Yes, peace had truly came to the oft troubled district of Tokyo, and Ranma was not loath to take advantage of this almost unnerving calm. He used the time to build on his blossoming friendship with the other Senshi. And though oft teased by the amorous Minako and sometimes even Makoto, having come out in the open with his confusing personal relationships, they didn’t push him as far as they might another handsome devil. In time, Usagi managed to forgive him for yelling at her the other night, not that the offer of ice cream didn’t help.

Ami was nervous when around him for some time after his link to Ranko was revealed that night, but she eventually warmed up to his charm. Much to Akane’s ire, all of the girls were friendly towards the fairly optimistic young man. Even the often distant Haruka, Michiru, and Hotaru seemed willing to give friendship a shot.

The only cold spots in his vision though were the ones that bothered him most. He still didn’t understand why Rei had acted as she had on that fateful night that had lead to so much trouble. And those daemons the girls seemed to rely on so much! Didn’t they understand what sort of hideous, bloodthirsty beasts they were? And the pedophile after little Usagi-chan! He was at LEAST ten years older than her for crying out loud!

Beyond that, the last of the Senshi was starting to bug him. Every thing he did, she turned the cold shoulder to him. And to make matters worse, he had heard her talking with the daemons the other day!

Then there was Raetheon. And that strange dream he had had the other day. Things were confusing enough as they were. Why did they always have to get worse?!

These were the things that troubled the mind of the young Saotome one fine morning. Nodoka had returned from her trip quite irate two days before, and he was currently hiding out in the rafters to avoid another one of the lectures she had began sprouting not too terribly long after she had gotten over the fact that he really was back.

"Gah." He muttered to himself, as he shifted position from laying on his back to his side. From where he was situated, he could see the hall phone lying on the end table below him. For a moment he debated calling the temple to see how Akane was, then decided against it as he would probably have to talk to Rei or his grandfather.

He had just decided to go over personally and see how Akane was doing when the phone shrilled below. Startled from the noise, he nearly came crashing down from his perch. At the last second though, he managed to hook his feet around the rafter and swing down to just within reach of the source of the aggravating noise.

Flipping the phone up from its cradle, he caught it and nestled in between his shoulder and his ear as he reached for the base.

"Moshi moshi." He muttered distractedly into the receiver. "Saotome Ranma desu."

"Ranma-san?" Came the reply, distorted from its travel over the copper wires of the lines. "This is Haruka."

"Hai, Haruka-san." Ranma answered as he finally managed to grab the base and swing back up into the rafters. "What’s up?"

"Well, you know that new museum opening across from that mall Usagi and the others seem to like so much?"

"Ah.. I think I’ve heard of that one. Um, the Hakubutsukan no Bugei, right?"

There was a brief burst of muffled laughter and the sound of Haruka talking to someone, probably Michiru, off the line for a moment, then she was back. "We thought you’d know about that one, given your past and all."

"Well, um, okay. What about it?"

"Michiru and I are going to be playing at the opening tomorrow. There’s only one problem."

"Eh? What’s that?"

"The guy who usually helps us get everything set up is sick. Mono, from what he told Michiru."

"Oh, man. That’s a tough break."

"You’re telling me. With Chikara in the hospital, we don’t have any one to help. None of the girls really want to be in a museum."

"What about Ami-chan?"

"Ami-chan isn’t very comfortable in the atmosphere of that particular museum."

"Oh. Gee. That’s not good, is it?"

"No. Cause now we’re getting desperate."

"Figures. No one calls me until they’re desperate."

"Ranma-san..."

"The c-cats aren’t gonna be there, are they?"

"No."

"Then you just got yourself a roady."

"Roady?"

"Something I picked up somewhere. It means someone who helps a band move stuff and set up. At least, I think it does."

"Well... that’s great. See you tomorrow then."

"What time?"

"6:00."

"Alright."

With that, the receiver was settled back in it’s cradle and the entire operation was carefully lowered back on to the table.

Ten minutes later, Ranma was walking out the gates on his way to the temple.

***********

After three minutes of continuous repetition, the annoying tapping sound was enough to drag even Akane out of the depths of her slumber. Storming over to the window, she threw it open with enough force to cause the wooden storm shutters rebound twice off of the side of the building.

"What?!" she demanded in an angry hiss once she had finally gotten the window all of the way open.

"Akane! Calm down! It’s just me!" Ranma whispered back from his position outside the window.

"And you can’t come like a normal person because?" Akane asked, stepping back to allow him to swing inside.

Ranma favored her with a particularly exasperated look in response to the rather impertinent question. "Well, let’s see... There’s the fact that it’s after twenty two... oh, wait. Gee, you think maybe it’s because I don’t want to have to talk to Rei, the peusdo-rocker boy, or Grandfather?"

Akane controlled her temper with a visible effort. "You don’t have to be a jerk about it! I just asked! If you’re going to be that way about it, why didn’t you just come when they were out earlier?!"

"And I would know that they were out how exactly?"

"There’s this thing called a telephone, you know. I hear they’re all the rage lately." Akane replied sarcastically, spinning around to face away from him.

"Would you rather I didn’t come over at all?" Ranma countered, staring holes into her back.

"Would you rather I didn’t come here at all?" Akane offered, not even bothering to turn around to see the reaction her off-hand comment was causing.

"Yes! Yes, all right! I told you that I’d never lie to you! So, yes! I would so much prefer that you had stayed in Nerima where you were SAFE!" Ranma finally exploded. Though his voice and demeanor were fierce, his stormy-blue eyes told an entirely different story altogether.

There was a lengthy pause that stretched between the two inhabitants of the room. Then Akane’s shoulders shuddered slightly, once, then again. Ranma stretched out a hand, his expression troubled. Then, before he could do anything more, she spun about, tears sparkling on her face.

"You don’t care about me at all, do you?!" She sobbed. "I’m just another silly girl, throwing myself at you like always, isn’t that right?! Just another silly girl who can’t protect herself! An ugly, mannish FREAK!"

"Akane, that’s not what I meant!" Ranma’s voice cracked mid-range as he continued to reach towards her.

She smashed his hand away. "Don’t touch me! I don’t want your pity!"

"Akane..." he tried again, wincing as her words reached his ears.

"Dammit, Ranma! All I wanted..." her voice trailed off slightly as she looked towards the ground. "All I ever wanted was... was..." she looked up at him, thin, wet trails marking her cheeks. "you to care for me." She whispered, looking down again. "I should have known that someone like you could never care for a freak like me. I’m just damaged goods now."

"Dammit, Akane! Listen to me!" He hissed, grabbing her shoulder with one hand and using the other to tilt her face up to meet his gaze, ignoring the shudder that went through her body at his touch. "Listen to me, okay? Just this once?" He whispered, wiping the trails of tears from her face with a gentle thumb. She nodded once, fighting the urge to tear away from him and hide in the corner. "You are not ugly. Do you hear me? You’re not ugly and your not a ‘mannish freak’!"

She directed her reddened face to his under her own power this time. "But... but you always call me ‘uncute’.. and.. and ‘unsexy’ and a tomboy..."

"Akane, don’t take this the wrong way, but you are uncute. Hey! I told you not to take it the wrong way! Dammit!" He stormed at the sudden crestfallen expression that covered her face. "Hell. Look at me, okay? When you look at me, what do you see? And don’t let what you think about me mix things up, okay?"

She looked confused for a moment then began stumbling into a basic description of his appearance, gaining confidence as she continued. "Um... unruly, long raven hair tied back in a rough braid? Sapphire eyes set not too far apart. But not to close together, either! Under flaring eyebrows. A long, imperial nose set over full red lips," she blushed rather darkly at that, "and a strong chin. High cheekbones that colour only lightly when you’re embarrassed. Wide shoulders that support arms that ripple with muscles and long fingered, delicate hands. A deep chest signaling great endurance. Taut abdominal muscles." Another blush, darker if possible. "A narrow waist connecting to powerful legs and graceful feet. I see a ... man. A very ... handsome ... man." Her words fell back to their original stumbling pace at the end and she redirected her gaze back to the floor, confused as to how that particular dug out confession would contribute to the argument Ranma seemed to be trying to make.

Ranma, for his part, was blushing a bit himself, though the relative darkness hid the ‘light colour’ fairly well. "Right. You said handsome, right? Not cute? Handsome?"

She nodded, embarrassed that he was pressing for the compliment.

"Don’t you see, Akane? That’s what I mean. I’m not cute. I am totally uncute. In fact, I don’t know anyone who would describe me as cute!"

She looked up at him slowly, comprehension slowly dawning in her brown eyes.

"Akane, you are my friend. Really. Sometimes I think you’re the best friend I have. And you might be an uncute tomboy, but is that really such a bad thing to be? You’re not a freak, Akane. If anything, I’m the one who’s earned that title. I mean, at least, you being an uncute tomboy is natural, I wasn’t meant to be one but a bit of cool water and BANG!"

A small giggle escaped her lips. Ranma smiled down at her softly in response.

"That’s the Akane I know. Don’t get yourself in such a twist next time, okay?" He asked.

Then all joviality was gone as a serious expression contorted her expression. "Then why did you say that you never wanted me to come here?"

He sighed in exasperation. He had hoped that she had forgotten about that. Placing both hands on her shoulders this time noticing the shudder with concern, he gazed down into her eyes with an earnest expression on his face. "I didn’t want you to come, Akane. That’s why. Dammit, Akane, why do you think I left you there?!"

"Because Auntie Nodoka made you?"

"Akane, look at me. Do you really think I would let that work if I didn’t want it to?"

She shrugged weakly. She actually didn’t know. And she was wearing herself out trying to keep from running from him. As it was she had to keep telling herself that it was only Ranma and he wouldn’t ever hurt her.

"Akane." His tone was rather disapproving, as if he expected better somehow. "You should know me better than that by now."

"Sorry." She smiled weakly in response.

"But anyway. I left because it was getting to be too damn dangerous for you to be around me." His eyes squeezed shut against the pain of memory. "For God’s sake, Akane! Saffron nearly killed you! Just because of me! It was my fault you almost died! You understand me? MY FAULT! And the wedding! Don’t even get me started on that!" He let his hands drop from her shoulders and turned away.

"Ranma..." She didn’t reach out as he had. Instead, she rubbed at her arms and hugged herself and looked to the ground.

"And now this." He sighed, glancing back over his shoulder at her, then back down at the ground as he saw that she wasn’t even trying to reach out to him. "I’m supposed to protect you, Akane. But I went and let this happen." He shoved a hand roughly though his hair. "I’m a failure. I’m just a screwed-up little joke. Go back to Nerima, Akane. I can’t protect you. So stay away from me. It’ll be safer for you."

Akane glared at his back and her lips compressed into a thin line of annoyance and determination. Then, for the first time since he had come in, she moved from her spot. Ranma was abruptly confronted with the sight of a sincere Akane popping up in his line of vision.

"Ranma, I listened to you. Now it’s your turn." He tried to turn his head away, but her hands, rough and callused from years of slamming them through concrete, appeared on either side of his face and forced him to look at her. He could feel the way she was trembling through the pressure on the sides of his face and his expression slowly grew more and more worried. "You. Are. Not. A. Failure. Do you understand me? You’re not a failure! You protected me! Look! I’m still alive! I’m all in one piece!"

"Not one piece." Was his sullen answer as his eyes twisted away from looking at her.

Her eyes narrowed. "You blame yourself for that?! Damn you, Saotome Ranma! You weren’t even there! Or are you blaming yourself because that bastard looked like you?! Is that it?!"

"That’s not it and you know it!" Suddenly his eyes were boring holes into her with the blazing fury behind them. His hands reached up and grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands from his face with surprising force. "I should have been there! I was supposed to protect you!"

"What, were you in on it?! Did you help him plan how to rape me?! Is that it?! God! It must be! Why the hell didn’t I see it?! After all your precious Ranko led me to the son-of-a-bitch!" She raged, forcing herself to fight her terror, trying to free her arms to beat at his chest.

"It wasn’t her fault, dammit! She didn’t want to hurt you and you know it! Something happened to her down there and I plan on finding out what it is! But until I do, you gotta realize that that wasn’t her fault!"

"I don’t care how much she didn’t want to hurt me! I was violated by that bastard! HE STOLE MY HUSBAND’S GIFT! He stole it from me, Ranma." Suddenly, all of the fight was gone, and she just hung limply from his grasp. "He looked so like you... and that was the worst part of all." He gently lowered his arms until she was sitting upon the floor and released her wrists. "It... it was like it was you..." tears formed and trickled down her face, "like you were the one hurting me... like you were enjoying hurting me..." she sobbed, choking on her words.

"Akane, I’d never hurt you! I’d never do that to you! Never!" He replied, sinking to his knees beside her.

She looked up and smiled sadly. "I know that, Ranma. Really I do. But he was so like you... and I so wanted you to come and take me away... but you never came... never came until it was too late..."

Ranma’s vision blurred oddly, but he spoke with a clear voice. "I tried to get there, Akane. I wanted to take you from him. Ranko told me what she had done. She was ready to destroy herself because of it. I tried so hard! But I failed you! I failed you, Akane."

"You did not! You came, Ranma! You came! Like you always do! Maybe I got hurt, but you came! You fought for me! You protected me! I’m here! I’m alive! Because of you!"

"You came here because of me. You’re hurt because of me. Because of me! It’s my fault you’re even here! And now it’s my fault that you’re scared of me."

"I’m not scared of you."

He reached out and grasped her wrist, holding it up to her face and forcing her to acknowledge her trembling hand. "I’m not blind, Akane. I can see you shaking every time I touch you or you touch me. I know fear, Akane. And I see it all over you whenever I’m around. You’re putting that bastard and me together in your mind. I know you can’t help it, but it still hurts."

"Ranma..."

"Akane. Don’t lie to me, okay? If you’re scared, just tell me. I’ll leave you alone. I’ll give you all the time and space you need. Whatever you need. Just don’t lie to me." Ranma said, releasing her wrist and standing.

As he stepped towards the window and prepared to leave, she clambered up to her knees and grabbed his wrist. When he looked back at her, she spoke.

"Don’t go. I don’t want you to leave." She said softly, climbing all the way to her feet. "I came because I felt that I needed to be with you." She took at slow step forward, coming up to face him. "I came because I wanted to. Because I wanted to help. I won’t lie to you anymore, alright, Ranma? Just don’t go." She finished, locking gazes with him.

"I’ll give you whatever you need. Do whatever you need me to so that you can be comfortable around me again." He murmured, staring into her eyes.

"What I want... what I need... is for you to be who you are. I need you to be you. That’s all." She closed the distance between them, placing her free hand upon the cloth of the red Chinese shirt covering his chest. Looking down at her hand, she continued. "I came here because of you, it’s true." She looked back up at him. "But, I wasn’t safer with you not there. I was in more danger than ever." At his puzzled, disbelieving expression, she elaborated. "I was in danger from myself. I... I don’t want to be without you." She whispered, as she released his wrist and reached up to brush at his wild hair.

At some point, her gently questing fingers managed to get themselves woven tightly into his braid. But he didn’t bother to help her untangle her fingers from his hair. Instead, he leaned down, and softly, tentatively allowed his lips to brush against hers.

Her eyes slid shut against the screams in her head saying that it was Raetheon not Ranma and that he was going to hurt her again. She countered with the fact that Raetheon was in no way as gentle as Ranma and that Ranma would never hurt her. He promised. He promised to protect her.

***********

Ranma awoke in a very familiar place. Dense banks of fog pressed in on him from all sides. A massive blank obsidian wall stood before him. Realizing where he was, he slammed his head against the unyielding stone in a futile gesture of helplessness.

"Well, gee, that’s sure using your head."

Ranma spun about, searching every which way to find the crimson headed seductress. Yet, nothing materialized from the fog to meet his searching gaze.

"Up here, dummy."

He gazed upwards, only to spot a ledge some fifteen to twenty feet above him in a location where there had been nothing just moments before. A smirking red-head looked down upon him lazily from her perch.

"Well, hello there! So good of you to finally find me." She giggled, reaching forwards and flipping down to stand before him.

"You’re not Ranko." Ranma stated as calmly as a man in his position could.

"Well, of course I am! You know anyone else with a body like mine?" she pouted, wrapping her arms about his neck.

"You know what I mean. I know about Ranko. She’s awake now. You can’t fool me any longer." Ranma replied, removing her arms from his neck and letting them drop to her sides.

The smaller woman sighed, her self-confident smirk fading away to be replaced by a small frown. "I am Ranko, you know. Just not the same part. Everyone has two parts of a soul. One part which dies when the body expires, and one that lives on. I’m the part of Ranko that died years ago. I got to grow up. She didn’t. Sometimes, I really envy her."

"So you’re saying that the both of you are Ranko?"

"Well, we were both Ranko, at any rate. She’s more Ranko now then I am, to be honest. After all, she’s still alive." Then she stopped, took a deep breath, and smiled up at him. "But, let’s not dwell on the past shall we? Have you managed to delve into the mysteries of culture yet?"

Ranma shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs that her abrupt change in topic had caused. "Huh?! I mean, no. I didn’t even get what you said the first time!"

"Culture, Ranma. You know, places like libraries, concert halls, museums... culture!" She explained, gesturing about with exasperation.

"Well, I’m supposed to be going to a museum tomorrow..." He offered.

"It’s a start. When are you supposed to go?"

"6:00."

"6:00?!"

"Yeah, why?"

"Shit! It’s already 5:15! You’ve overslept!"

Then everything went black.

***********

Ranma leapt wildly from the temple wall and dashed home for a change of close. Mere minutes later, he was racing towards the museum and Haruka and Michiru.

***********

As of 5:49, the trio had finally managed to finish getting everything set up. Haruka had already changed into her tux and Michiru was off getting changed into her dress. Ranma was sprawled along the edge of the stage near where Haruka sat upon the piano bench.

"Ranma-san?"

"You could just call me Ranma, you know."

Haruka smiled wryly at the remark, then started again. "Alright then. Ranma."

"What’s up?" he asked, bending his head back so he could look at her from his prone position.

"You know, there’s nothing more for you to do. You could go and look around the museum if you’d like."

Ranma redirected his gaze back towards the ceiling for a few minutes as he thought about it. Then he nodded and pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"Actually, I’ve heard that I needed to get a bit of culture so I guess I’ll take you up on that. When do you need me back here?"

"Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be able to find you." Haruka replied.

"Thanks. I’ll see you then." And Ranma hopped down off the stage and vanished into the dimly lit halls of the Hakubutsukan no Bugei.

***********

He had been wandering through the convoluted passages of the museum for some time. Several parts of the museum still showed traces of the construction that had been occurring for the past several months. There were still partially disassembled wooden crates tucked away in corners here and there, straw and foam pellets spilling out at random.

However, despite the tiny bits of chaos scattered about, he soon found himself in an area that was obviously not ready to be opened to the public. Curious, he continued in his wanderings, ignoring the signs hanging from the wall warning danger. Soon he was following the echoing sounds of people busily scurrying about behind closed doors.

It was just such a door that he came to in time. A questing toe nudged it gently, sending it swinging open on silent hinges. The vision that opened up before his eyes was startling.

It wasn’t as if he wasn’t expecting something like what he saw. Quite the contrary, really. It was more like, he hadn’t been expecting the way in which it had been constructed.

There, hanging along the northern wall were graceful tiers of naginata arrayed on carefully crafted racks, protected from inquisitorial hands behind Plexiglas panels. The eastern wall held cases of nunchuku and sai. All along the western wall were rows and rows of flails and axes alongside of bows and arrows. The last wall, the southern wall, in which was set the door he peered through was a single case that ran the entire length of the wall from floor to ceiling. Inside of the case were almost innumerable amounts of swords and daggers of various lengths and age.

But the most striking visage of all was located in the direct center of the room. There a single pedestal of pure white marble rose from the black granite floor. In an unusual stand that held the blade hilt upright instead of the traditional way, was an uniquely hilted katana. Instead of a traditional tsuka for such an ancient tachi, this Koto held a European hilt atop the flawless folded and forged blade. A shira-saya lay beneath in on the top of the pedestal. The entire set-up was covered by a Plexiglas cube.

Ranma stared at the tachi for some time. Then he blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Blinked again. He took a step back to look for the plaque that was usually right out side the doorway naming the room, but it hadn’t been put up yet. He finally stepped all of the way into the room and crossed until he was right beside the center case.

Placing one hand upon the case he stared intently at the sword.

"That’s wrong." He whispered to himself. "The blade is wrong."

"You’re right."

The sudden, new voice startled him into spinning around to stare at the man who had intruded on his privacy.

He was tall, skinny, sunburnt, and definitely gajin. His blonde hair hung down in his green eyes and spiked out wildly everywhere else. The skin on his long aquiline nose was peeling badly under his wire rimmed glasses. His black dress shirt was gray with dust from unpacking and setting things up. Loose tan pants hung loosely down over his worn brown loafers.

He held out his hand as a gesture of friendship. "I’m Professor Passhem. Well, Milo Passhem at any rate. Archeologist. And who might you be?"

Ranma shrugged as he accepted the grasp. "I’m Saotome Ranma, heir of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts."

"A resident Master? Visiting my display? How gratifying!"

"I’m just wandering through here, really."

"That’s alright! I saw you stopping to look at the Sword of the First Emperor and thought I might speak to you." Milo replied as way of explanation. "You’re right about the blade. It’s totally wrong for it. I was very surprised to find that blade so near to a European style hilt at the dig."

"That’s not what I meant." Ranma sounded annoyed.

Milo looked puzzled. "Well, then what did you mean?"

"I meant that," he waved back at the blade, "That hilt shouldn’t have a blade. And that blade is wrong."

"And what are your credentials? What school did you graduate from? I certainly haven’t heard of you in any of my trade publications." Milo was beginning to get annoyed.

"I’m still in high school. I haven’t graduated from anywhere!"

"Then I definitely think I know quite a bit more than you do about whether or not that hilt and that blade belong together!"

"Whatever."

Ranma was finally fed up and, with one last look at the encased sword, he stormed out of the room.

Behind him, Professor Milo Passhem’s angry expression faded away into a definitely evil smile.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Saotome. Please feel assured that we will be meeting again." He murmured before fading away into the shadows of the room.

***********

"Hey, you’re back early!" Haruka called, as Ranma stormed into the room.

"Had a problem with a idiot." He explained as he hopped up on the stage.

"Well, we were just about to get started if you want to watch." Michiru offered.

"Sure. Anything to get my mind off of that annoying gajin." Ranma replied, hopping down and wandering over to take a seat at the back.

***********

The music was beautiful and Ranma allowed himself to be lost in it. And in being lost in the music, it allowed another to speak to him.

***********

He found himself led to a simple glade in the middle of a forest somewhere. A tiny stream trickled through the center past a large granite boulder which sat in the center. A crudely made hut crouched on the edge of surrounding forest.

He turned about slowly, taking in his surroundings with a sort of bemusement brought about by the music which had led him there. He had rotated himself at least five times before he realized that he had an audience for his antics. A soft-faced, little, red-headed girl perched atop the boulder by the spring. Bright blue eyes peeked out from a dirt stained face under a ragged mass of matted red hair.

She was dressed in a simple shift made of poorly tanned leather and pounded tree-bark. A rough hooded cloak made of rawhide draped her thin shoulders, the hair still remaining upon it and sticking out every which way in ragged patches. A long stick with a clumsy point made a rude spear that sat beside her, leaning against the side of the boulder, the butt digging into the ground. She toyed with the tip of her spear as she smiled shyly at him.

He stopped and gazed at her. Slowly memory and recognition dawned within his mind. This little waif was very familiar to him.

"I know you." He whispered.

She nodded. "You named me."

"I called you Kodomo no Mori."

"At first. But I’m not called Moriko, that just doesn’t fit me."

"There was a fight." He murmured.

"Yes. There was. You helped me avenge my family."

"Then, coming back..."

"Your friend came to talk to you."

"And I didn’t call you Kodomo no Mori. I called you... Kodomo no.. Ran."

"That’s right. But your friend thought it was too long."

"I remember. He shortened it. He called you Ran.. ko. Um.. you... you’re Ranko aren’t you. The real one."

She smiled and hopped down off of her boulder. Skipping over to him she held her arms out and he picked her up. "That’s right! I’m so glad you remember!" She snuggled up against him. "You were my first friend..."

"I remember. And you were my friend as well. You never cared about who I was. You didn’t care that I was the Phoenix Prince. I was just your friend." He murmured, walking over and sitting down on the boulder. "You used to live here, didn’t you."

"A long time ago." She whispered. "Before I met you."

"You live in me, don’t you. Just like the other Ranko does."

"She’s not in you. She can talk to you, but she’s not part of you. Just like Shima. He’s not part of you."

"I don’t understand."

"That’s okay." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "You don’t have too, yet."

She looked off into the distance suddenly and nodded. "The spirits here say that it’s time for you to go back."

"I’ll miss you." He muttered, blushing lightly.

"You don’t have to, silly! I’m always with you."

And she brushed her lips against his cheek once more before she and everything around him faded back into the concert hall.

***********

It took a good while before everything was back at Haruka and Michiru’s home, but they did it. As usual, Setsuna was no where to be found. According to Hotaru, she had left only seconds before the trio had gotten into the building.

When Hotaru had first spotted Ranma walking in the door unburdened, she raced over and glomped onto his waist. He chuckled nervously as he brushed her hair. Michiru just smiled knowingly at him and Haruka just laughed out right.

"Hey there, Hotaru-chan."

"Hi, Ranma-san!" she crowed, somehow tightening her grip.

He let out a low grunt before continuing speaking. "That’s a strong grip you got there, Hotaru-chan... mind letting up a bit so I can sit down?" He asked.

She released him, and he was allowed to find a seat, but as soon as he had managed to settle himself in it, she had clambered into his lap. He looked at Haruka and Michiru pleadingly, but they just smiled and shook their heads. So, he just put up with it.

Besides, she spent a good portion of the time sick, so he was actually pleased to see her doing so well. Hotaru was just happy to have her favorite teacher visiting her. Which is why Michiru had invited him in for tea.

***********

Time passed quickly, as it always did in pleasant company, and soon Ranma found himself walking quietly down the road to his home, and sleep.

***********

Author’s Notes: I’ve been asked by my pre-readers for a definition, so here it is.

Hakubutsukan no Bugei: Hakubutsukan = Museum

Bugei = Martial Arts

Thus: Hakubutsukan no Bugei = Museum of Martial Arts

Or: Martial Arts’ Museum

To the best of my knowledge, it doesn’t exist.