

"Eh? What's this?"

"Boy, what have you gotten yourself into now!"

Jiraiya stared morosely at the two toads now merged with his shoulders. "Hey—agh—hey there, ma, pa."

The aging toad on his left shoulder, Shima, let out a harsh squawk. "Don't you 'hey there' me, boy! What have you done!?"

"Now ma," the other toad, a white bristled codger named Fukasaku, tried to calm his wife, "this really ain't the time. Whatever the boy has gotten himself into is obviously serious. Go on, boy. Tell us the situation."

"Well, you see,"

"Yes, yes. What is it?"

"I was doing some research for my book,"

Shima and Fukasaku look at Jiraiya incredulously. "Your … book."

"Yes. And, well, I ran into this specimen of perfection. And she, well, she couldn't get enough of me. So, uh, I kind of need to recharge a bit, before I … go back in?"

"Wha-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!?"

"Spying on women!? That's what got you into—"

"How could you be so stupid—"

"—you bring shame on—"

"—over that pervy nonsense—"

"—in all my days, I've never—"

"—did you even think, you—"

"—what the hell is the matter with you, you—"

"Idiot!"

The two incensed toads punctuated their cry with two punches directly into Jiraiya's cheeks. "Mmrgh! I know, I know! I'm sorry! It just happened! I didn't think she—"

"Of course you didn't think! Not with your brain, you didn't!" Shima seemed like she wanted to climb down Jiraiya's throat and kick him in the spleen from the inside.

"Look, I—can you just help me!"

"Why should we!?"

"It sounds like you're getting exactly what you deserve, boy!"

"It's not that simple!" Jiraiya tried to explain. "Look, she didn't even care about the spying. She just wanted a fight. At least, that's what she said in the middle of using me as a punching bag. But when I had Saimingama use a genjutsu on her, she went berserk! She started acting like a cat, tearing into everything. Someone tortured her until she broke, and I need your help to figure out what to do about it. If someone in the village is using techniques like that, the Hokage needs to know."

"Fine. We'll help this girl," Shima conceded. "And only this girl. If she attacks you again, you're on your own, dunderhead."

Jiraiya let loose a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"We're not doing it for you, moron!" Fukasaku jabbed him in the cheek again.

Shima and Fukasaku turned and surveyed their surroundings. For a moment, Jiraiya almost opened his mouth to explain again, but something stopped him.

Both Shima and Fukasaku had stilled.

"Boy, what is this?" Fukasaku asked.

"Er," Jiraiya turned his head, then looked over the mess he and the girl had left, examining it for the first time with the senses being in sage mode gave him. "What the—"

The battlefield was littered with the remains of their battle. The scent and sense of chakra was everywhere. Much of it was his, but, at the same time, there was a rush of natural energy that seemed out of place. Normally, the amount of natural energy in one place was low, but this…

"I … did manage to call you two much faster than I normally would."

"There!" Shima called. She pointed towards the exit from the fire-breathing toad's esophagus. "Do you feel that, pa? It's immense!"

"I've never felt such a concentration of natural energy. It should be impossi—"

The ground underneath their feet shook. Jiraiya paled. "Oh no. Please, spirits in heaven, I'm sorry for what I've—"

Shzzzzzzzzz-cr-ack!

The sound of pure natural energy—and Jiraiya knew better than to doubt it was anything else—snapped through the forest air. His trap began to rumble, the flesh seizing as if in great pain.

Then, the entrance opened.

Jiraiya redoubled his prayers.

Szzle-pop-pop.

Faint at first, then growing louder, the sound of cooking meat hit Jiraiya's ears. Deep within the entrance, a glow began to form.

Shit! Shit shit shit! Jiraiya was in no position to take on a senjutsu user, much less someone who somehow had managed to weaponize pure energy. It was insane. "H-hey. Ma, pa? I think I'm gonna need—"

Fukasaku leaped from Jiraiya's shoulder. "You're on your own, boy!"

Shima followed. "Kick his teeth in, girl!"

"E-eeeeee."

Despite Jiraiya's voiceless scream, the glow came steadily closer. It grew hotter and hotter until, finally, she stepped into view.

She was magnificent, Jiraiya could at least acknowledge that. Even with her clothes mostly ruined, the girl stood tall, like she owned the world.

A cloak of what could only be called sunlight enveloped her, gently swirling around her form, leaving halos of light behind in each sweeping step. On her brow was a glowing ring, the top half of the circle shining like the setting sun behind them.

Her steps were measured, each bringing her assuredly closer. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Jiraiya felt as if each step were being placed directly on his spine. Which, given recent history, might very well be prescient.

The girl's eyes were closed, her features a placid vision of peace. She stopped mere feet from Jiraiya.

Jiraiya swallowed roughly. "N-now now, there's no need to continue, you know. You win. Beat me fair and square. I've definitely learned my lesson."

The girl said nothing.

"Yep, definitely learned my lesson. I'll never spy on anyone ever again. Jiraiya the Pure, that's what they'll call me. Because of all the not spying I'll be doing."

The only acknowledgment she gave was a slight twitch of her lips, down.

Jiraiya redoubled his babbling efforts "Or—or you could decide my punishment? I'll gladly work off any debts you feel I owe. I am a sage after all. It's part of the job to perform acts of penance for—for what have you. You … are you listening?"

"Snzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

Ranma started to lean forward.

Thwump!

The girl fell face first into the loam.

What?

"Ha! You should see the look on your face, boy!" Shima cackled from the safe spot she'd found on a large rock a little ways away.

From beside his wife, Fukasaku added to Jiraiya's humiliation. "Even when he was training with us he wasn't that terrified. Makes you feel inadequate, doesn't it?"

Shima slapped a webbed hand on her side. "Like we should redouble our efforts, I know!"

Fukasaku turned thoughtful. "Boy does seem to have the luck of the devil, though. I thought we'd actually have to step in for a second there."

Shima didn't seem quite as empathetic. "Hmph. He deserved worse, in my opinion."

Jiraiya rubbed his head, slowly lowering himself down to sit beside the girl. "I need a vacation."

"Would this vacation involve doing the same thing that got you into this situation?" Fukasaku curiously asked. Or sarcastically, one of the two.

"I was thinking more along the lines of a spa," Jiraiya deflected.

"With women."

Jiraiya very pointedly ignored the jab. "Now what?"

"What do you think, boy?" Fukasaku chastised. "Call up Mise Gama and get this girl into a bed. The sooner she wakes up the sooner we can find out how she learned to do that. Pure natural energy. It should be impossible!"

Fukasaku and Shima proceeded to argue amongst themselves about the implications of what they'd just witnessed.

For his part, Jiraiya was just glad to be mostly still in one piece. A very well beaten piece, but one piece nonetheless. He looked down at the sleeping girl, happily snoring into the dirt, a small smile on her face.

"I should have gone looking for the Nadeshiko Village instead."

.

.

.

~o0{O}0o~

.

.

.

The smell of miso soup brewing was the first sense of anything Ranma had. The hearty scent tantalized her senses, drawing her from her sleep. But, for the first time in her life, Ranma resisted that call.

The dream, unlike any other she'd had before, was bright in her mind. It promised everything. A purpose. A goal to which she could reach. The promise of meaning. The ultimate fulfillment of her duty as a martial artist.

Yet, at the same time, the details were infuriatingly just out of reach. A simple dream wasn't enough. If she was to crystallize this ambition, she needed to stretch further, do more. If only she could decide how.

So it was that the siren call wafting in through her nostrils began a war within her self. Hunger, purpose, hunger, purpose.

In the end, momentarily at least, hunger won out. She opened her eyes. "Mmm … hah?"

She was inside the toad house.

Specifically, she was on a bed inside a bedroom in what definitely felt like the same chakra flows as the toad house from before.

Ranma tilted her head. What happened? Oh yeah, she got a tad bit overexcited during her little sparring session with the pervert. Did she lose? Somehow, that didn't bother her as much as it might have, given that she felt like a million yen right then. "Hello?" she called.

The door cracked open, and in hopped a toddler sized, well, toad. At least, she was pretty sure he was a toad. She'd never seen one with white, furry bristles on its face before, but that was hardly the strangest thing she'd ever encountered. "Er, hi."

The toad chuckled. "Hey there, little lady. Before I say anything else, I just want to apologize for the boy. Little Jiraiya has a tendency to, well…"

"Be a pervert?" Ranma dryly finished. The toad looked uncomfortable, so Ranma just rolled her eyes. "Like I told him, I didn't care about that. I was just looking for a good fight. And to get out of talking about something."

The toad studied her for a moment, before seeming to come to a conclusion. "Well, my name is Fukasaku. My wife, Shima, is the one cooking your supper. Though it's more of a midnight snack at this point. It's nice to meet a fellow sage, Miss Saotome."

Ranma blinked, confused. "Er, sage?"

The look in Fukasaku's eyes was sharp. "Oh? Don't call it that where you're from, eh? I get the feeling you're not from around here, little miss."

Ranma fiddled with the edge of her blanket, suddenly nervous. "Ah, well, not really."

Fukasaku chuckled. "Don't worry. Your secrets are safe with me. I'm more interested in how you managed to learn to use pure natural energy so effortlessly. Even the greatest of the toad sages haven't picked up that trick."

Ranma relaxed as the conversation turned to a less dangerous subject. "You mean ki? Everyone can do that where I'm from. Was kinda freaked out when I found out no one here could."

Fukasaku nodded sagely. "Hmm. Hmm. What would you say is the difference, then?"

Ranma shrugged. "Eh, where I come from, energy is pure. Here, it ain't. Land of fire and all that. Took me a few days to figure out how to purify it to something useful."

"Mm-hmm. I see. Well, what about—"

Before he could finish, a call came from what Ranma assumed was the kitchen. "Pa! Stop badgering the girl and bring her in here! My soup won't stay hot forever!"

Ranma didn't need to be asked twice. Her stomach was already rumbling. She leaped out of bed, spared a moment to stretch, and darted from the room.

The kitchen wasn't too far away, and the scent led her straight to it. What she found when she entered, though, stopped her in her tracks.

Jiraiya was sitting at the table.

As soon as Jiraiya saw the look Ranma was giving him, he jerked back like he'd been slapped, his chair tipping out under him as he did.

Crash!

"I'm sorry! Please don't blow me up again!" By this point, Jiraiya was hiding underneath the table.

Ranma rolled her eyes and pulled out a chair. "Are you gonna take me seriously next time?"

"Yes!"

"Then I'll think about it." Ranma eyed the soup, her good mood slightly soured now. "This doesn't have flies or anything in it, right?"

The second occupant of the kitchen—another old toad that Ranma assumed was Shima—ladled out a bowl full, seemingly lacking in flies. "Of course not, girl! I do know how to cook for humans' delicate stomachs. Now eat."

Lifting up a spoonful to eye suspiciously, Ranma finally shrugged and took a bite. "Hey, this ain't half bad!"

"Not half bad!?" Shima squawked in indignation. "I'll have you know that soup has fed daimyo and Kage alike! No one's ever complained!"

Ranma took another bite, heedless of the offense she was giving. "Remind me to give you one a' my recipes, then." Despite her criticisms, Ranma quickly downed the entire bowl of soup and held it out for more. Shima grudgingly complied.

While Shima stewed, Fukasaku spoke up again. "Well, if you don't mind me asking, Miss Saotome—oh, for—come out from under the table, boy. If you don't mind me asking, is your ability to use that energy a bloodline?"

Ranma blinked. "Eh, sorta? But I can pass it on if I want. I already got three students learnin' the art. 'Ruto, Sas' and Pinky haven't had too much trouble picking it up. They're actually pretty good. Already moved on to the more advanced techniques."

Fukasaku nodded eagerly. "I see, I see. Say, I don't suppose you'd be interested in taking on another student, would you?"

Ranma halted her inhalation of Shima's soup long enough to tilt her head at the old toad. "Eh, maybe? I wasn't really expectin' to take on the three I did. I'd need a good pitch, I guess."

Fukasaku brushed his whiskers, poorly concealed eagerness evident in his eyes. "Hmm, well, what would it take to convince you to take on little Jiraiya here?"

Snkkkr!

Ranma couldn't help the soup spraying from her nose. Shima scoffed and tossed a napkin her way. Ranma wiped herself down, giving Fukasaku a side-eyed look. "You want me to train the perv. The same pervert that's still hiding under the table. Why the hell would I ever do that?"

"Now hear me out," Fukasaku argued, sparing a moment to smack Jiraiya across the head until he got up into his seat. "I know little Jiraiya is a handful, but he's important. Gamamaru, the greatest sage our people have ever known, prophesied that Jiraiya would one day train a student who would either save or destroy the world. It will be Jiraiya's actions that decide which path his student takes. If Jiraiya isn't properly prepared for this challenge, it could mean the end of everything."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Jiraiya asked glumly.

"Quiet, boy." Shima and Fukasaku's answer left Jiraiya in no doubt as to what his answer was.

Ranma tipped her chair back, thinking. "You're serious, ain't ya?" The two toads nodded gravely. "Hmm. Well, I guess. What do I get out of it, though? Besides the whole maybe not getting destroyed thing that might or might not be true?"

"Well, what do you want, girl?" Shima prodded.

"Hmm, to go home?" Ranma scratched her jaw. "Say, does the perv know anything about seals? Fuinjutsu? There's this thing I'd like to try, but I don't really know the more advanced stuff to really do it properly."

"Of course! Little Jiraiya would be more than happy to help you learn fuinjutsu!" Fukasaku eagerly agreed. "Ma and I can help too. We know virtually every seal in existence."

Ranma shrugged. "Then I guess. If the perv actually wants to learn, I mean."

They turned to where Jiraiya sat at the end of the table. He looked stiff as a board. Ranma leaned over to where Shima stood beside her on the table. "What's with him," she whispered. "He looks terrible."

Shima and Fukasaku just snorted humorously.

For his part, Jiraiya just rubbed his shoulder as if in pain, then sighed. "Alright, if you can actually teach me how to use senjutsu like you can, I'll take you on as a student."

Ranma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's the first thing that's gonna go. You wanna learn, check the attitude."

Shima rapped Jiraiya across his head. "You heard the girl. Be a good student, moron!"

Amused, but trying to be serious, Ranma stood and approached her newest student, looking him over. "Well, this'll be the easy part. To learn how to process ki, I'm gonna pump you full of mine. Then I'm gonna open up your chakra. It's like your tenketsu, but more major. You should get the gist of what to do from my memories."

"Wait, what?"

Before Jiraiya could argue any more, Ranma formed a circle with her hands, focused, then loosed a burst of energy at Jiraiya. The perverted sage rocked back, then slumped forward, unconscious.

Ranma leaned over him, checking her handwork. "Yeah, give him a sec, then I'll open up his flows, get him started. Once he's had time to get used to it, I can show him how to use it."

Ranma went back to eating. "Shouldn't take long. Which is good, 'cause I'd like ta get back home. Hana's gotta be worried."

"In that case, why don't you carry Jiraiya into the bedroom," Fukasaku suggested. "He'll be fine here. And we can get you started learning those seals."

Ranma wasn't too opposed, though she was still a little hungry. She grabbed Jiraiya and threw him over her shoulder.

"Wait a second," Shima called. She put a webbed foot up to Jiraiya's forehead. "Fool boy has a fever. Idiot overdid it. Let me get him something cool."

Once Ranma finished, they left Jiraiya in bed, wandering off into the night.

"Say, girl," Fukasaku started, "How would you like to be able to summon us toads like little Jiraiya does? It could make teaching you more convenient."

Ranma's answer was lost to the night. Behind them, within the toad house, the beads of sweat underneath the damp rag on Jiraiya's forehead crystallized.

.

.

.

~o0{O}0o~

.

.

.

"Jiraiya, sir. Sir. Please, sir, wake up. Sir, we need to talk to you. Please." Through the haze of sleep, a voice broke Jiraiya's peace.

"Mmm gw'an," Jiraiya mumbled.

Jiraiya felt like he'd just fought a war, after running a marathon, and then suffered the worst night of sleep he'd ever suffered. Seriously, the nightmares he'd had. Pretty girls everywhere, but they all had her face, and all they were interested in was beating the snot out of him. It was horrible! After all that, he deserved a good long rest.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but we really need to speak with you. Sir."

But this asshole kept bothering him! Jiraiya felt indignation bubble up within him.

"I don't think he's going to wake up." A second voice broke in, almost as serious as the first.

No shit, dumbass.

"Ah, how annoying. I guess I've got no choice. Stand back Inoichi, Hiashi." The third voice sounded more laid-back, if still slightly aggravated. Not that Jiraiya gave a shit.

The voices didn't return, so Jiraiya settled back into sleep.

"Oh, what a wonderful forest spring. Why don't we stop here and take a bath, tee-hee!"

What?

"Oh, you're right. But won't we be exposed to everyone who comes by, tee-hee?"

That … that couldn't be…

"Don't worry, no one will come all the way out here just to look at our buxom, youthful, beautiful—"

"Ladies!" Jiraiya launched himself from bed, right into the arms of the voices.

The voice had a disturbingly manly body. Jiraiya looked up, right into the eyes of the Fourth Hokage's old student. What was his name? Kakashi something?

More importantly, "Aaaaargh! What the hell are you doing!?" Jiraiya leaped as far backward as he could go.

Kakashi's companions—they looked like Hiashi and Inoichi, of the Hyuuga and Yamanaka clan, when did they get so tall?—seemed just as disturbed as Jiraiya was.

"Ah, Hatake, was that really necessary?" Inoichi asked.

Kakashi just did that weird eye smile thing he did when he had his face covered. "It's a secret between brethren who've seen too much. I'm sure you'll keep it quiet, right?" Jeez, even Jiraiya was creeped out by the look on Kakashi's face.

Jiraiya really wasn't in the mood for this. "Hey, now. What's with you brats disturbing my sleep? I was really getting into it!" Well, he was going to, at least. Morning sleep was always better, anyway.

Hiashi stepped forward. "Jiraiya, sir … you are Jiraiya, correct?" For some reason, Hiashi sounded exceedingly unsure of that. Which was bizarre, since he should be better equipped than anyone to identify someone.

"Of course I am. Who else would I be?" Jiraiya was quickly moving from disgusted to grumpy.

Hiashi nodded, as if Jiraiya had confirmed something. "I was afraid of that. Sir, I'm sorry to disturb your, ah, rest, but we have something of a crisis on our hands. The Hokage has evidence that a kami is loose in the village, and, well, given your state, we assume you've run into it."

Jiraiya blinked, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes. Man, he felt really weird for some reason. What did Ranma do to him? Wait… "A kami? Ranma? Hmm, that would explain a few, wait, what's wrong with my voice?"

The three nin looked between themselves, obviously uncomfortable. Kakashi seemed to be the one voted to handle it, as he sighed heavily and stepped forward. "I … really hate to be the one to say this. Really, really hate to be the one, but it seems the kami has … meddled with you?"

"She changed my voice?" Jiraiya was incredulous at that possibility. Why would teaching him senjutsu change his voice?

Kakashi shook his head. "Not quite. How do I put this, Jiraiya, sir? Hmm, welcome to womanhood?"

Jiraiya stared. Kakashi and the other two stared back. Jiraiya lowered his head.

He couldn't see his feet.

Why couldn't he see his feet?

Jiraiya took a deep breath.

In the distance, a murder of crows was disturbed from their morning routine by a blood curdling scream. They flew off, calling their displeasure.

Aho, aho!

~oOo~

This is the most Ranma I've ever written Ranma, I think. The Jiraiya fight was very much what I think of when I think of fights in the original manga(not so much the anime, blegh).

Some dialogue has been borrowed from the Naruto anime. Specifically, I took and reworked Jiraiya's introduction.

Well, there we go. The last half actually only took about a couple days to write(not counting the previous six years, because of course I'm not). I intend to keep writing on this fic, now that I have a purpose, but, as always, no guarantees. In fact, I'm not even going to guarantee that I'll post any further chapters until I finally finish this thing, assuming I do. And I think I'm going to label this and the previous fic as rough drafts 1-2, so people won't get annoyed with me when I inevitably decide to rewrite something. Oh, who am I kidding? No one's left to be annoyed.

I still enjoy writing, even if the past few hundred thousand words never made it onto anything. Hopefully sharing this with you will work as a small apology for not finishing the fic I warned you I never intended to finish. Or maybe you're super mad at me because of this chapter. I guess it's a good thing that all the readers I have left are imaginary.

Oh, there was one thing I wanted to clear up. Reading through my old author's notes, I realized some people might get the idea that I think Naruto isn't very good. In fact, the opposite is true. I think the world Kishimoto created was incredible. Yes, I dislike a number of the characters, especially the main three, but disliking something isn't the same thing as thinking it's bad.

Naruto was created with the demographic of tween aged, Japanese boys in mind, something I couldn't be further from. From that perspective, I realize that much of what I dislike was simply not aimed at me. It doesn't change the fact that I dislike this or that, but it does contextualize it. Just because I think making Tsunade afraid of blood was stupid doesn't mean I think Kishimoto is sexist or something. He was writing for boys, and thus girls took a back seat. Completely understandable.

Likewise, I want to see a story like Naruto or what have you where girls are the heroes. As such, this fic is aimed at a very different demographic. Not everyone has to like or dislike something just because you feel a certain way. Not everything that you dislike is necessarily bad. I wish more people realized that.

Well, I'm off. See you in another six years. (Please don't kill me!)