Flushed with success at having managed to finish and
release a story, I press my luck by trying to do two in
a single week. This one is less polished than my previous
one, and has at least one significant problem I would
appreciate some comments on. Also, I con't decide if I
like it, or if it's unbearably pretentious and ludicrously
overwritten. Maybe both are true.

    If this was inspired by anything, it came from my
rereading "The King of Elfland's Daughter" in connection
with another story I'm writing. Let me note that, although
it's a first person narrative, it's not a self-insertion
fic. The narrator is a Ranmaverse character.

    The problem is that most of the regular characters
are mentioned as being present, but do absolutely nothing
in the story. This is perhaps understandable in the light
of the events herein, and the fact that the narrator doesn't
really know most of them, but still bothers me. I could
come up with bits for each of them, but I fear it would
come off feeling rather forced. I could leave most of them
out of the big fight scene, but I really feel they should
all be present at the funeral. Let me know what you think.

    Oh yes, the funeral. There are a couple of things I
should warn you about in this story. First, a major
character dies, although it's not really a darkfic. There
are passages of purple prose and soppy sentimentality
ahead. There are quotes from Shakespeare, Milton, and Lord
Byron in here. And it has one of my soon-to-be-trademark
ambiguous endings. If any of these present a problem for
you, consult medical advice before proceeding further.

    Finally, I'm sure some, probably most, of you will
object that the tone and the style of the narration seems
out of character for the person telling the story. In my
defense I will make three points. First, the story is
being written a year after the events portrayed herein,
a year that has seen many changes in the narrator. Second,
it is not unknown for someone to possess a more florid
writing style than that which he is accustomed to employ
while speaking. I myself have this selfsame quirk, and I
was even worse in high school, a time when I resembled the
narrator to an uncomfortable degree. Finally, I wanted
to write the story this way, and this is the way the idea
originally came to me. So there.

    Praises be to the great Rumiko Takahashi.


                     Elegy for a Golden Youth

    As I sit down to write these words, it has been a full year since
the events of which I shall tell. At the time, I would never have
thought of such a thing. The pain was too new, too fresh; and what need
could there be to write down a record of a time that I could never
forget? And yet the memories have begun to fade. Even my fiancee has
nearly forgotten the strange happenings of that time, happenings in
which she was much more closely involved than I. From my conversations
with others at school it seems that I am the last person left who still
remembers what occurred. I am writing this in the hope that it may
serve, in future, as a reminder of those days, should I also chance
to forget, and, in some measure, to fulfill Ranma's last command to
me. Between this tale, and the plan I have initiated, I can only trust
that somehow, wherever they are, they will know that someone remembers
them.

    The school day had not yet begun, and Ranma was fighting Tatewaki
Kuno again. Some of us wondered why Kuno kept on pursuing his twin
obsessions, despite all the evidence that neither of them wanted
him. It was often attributed to the dementia apparently endemic to the
Kuno family, and yet.... We should have known that was too facile an
explanation. Look at the way we had all been obsessed with Akane. So
many boys hurling themselves into futile combat, day after day, seeking
the affections of one who was clearly uninterested in us, and unlikely,
had we stopped to think on it, to look kindly on those who sought to lay
violent hands upon her. Of course, we didn't stop to think. Instead, a
legion of boys assaulted her, day after day, until Ranma came.

    When Ranma came, everything changed. In a matter of days, the boys
stopped their recurring attacks. They said it was because they knew they
had no chance against Ranma, but those words rang rather hollow. They
had had no chance against Akane either, yet that had not stopped them. I
think it was rather that everyone recognized that, in Ranma, Akane had
finally met her match, in all senses of the word. I say everyone, but
of course, there were a few, more stubborn than the rest, who persisted
in yearning after her. One was Kuno. Another, I must confess, was I
myself. I cannot condemn Tatewaki, when I myself was guilty of the same
folly. Indeed, mine was greater. There was no chance at all that I
could ever defeat Ranma, no chance that I could ever do anything to win
Akane's regard, and in my more lucid moments I knew that. Those moments,
however, were rather rare. Ah well. If you didn't know Akane, you'll
never really understand. There was something about her, some spark,
impossible to define, and impossible to resist.

    That spark burned in Ranma too, and he had his full share of
admirers, both male and female; but his case was different. You could
admire him, you could be his friend, but you couldn't cross over into
his world. He seemed - unattainable, while Akane - we all knew Akane. We
had grown up with her. It was difficult for some of us to accept the
fact that, once she entered Ranma's orbit, she was lost to us, like a
photon crossing the event horizon of a black hole.

    But I digress. Ranma fought Kuno, and the fight ended as those
fights always did. Before the victorious Ranma could rejoin Akane
and enter the school, a voice came from the gateway into the
schoolyard. "Boy! You with the pigtail! What is your name?"

    Ranma turned. "I'm Ranma Saotome, if it's any of your business. Who
are you?"

    The speaker stepped forward from the shadow of the arch into the
sunlit yard. When we saw him clearly, we all fell back a pace or two. He
was of middling height, dressed in ornately embroidered Chinese robes,
a rather nondescript man, save for two features: his hair, which was as
red as fire; and his eyes, which WERE fire - he had no eyeballs, just
two holes in his face in which lurid flames danced and flickered. I
might have thought the waves of heat that seemed to pour off him nothing
more than illusion, until I saw the grass shriveling and dying around
him. His voice crackling, the stranger said, "I am one who has come to
challenge you, Ranma. That is all you need to know."

    Ranma too had stepped back at his first glimpse, but his
discomfiture was only momentary. "I don't know who the hell you are, or
what, but if you want a fight, you got it. I'll meet you after school;
you name the place."

    The stranger smiled. "No need for you to waste your time in the
classroom, my boy. You're going to need the rest of the time available
to you to put your affairs in order and say your good-byes. Don't worry,
I'll see to it that you're excused from school."  With those words, the
stranger pursed his lips, then breathed out a huge ball of fire that
flew toward the school, barely missing Ranma as he grabbed Akane and
leaped aside, and smashed into the building. Instantly the school fire
alarms went off, and people scrambled to evacuate the edifice, which
was rapidly engulfed in flames. Fortunately, most of the students, and
teachers too for that matter, had been outside watching the fight, so it
seemed likely there would be few or no casualties. Indeed, that later
turned out to be the case.

    Those of us in the yard weren't worrying about that then. Our
eyes were glued to the laughing stranger who had so easily ignited
the conflagration. He stood, admiring his handiwork for a moment,
then looked at Ranma. "Meet me in the grassy field that lies in the
direction of the sunset. When the solar disk reaches its zenith, I will
be there to kill you. Let me warn you: if I have to hunt you down,
I will kill everyone in my path, everyone in this city if need be,
until you face me. Until then." His form shimmered, and changed, into
a vast, scaled, bat-winged apparition more than fifty feet long. I've
seen representations of dragons that made them look benevolent, or
comical, or simply ugly. Nothing I had ever seen had prepared me for
the terrifying sight before me. It was a great, winged predator, with
cruel claws digging deep gouges in the sidewalk and gleaming fangs,
and eyes agleam with a cold, inhuman intelligence. To a creature like
this, humans must be simply a lower life form, mere animals. If he took
our form, it was simply to mock us. The heat that emanated from him
increased tenfold, until it felt as if we were standing next to a blast
furnace. The dragon flapped its wings, and lifted into the sky.

    Everyone stared as the reptilian horror dwindled into the
distance; then, as one, all eyes swiveled to the pig-tailed boy in our
midst. Akane seemed the only one capable of speech. "Ranma, what was -
was - THAT about?"

    "I DON'T KNOW!" the harassed teen cried out. "I ain't never seen
anything like that in my life!"

    "What are we going to do?" Akane asked, her voice trembling
slightly.

    Ranma, his face as pale as hers, fought to master himself. The sound
of approaching sirens seemed to help him regain his focus. "First thing,
we gotta make sure everybody's out of the school. Then," he paused, "I
guess we better head to the Nekohanten."

    I could tell that Akane was upset when she made no reference at all
to Ranma's desire to see Shampoo. When the fire fighters arrived and
took over, the two of them ran off to the Chinese restaurant run by
Cologne, the Amazon matriarch. I followed after.

    Why did I go? I'm not sure I can answer that. I wasn't part of the
inner circle, not even as much as Tatewaki was. I had been involved a
handful of times, always with embarrassing results, and had even been
lunatic enough to challenge Ranma once; the outcome had been quite
painful, and yet Ranma afterwards accorded me more respect than he ever
had before. Everyone else in the class thought my attempt to use the War
Suit an act of complete idiocy, especially not reading the fine print
beforehand. In Ranma's eyes, the fact that I was willing to put myself
on the line to achieve my revenge gained me more stature than almost
anything else I could have done. Perhaps, then, it was an unexpressed
desire to live up in some fashion to the regard he had shown me that
prompted me. Perhaps it was simply idle curiosity. At all events, I
followed.

    By the time I got there, Ranma and Akane had already told Cologne
what happened. As there were no customers at this hour of the morning,
Shampoo and Mousse were listening as well, both obviously concerned. The
lines of worry engraved on Cologne's forehead stood out even on her
wrinkled face as she said, "You seemed to have attracted the notice
of one of the less benign dragons. The first thing we need to do,
son-in-law, is to determine which dragon has become your enemy. We may
then be able to learn why, and more importantly, how you may defend
yourself. Can either of you remember any more details that you haven't
told me? Perhaps the exact characters embroidered on his robes?"

    As Ranma and Akane both shook their heads, I raised a diffident
hand, perhaps forgetting for a moment that I wasn't in class. "I
recognized some of them, Cologne, uh, ma'am."

    Cologne's eyes fixed on me, as she asked sharply, "And who are you,
young man?"

    Before I could speak, Ranma interjected, "That's Hikaru
Gosunkugi. He's in our class. What's up, Gos?"

    I cleared my throat and said again, "I recognized some of the
signs. I've, ah, studied magic for a while," I didn't see any need
to mention my singular lack of success, "and I've encountered them
before. Others were at least similar to some that I know."

    "Then tell me everything you recall of them."

    After I had complied, she frowned. "From what I remember, that
should be the Dragon of the Valley of Twilight. He's very powerful,
but has little to do with humanity. He's not actively hostile, but not
at all sympathetic either. I seem to recollect that he does leave his
valley every few centuries to kill a selected enemy, but I can't imagine
why he would have chosen you."

    Ranma's brow furrowed as he said, "I don't know. It's probably Pop's
fault somehow. I'll have to beat it out of him. So's there any way to
fight this thing? I ain't felt heat like that except when I fought
Saffron, and there at least I had the Gekkajan to protect me. Man, I
could really -" his voice broke off as he caught sight of the horror
spreading across Cologne's features. "What is it?"

    "Ancestors, no! Let me be wrong about this," she groaned, in a tone
freighted with dread, and hurried from the room, leaving us staring at
each other in confusion.

    After a few moments, Shampoo scampered over to Ranma and threw
herself into his lap. "Don't worry, airen. Great- grandmother find
answer," she said with false cheerfulness, as if she were trying to
convince herself. "And Shampoo fight with you."

    A muscle in Akane's cheek twitched, but it was Mousse who
reacted first "No, Shampoo!" he cried, springing to his feet. "You
can't. You'll be killed!"

    Shampoo gazed back at him coldly. "Shampoo Amazon warrior, not
child. Amazon not hide under bed when husband in danger."

    Before Mousse could find the words to respond, Ranma spoke up
somberly. "Go sit down, Shampoo. I don't need this right now." Shampoo's
face fell. I recalled that something of a rift had sprung up after she
and Ukyo had blown up Ranma and Akane's abortive wedding. Obviously
that rift had not yet healed. After Shampoo reluctantly resumed her
seat, Ranma continued, "He's right, Shampoo. You didn't see this
thing. Anybody gets hit by one of those fireballs is gonna be dead. This
thing wants me for some reason, but I ain't gonna let anyone else get
killed over this."

    Forgetting her pique, Akane said hotly, "You can't be serious. You
can't face something like this alone. You've got to have help."

    "Son-in-law is correct," Cologne broke in, coming back into
the room carrying a torn and dusty scroll. "He is the only one who
stands a chance." She sat down across the table from Ranma and looked
at him silently for a time, a variety of emotions warring on her
countenance. Finally she said sadly, "I'm sorry, Ranma. My foolishness
has brought this danger upon you."

    "What do you mean?"

    She dropped her gaze to the table, unable to meet his eyes any
longer. "I never heard the full story of your fight against Saffron,"
she began obliquely. "You mentioned using the Gekkajan against
Saffron. Did you at any time use the power of the Kinjakan?"

    "Yeah," he said slowly. "I had it for a while until Kiima used the
Akaneniichuan to disguise herself and stole it back. Why?"

    "And were you at any time exposed to the water of Jusendo, before it
had reached the springs at Jusenkyo," she persisted.

    Ranma paused, and replied, "Yeah. After I beat Saffron, I smashed
the Dragon Tap so I could use the water to cure Akane, and both of us
got wet."

    Cologne closed her eyes wearily. "That explains it. Do you remember
the Full-Body Cat Tongue?" she asked.

    "I ain't likely to forget," he snorted. "You fixed me so I couldn't
change back, 'cause I couldn't stand any amount of heat ... at all," his
voice trailed off.

    "Yes. To cure it, I eventually let you have the Phoenix Pill, which
increased your ability to withstand heat. That is the core of the
problem," she said quietly. "It was prophesied long ago that someone
who had taken the Phoenix Pill would kill the Dragon of the Valley of
Twilight. Only such a person, in whom the power of the Pill had come to
full fruition, could possibly survive the Dragon's fire long enough to
kill him."

    "But that's nuts!" Ranma protested. "I almost got fried fighting
Saffron."

    "That's because the Pill had not achieved full potency," she
responded drearily. "The one who takes it must be exposed to the
water of Jusendo, and the powers of the Kinjakan and Gekkajan. After
that, the full power of the Phoenix Pill will begin to manifest
itself. Eventually, you would become immune to the greatest extremes
of heat and cold, and even be able to wield them to some degree. It is
similar, according to this scroll, to the process by which the original
Lord Saffron gained his powers. Unfortunately, it seems the Dragon
can sense when someone in the world begins to receive the power, and
emerges from his valley to kill such a one before he or she can present
a challenge."

    "But I never even heard of this Dragon," Ranma demurred. "I never
would have run into him if he'd just left me alone."

    "The Dragon is apparently not willing to take that chance." Cologne
sighed. "The whereabouts of the two staffs has been unknown to the
Amazons for centuries. It never even occurred to me that there might be
a problem with giving you the Pill."

    Ranma waved a hand impatiently. "That don't matter now. How can I
fight this thing? Will the Pill protect me?"

    "It should provide you some protection, at least from the damage the
fire may inflict, although it will still cause you pain - perhaps great
pain," she warned. "You will need to try to keep the Dragon in human
form - his power is lessened."

    "How am I supposed to do that?"

    The old woman managed to smile slightly. "I think you can guess when
I tell you that, in dragon form, his power is so great that he cannot
help giving off tremendous amounts of heat."

    "Of course," Ranma said, smacking the table. "The Hiryu shoten-ha!"

    Cologne nodded. "Indeed. The technique even received its name from
the fact that it was developed to fight dragons."

    "Will that stop him?"

    "Unlikely," Cologne said with a grimace. "Against a lesser dragon,
perhaps. But your opponent will almost certainly survive, though it
should force him to remain human for the duration, or you would be able
to kill him."

    Ranma bit his lip. "Do I have to kill him? I mean, if I beat him,
and let him live, wouldn't he agree to leave me alone?"

    "I doubt it," Cologne said flatly. "If you proved yourself better,
he would be more determined than ever to kill and eat you, to secure
himself against the chance that you might change your mind in the
future."

    "EAT him?" Akane said, her voice rising to a squeak.

    Cologne nodded grimly. "Most dragons do not particularly enjoy human
flesh, but the scroll mentions that humans who have taken the Phoenix
Pill are considered something of a delicacy. Additionally, the Dragon
likes to make sure that there is no chance of anyone escaping and coming
back later on."

    Akane and Shampoo looked horrified, and even Mousse had a sick
expression. Although he had come to Nerima as an implacable enemy, I
knew that over the ensuing months, especially since the fight against
this Saffron, he and Ranma had become almost friends. "Is there nothing
we can do?" he asked.

    "No. Ranma is the only one with the chance to survive even the first
encounter. If you attempted to interfere, your weapons would be puddles
of molten metal in seconds, as the fury of the Dragon's fire incinerated
your flesh and charred your very bones."

    Ranma clasped his hands together as they rested on the tabletop and
fixed his eyes on them. "What other good news you got for me? I remember
Prince Herb was descended from a dragon. Is that what I got to fight,
somebody like Herb who can breathe fire? If that's the case I might as
well make out my will right now."

    Cologne scanned the ancient scroll, pondering the fading writing.
"There are few accounts of a fight with this Dragon, since he has always
won, and always devoured the loser. Do not forget that Herb was the
human descendant of a transformed dragon, who had inherited some of the
draconic abilities. The Dragon of the Valley of Twilight is a true
dragon, who can assume a human form at will. When he has chosen for some
reason to fight in human guise, he does not appear to be a very skilled
fighter. Presumably he has never seen the need to learn. As a human,
he possesses enormous strength and stamina, perhaps on the order
of Lime of the Musk Dynasty. His speed would appear to be somewhat
inferior to yours, so you have that advantage. Finally, if all else
fails, he will attempt to simply snuff out your life force."

    "I don't get it. You mean some kind of ki attack?"

    "Not as you know it." Cologne hesitated. "Accounts are unclear,
but it seems that it involves a technique known as 'reflective
resonance.' You attempt to synchronize with the flow of your opponent's
ki, setting up a devastatingly destructive feedback. This is my best
guess, at any rate."

    Ranma closed his eyes and considered this. "But if the guy you were
fighting managed to match your ki first, wouldn't that hit you with the
feedback?"

    "Yes, if your opponent figures out what's you're doing and is
sufficiently versed in manipulating his ki. Since the Dragon has the
experience of thousands of years behind him, and, being nonhuman,
presumably possesses a ki flow pattern unlike anything his opponents
might have encountered, he always wins."

    "And I'm supposed to have a chance at this?"

    "I don't know. Your curse may aid you here. Since you are physically
both male and female, you are at least potentially balanced between yin
and yang. If you can accept your dual nature, and work with it, you
could present the Dragon with a situation unlike anything he has faced
before. That is the best hope I can offer you."

    "Just what I need, pop psychology," Ranma groused. "'Accept your
feminine side.' What's next, finding the child within?  And how am I
supposed to accept my curse? Put makeup on half my face? Get engaged to
a couple of guys to balance things out?  Gahh!" He stood up. "Thanks,
Cologne. Maybe it'll help. I only got a couple of hours, and there are
some people I need to talk to. It'd probably be smarter to stay away,
but if you guys want to see it, I'll be in the park west of the school
at noon. I gotta go talk to Ucchan, and then see my mom. Might not get
another chance."

    Akane stood up also. "You talk as if you expect to lose. Did you
leave your ego at home this morning?" she said, in an attempt at
lightness.

    He shrugged. "You saw that thing. He could gobble up Taro's monster
form and still have room to snack on me for dessert. I ain't giving
up, but I gotta tell you," he paused, and stared into the distance, "I
gotta bad feeling about this. I'm still alive because I'm damn good, and
because I'm lucky. Except where women are concerned. Well, I think maybe
my luck just ran out. Come on, let's go."

    I watched as the two walked out of the restaurant. Shampoo watched
them go, with an expression of naked longing on her face so poignant I
was forced to look away.

    "Great-grandmother," she said softly, her voice barely rising above
a whisper, "is there chance?"

    The aged matriarch said nothing; her desolate expression was
enough. At that moment she seemed every year of her century and more. I
wondered how often she had been forced to watch her children and
grandchildren precede her into death. I remembered something my mother
had said, on the only occasion when she had ever spoken of the daughter
who had died before I was born. "There is nothing in this world worse,"
she had told me, "than a parent having to watch her child die." Looking
at Cologne, I understood that, whatever Ranma had been to her when she
came here, he was a son to her now.

    Seeing the look on her ancestor's face, Shampoo bowed her head. Her
dark locks fell forward to shroud her features, but did nothing to
obscure the tears that splashed soundlessly on the table. For the
first time I could see the resemblance between the two Amazon women,
who differed in so many ways. Mousse sat between them, bearing silent
witness to their grief.

    Realizing that I was intruding, I rose to go. Cologne looked up and
said quietly, "Thank you for your help, boy. Your observations have at
least given him a chance."

    I bowed to her, moved by a blend of respect and pity. "I can only
hope it'll be enough." As I said it, I knew, with some slight surprise,
that I meant every word. Even if I had still regarded Ranma as my enemy,
I could not have wished upon him the fate that seemed to lie in store. I
walked out into the bright sunshine.

    It seemed strange that the rest of the world was following its daily
course, completely unheeding of the events transpiring in our little
corner of Tokyo. I walked slowly down the sidewalk, watching the people
bustling along. None of them knew that in a couple of hours, a boy would
be fighting for his very life against a creature out of myth. I felt
caught in a dream, or a nightmare. I wanted to shout at them, "Don't you
know what's going to happen? Somebody we know is very likely going to
die! Don't you care?"

    Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered that much to them. Perhaps they
would have said, "People die every day. Sometimes it's tragic, sometimes
not. There's nothing we can do about it." Old Mr. Fujiwara there across
the street. He'd lost his wife and two of his children before I was
born. What was the death of a boy he scarcely knew to him, who had
already lost so much?

    I shook my head. It mattered to me. No one I had ever known,
personally, had died. Academically, I knew it would happen one day,
but I was ill prepared to face the reality of death. I strolled along
aimlessly, trying to come to grips with it, trying to decide what to
do. I knew that there was nothing I could do to affect the outcome of
the coming confrontation. Logically, I should go home and stay out of
harm's way. If my parents had heard of the fire at the school, they
would be worried about me. Somehow, though, I just couldn't do it. I
felt the need to be there. Was it simply ghoulish curiosity, and nothing
more? I hoped not.

    After wandering the streets for some time, I stopped at a telephone
and called my mother to reassure her. I told her that I would be
studying at the library for a time, and she accepted it. Evidently she
had not heard any of the more outre details of the fire. I hung up the
phone with a twinge of guilt; I didn't like lying to her, but I didn't
think the truth would be very helpful in this case. I walked over to the
park to wait for noon.

    I sat on a bench and thought about Ranma. I remembered the first
time I saw him, and how jealous I was of him. I remembered my attempts
to find out his weakness. I remembered trying to compete with Ranma at
playing Romeo, and the incident with the paper dolls. I remembered all
the stories I had heard about Ranma's adventures. Some of them had been
hard to credit at the time, but after what I had seen today, I could
believe almost anything.

    I thought about all the conversations at school I'd listened to, and
taken part in, about Ranma and his fiancees. The boys envied him; the
girls admired him; both blamed him for his treatment of Akane. To our
minds, Akane was his rightful fiancee; Ranma was either too indecisive,
or too much of a playboy, to make the obvious choice. The way Shampoo
pursued him was shameless, all because of some ridiculous custom; the
girl was certainly no better than she should be. Even Ukyo came in for
her share of criticism. The way she dressed, the way she had sought
Ranma for ten years - the poor girl should have gotten over her juvenile
crush long ago. As for Kodachi - well! Did anything really need to
be said about the inappropriateness of her behavior?  Thus went the
consensus at Furinkan High.

    The scene at the restaurant was forcing me to rethink some of the
things I "knew." That expression on Shampoo's face - she truly loved
Ranma, and she was truly suffering now. I tried to imagine myself in
Ranma's position. If a beautiful girl like Shampoo, or Ukyo, looked at
me like that, what would I have done? I snorted. I'd have done whatever
she wanted me to. If I were in Ranma's position, I'd have done a worse
job than he did. Then I sighed. It would be nice to have just one girl
looking at me like that.

    I sat there, lost in thought, for some time. Finally, I looked up,
to see people gathering in a large open field not far from me. I stood
up, and walked over to join them.

    Ranma was there, with Akane, Ukyo, and Shampoo clustered around
him. He was talking to his father, and a sad-looking woman I guessed to
be his mother, from the marked resemblance to Ranma's female form. I
bit my lip indecisively. I didn't want to intrude, but I didn't know
most of the people here very well. Glancing around, I spied Ryoga
Hibiki conversing with Mousse and Konatsu, and a pretty girl I didn't
recognize. Miss Hinako must have encountered some delinquents, for
she was in her fully adult form, though uncharacteristically subdued,
as she clung to Soun Tendo's arm while he stood with Kasumi and
Nabiki. Dr. Tofu stood silently a small distance off, his hands in his
pockets, not far from Cologne, who was talking quietly to Happosai. I
approached the good doctor hesitantly, but it seemed the gravity of the
situation was helping him keep himself under control.

    He glanced up and said soberly, "Hello, Hikaru. Unable to stay
away?"

    I nodded. "I saw the - thing - at the school. Somehow I just felt I
- well - had to see. I don't really know why."

    "I understand." He said nothing more.

    As I waited, I looked at the quiet conversations going on around
us. Finally, I said, "I recognize most of the people here, but who is
the girl with Ryoga? And is that Ranma's mother?"

    Never taking his eyes off Kasumi, Dr. Tofu replied, "The girl is
Akari Unryu, Ryoga's girlfriend. I understand she and Akane have become
friends, and Akane had previously invited her to stay with the Tendos'
for a few days. She hasn't brought her sumo pig Katsunishiki, I see -
probably a wise decision, since it's possible the Dragon would be unable
to resist eating him. That is indeed Mrs. Saotome with Ranma." He shook
his head. "She's only had a few weeks to get to know him."

    I looked with some interest at Ranma's mother. I'd heard some
stories about her, and the odd promise Ranma and his father had made. At
the time, it had simply seemed part and parcel of Ranma's strange
life. Now, I saw her with new eyes. I saw the same grief on her face
that I had seen on Cologne's. Her son, her only child had been taken
from her when he was only three. She had missed seeing him grow up. His
triumphs and his failures, his sorrows and his joys: she hadn't been
there to share any of them. Soon, he might be taken from her again, this
time for good. I shook my head. Things had been a lot simpler before
today. I had known Ranma had problems, but those problems, and Ranma
himself, had seemed almost unreal to me, and to a lot of the other
students at Furinkan. They were a source of entertainment, more than
anything else. Now everything was much too real.

    "It was a lot easier when it all seemed like a game," I muttered. I
didn't realize I had spoken aloud until Dr. Tofu responded.

    "It always is. Eventually, no matter how charmed a life you may
lead, reality rears its ugly head, and things are never the same. All
part of growing up, I suppose," Dr. Tofu said quietly.

    I grimaced. I always hated that answer. It trivialized what you were
going through, what you were feeling, and reduced it to the level of
your friends' complaints about tests. It was probably true, but I don't
suppose that fact has ever endeared the observation to anyone.

    Apparently he noticed my expression, for the doctor grinned at me
sympathetically and said, "Sorry! I remember how much I hated it when my
parents said things like that to me."

    Suddenly, a shadow fell over us. I glanced up to the vast bulk of the
Dragon blotting out the sun. It seemed even larger than it had this
morning. Slowly it spiraled in until it came to earth some distance from
us. It settled down and folded its tail around its body like some kind
of unearthly cat and gazed at us dispassionately. "If you have come to
witness this boy's death, you may do so. If you have come to join in
his death, you may do that also. The choice is yours." I might have
expected some great booming voice from a creature that huge, instead
it seemed no louder than a winter wind blowing through the bare trees,
but much, much colder.

    Ranma stepped forward. "It's just me, Dragon. First, is there any
way to avoid this fight? I got nothing against you. I can swear I'll
never attack you or nothing."

    The Dragon laughed humorlessly. "You know little of the workings
of fate, child. Even I, with all my power, am nearly helpless against
the machinations of destiny. It is decreed that we shall fight, sooner
or later. I choose that it shall be now."

    "If that's the way it's gotta be," Ranma shrugged. Abruptly, he was
motion, running toward the Dragon so swiftly that he seemed a blur. If
he had hoped to catch the Dragon off guard, he failed, for it simply
breathed out a searing blast of flame at him. Ranma barely had
time to dodge to one side. The Dragon simply turned its head and
breathed again, forcing Ranma to continue running almost at a right
angle to the Dragon.

    "How can he even get close to the Dragon, when all it has to do is
breathe on him?" Once more I didn't even realize I had spoken aloud
until Cologne responded.

    "So far everything is going according to plan," the old woman said
calmly. "The Dragon is giving off a great deal of heat, and son-in-law
is running around him, slowly spiraling in. Soon he will be able to
strike."

    At that moment, Ranma stopped and threw a punch at the Dragon while
shouting some words I couldn't make out. I wondered for a second what
he was doing, since he was much too far away to hit his opponent, but
I got my answer almost immediately. A huge wind sprang up as an
glowing tornado formed around the startled Dragon. The roaring twister
drowned out anything the Dragon might have said as it hurled the great
reptile high into the sky.

    I knew Cologne had said the Dragon would probably survive, but at
the moment I couldn't see how that would be possible. Looking around,
I voiced a question that had occurred to me during the Dragon's initial
appearance. "Why aren't there huge crowds around us? I mean, we've got
a Dragon landing in a city park and a big fight ending in a giant
tornado - you'd think that would attract some attention."

    Dr. Tofu said dryly, "You'd be surprised how easy it is for people
to ignore events that don't fit into their personal views of the world."

    "Even in Nerima? I mean, we've seen some pretty strange things
here recently."

    "Even in Nerima, son," the doctor said, a little sadly.

    Before I could ask him what he was talking about, a body came
tumbling from the sky and landed near Ranma, creating a large crater.
It was the Dragon, back in human form. The figure lay unmoving at the
bottom of the hole.

    "Is that it?" I asked.

    It wasn't. The man - the Dragon - stirred and rose to his feet
before climbing out of the crater. He looked at Ranma expressionlessly.
"I have heard of that technique, but never witnessed it. Impressive,
and spectacularly painful. Now there is no doubt that you must die."

    Without speaking, Ranma leaped at him, and the battle was joined. I
wish someone else could write of that fight. I didn't know enough of
martial arts to appreciate it, and both combatants were moving so
swiftly that I could barely grasp what was happening. It seemed that
Ranma was indeed faster, striking most of the blows, until the Dragon
must have caught him with a powerful punch, for suddenly Ranma was sent
flying backwards.

    He hit the ground hard, but jumped back into the fray
immediately. The Dragon had made good use of the opportunity, though,
and caught him with an immense blast of fire. Ranma screamed as the
flames engulfed him, but to my amazement he came leaping through
apparently unharmed, although most of his clothes were burned away. He
hit the Dragon full on the chin with a powerful kick that snapped
his head back and sent him staggering. The Dragon glared at him and
snarled, "Time to end this, boy!"  Ranma's hands blurred toward the
Dragon, who barely managed to catch his wrists. Then, suddenly, the two
just stood there, unmoving.

    I blinked, and looked toward Cologne. "What's happening?"

    Her eyes remained fixed on them as she replied, "The Dragon is
attempting the 'reflective resonance' technique. We will know in a few
seconds if Ranma can master it swiftly enough to have a chance."

    I watched Ranma and the Dragon stand motionless as the seconds
ticked by. Presumably they were engaged in a life-or- death struggle,
but there was no evidence of it. Except – I noticed a low-pitched
humming noise on the very edge of audibility. I couldn't pinpoint it at
first, but as it rose in pitch, I noticed a faint glow appearing around
the two fighters. "Are that glow and that humming caused by what they're
doing, ma'am?"

    Cologne turned and looked at me, her eyebrows rising in
surprise. "You can actually see it, even without being attuned to
sensing ki? Amazing. The energy level must be even higher than I
thought." Her brows contracted as she added, "The die is definitely
cast, now. At this point, the discharge would kill at least one of them,
even if they tried to disengage."

    The glow grew brighter, and brighter still. Now something else
was happening. Ranma's figure began to flicker, as he started
changing spontaneously from male to female and back again. The period
between transformations grew shorter, until Ranma seemed to be caught
in a strobe light, even as the glow became almost too painful to
bear. Suddenly a flash of light brighter than the noontime sun left me
trying to blink away the afterimages burned into my retinas. When my
vision finally cleared, everyone was running toward a solitary figure
lying on the ground. When I got there, I found Ranma's fiancees kneeling
by him, tears streaming down their faces. Catching a glimpse of him, I
understood why. By some irony, cruel or kind, his face was untouched,
but below.... His legs were so badly burned they seemed mere lumps of
charcoal. The flesh on his chest had blackened and cracked to expose his
ribs. The smell of charred meat was so strong I nearly gagged. By some
miracle, he still breathed, though how his lungs could work I was unable
to imagine, and after a few moments he even managed to open his eyes.

    "Ranma!"

    "Airen!"

    "Ran-chan! Are you -" Ukyo choked, unable to go on.

    "Am I what, Ucchan? Okay?" Ranma said with the ghost of a
chuckle. "Not so's you'd notice. I guess I'm in shock, which is good,
because when I start feeling again, I'll be dead in no time. Now
listen up, everybody, I ain't got much time. When I was linked with
the Dragon, we got real close. He learned a lot of stuff about me,
and I got even more from him. When he knew he was going to lose, he
decided to go out with a bang by letting his heart's fire go all at
once. I had to stop that, 'cause it would have taken out a couple square
miles of the city. Using the Phoenix Pill, I was able to keep that
from happening. Only problem was, I had to absorb it all myself. I did
learn a lot of stuff, though, and I gotta tell somebody before it's too
late. One thing first."

    His eyes shifted to me, a depth in them that I had never seen
before. "Hikaru."

    "Y-yes, Ranma."

    "Remember." That was all he said to me, but I thought I knew what he
meant.

    "I will," I promised him. At the time, I thought it would be hard
for me to do anything else.

    His eyes left me, and roamed the circle of faces around him. "I
should probably make some big speech, with something to say to each one
of you, but frankly, I ain't gonna live that long. I need to talk to a
few people alone now. Happosai, Cologne, Akane, Ucchan, Shampoo, Mom
and Dad, hang on a sec. The rest of you, all I can say is goodbye, and
thanks for being my friends."

    We left them alone, and stood a small distance off. I watched as
he talked to Cologne and an unusually subdued Happosai first. After a
few minutes, the two old martial artists left and walked back toward
us. When they approached, Ryoga asked, "What was it? What did he tell
you?"

    Cologne didn't even look up as they passed us, but Happosai glanced
toward us long enough to say, "We're going to make preparations for
Ranma's funeral."

    I watched them go, chilled by his somber pronouncement. It wasn't
supposed to be this way, was it? Ranma had won. Things could go on the
way they always had, right? No. Nothing would ever be the same, I was
beginning to realize.

    Now Genma and Nodoka Saotome approached. Mr. Saotome held his wife's
arm to guide her as she stumbled along, for she was blinded by the tears
spilling down her face, though she made not a sound. His face bore a
stunned expression, and he seemed twenty years older than before.

    I looked back to the girls kneeling around their fallen fiance,
in time to see Ukyo lean over and kiss Ranma's lips gently. Shampoo
followed suit, and finally Akane kissed him. They paused a moment, their
heads bowed, then stood up, and I knew that Ranma was dead.

    The three girls came toward us. I don't know what I expected -
a storm of tears, wailing, hysterics perhaps, anything but what I
saw. They walked in a line, Akane in the middle, flanked by Shampoo and
Ukyo, all wearing the same remote expression. Even when they stopped
and looked at us, I had the feeling none of them really saw us; all
their attention was focused elsewhere.

    "Ryoga, Mousse," Akane said quietly. "Please bring Ranma back to
the house." Turning to the rest of us, she said, "The funeral will be
held this evening at our house. You are all invited, of course. Hikaru,
perhaps you could invite the Kunos."

    I nodded numbly, and reflected on life's little ironies. Not long
ago the fact that Akane had spoken to me would have sent me into
transports of delight, but then, not long ago, I would have rejoiced at
the thought of Ranma's demise. Now, confronted by harsh reality, I felt
bereft and diminished.

    I left then, unable to bear the sight of the two boys about their
grisly work, and went home in a daze. I told my mother that I was going
to study at a classmate's house that evening, and left her pleased that
I was finally making friends. If only she knew, I remember thinking. I
sat at my desk, an open book before me, and stared blindly into space
the rest of the day. I can't tell you what I thought about; rather I
could, but it would take far more time and space than any of my thoughts
would merit. So passed the afternoon.

    As evening approached I roused myself for the trip to the Kunos. I
had put it off until the last moment because I was not looking forward
to it at all. It was as bad as I had feared. Tatewaki, although he
expressed his sorrow at his rival's end, could not contain his elation
at the thought that both his loves would now be free to return his
affection.

    "I must make haste to stand beside them, in this their hour of
need," he nobly declaimed. "Too long have I let concealment, like a worm
i' the bud, feed on my damask cheek. They must know that there is one
who waits to comfort them, who has long worshipped them from afar. Now
is the time to make clear the depths of my devotion!"

    I felt physically ill. Had I ever been that obsessed, that blind? I
hoped not, though I feared so.

    As for Kodachi....

    "You lie!" she hissed, tightening her grip upon my throat. "Ranma is
not dead! This is all some trick of those three sluts to keep him for
themselves! Ranma can't die!"

    I was feeling light-headed now from lack of air, but I managed to
croak out, "I was there. I saw it. If you go to the Tendos', you can see
for yourself!"

    She let go of me and I dropped to the floor with a painful thump. I
glared at them both as I got up. Normally I would never have had the
nerve to stand up to them, but I was really annoyed at their idiocy, and
still in shock from Ranma's death. "Listen to me, you two! We're
going to a funeral now, and you'd better behave. However you felt about
Ranma, whether you loved him or hated him, he meant a lot to the people
there. Kuno, if you're fool enough to start hitting on Akane at the
funeral of her fiance, you deserve whatever happens to you, and I can
guarantee it won't be pretty. Kodachi, you'd better watch yourself
around those three. They all loved Ranma in their ways, and I don't
think they'll take too kindly to any of your nonsense."

    When I realized what I had said, I cringed, expecting to be in
severe pain at any moment. For some reason, though the Kuno siblings
both gazed at me in utter astonishment, they said nothing more, but went
and got ready. I stood in the hallway and waited for them, marveling at
the fact that I was still alive, without even any broken bones. When
they finally returned, garbed in suitable attire, we set off.

    Tatewaki strode ahead, doubtless rehearsing the speeches he would
make to woo his darlings. At least he spared us a preview. Kodachi and
I trailed along behind in silence. After a time, she said to me, "Is it
really true?"

    I nodded.

    She walked a little further. "We only ever went on one date," she
said forlornly. "I knew he didn't love me, but I always hoped that
one day...." She looked at me. "I'm not really a bad person, am I? He
could have come to love me in time, couldn't he?" she asked, her voice
breaking.

    My hesitation was only momentary. "Yes, I think he could have." And
the sun might rise in the west tomorrow, I thought. I didn't say it,
though. In her own confused way, she had loved Ranma, too. She would be
in enough pain this evening, without my adding to it. The fact that it
kept me from suffering any more pain also figured into my discretion.

    We arrived at the Tendos' house, and were ushered into the backyard
by Kasumi. There I was surprised to see Ranma's body laid out on a pyre
built of fragrant woods sprinkled with various type of incense. The
aroma was powerful without being cloying. The same group that had
witnessed Ranma's death was present here, all standing quietly together
gazing at the body. Akane, Shampoo, and Ukyo stood together near the
pyre bearing burning torches.

    When Tatewaki caught sight of Akane, he headed straight for
her. "Akane," he began.

    He got no farther, for the three girls raised their eyes and looked
at him, a look such as I hope never to see directed at me. It stopped
his oratory in mid-word, and brought him to a standstill. It was not a
look of anger, or reproof. It was more the way a scientist might examine
a mildly interesting though rather ugly new species of beetle.

    "Please go stand with the others," Akane told him calmly, in a voice
so devoid of expression I felt a chill just hearing it. Kuno flinched
visibly, and complied. Twice today his self-absorption had been pierced,
I thought. I wondered if that had ever happened before.

    Akane turned her gaze to Kodachi, but it was a warmer, more
sympathetic one. "Kodachi, you may join us if you will," she said,
holding out a torch. As one in a dream, Kodachi walked slowly to the
pyre and looked down on Ranma's face. She reached out a hand and touched
his cheek once, then turned and took the torch from Akane. The four
girls stood round the body, one on each side of the pyre, and waited.

    I found myself standing next to Dr. Tofu again. I murmured, "Is
this actually legal? I mean, are they really going to cremate him right
here?" The whole scene was so bizarre, and everyone was treating it so
matter-of-factly.

    Dr. Tofu glanced at me and said with an air of calm assurance, "Oh,
yes. It's what Ranma wanted."

    I blinked. That was his answer?

    "No one will interfere tonight," he continued, "and in a few days
it won't matter anyway." He gave no explanation for this interesting
statement, and I did not get a chance to inquire further.

    Nodoka Saotome stepped forward, and regarded us all. Her face was
pale but composed as she said, "Someone once wrote, 'Heaven gives it
favorites - early death.' I don't know if my son was one of heaven's
favorites. I do know he died as he would have wished," her voice
faltered, then continued, "though far sooner than all of us would have
wanted. Don't grieve for him too much."

    Her voice strengthened as she went on, "As the poet said,
'Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail
 Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,
 Dispraise, or blame,--nothing but well and fair,
 And what may quiet us in a death so noble.'

    "Remember Ranma, until the turning wheel of fate brings us all
together again." She bowed her head, and Akane nodded to the other
torchbearers. They held out their torches, and lit the pyre before
stepping back a few paces.

    I assumed we would all leave then, since the fire would burn for
quite some time, but everyone remained where they were. I found out why
when the pyre flared up all at once in a massive conflagration. I could
only wonder if they had doused it with gasoline or something, and also
why none of the neighbors were calling the fire department. In a few
short minutes, to my amazement, the fire had completely burned itself
out. The wood had apparently burned completely up, leaving nothing
behind. The only thing left where the pyre had stood was a small heap
of white ashes where the body had been. I couldn't understand what was
happening. I knew that any normal cremation leaves bits and pieces of
bone and such. Any fire intense enough to render a body to ashes as
quickly as that should have set fire to the Tendos' house. Certainly we
would have been unable to get anywhere near it. Yet I had felt no more
than a momentary wash of heat such as you might get from opening an oven
briefly. I looked around. Didn't anyone else find this as strange as I
did?

    Kuno appeared stunned, apparently still reeling from the look
Ranma's fiancees had given him. Kodachi didn't seem to see anything
for the tears filling her eyes. Everyone else bore the same look of
abstraction I had noticed on the girls earlier that day. I shivered
involuntarily, and wondered what I had gotten myself into.

    Akane, Shampoo, and Ukyo pulled out tiny whiskbrooms and swept
up all the ashes into a small urn, which Akane then presented to
Mrs. Saotome with a bow.

    Akane now approached us, still with that strange, remote
expression. "The ceremony is over," she said quietly. "Thank you for
coming. Please leave us now; we must make our preparations for mourning
Ranma." I half expected Tatewaki and Kodachi to protest, or make some
sort of trouble, but they seemed to be - not cowed, precisely, so much
as - unsettled, and they left without incident.

    I felt the same compulsion to depart, but resisted. Everyone was
acting so oddly. I wanted to find out what was going on. "Akane,
tell me something. What's going on? The way that fire burned.... And
no one here is acting much like a mourner. You all seem more distracted
than anything else, as if you're waiting for something. What am I
missing?"

    Akane looked at me for some moments; then her mouth twisted in an
odd smile as she said,
"Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
 As I foretold you, were all spirits and
 Are melted into air, into thin air:
 And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
 The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
 The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
 Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve
 And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
 Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
 As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep."

    I looked at her in confusion. "I don't understand."

    Her smile turned sad as she said to me, "You will. Now please excuse
me, there are a lot of things left to do. Goodbye, Hikaru." I could
resist no longer. I went home, puzzling over the things I had seen, and
mourning, in my own way, the death of Ranma Saotome.

    That was the last time I saw Akane Tendo. Two days later, I heard
that her father had sold the house and the dojo, taking quite a beating
since he insisted on an immediate sale. The reason for the haste became
apparent when it was found that the Tendos and the Saotomes had moved
out, and disappeared, no one knew where. Nor were they the only ones. It
was soon learned that Cologne, Shampoo, and Mousse had shut down the
Nekohanten and gone. Ucchan's was closed as well, and Ukyo and Konatsu
were not to be found; neither were Dr. Tofu and Miss Hinako. I don't
know whether Ryoga and Akari left as well, or Happosai, but certainly no
one has seen them, or any of the others, in Nerima since that day.

    Astonishing events certainly, and I would have thought they would
have been the talk of Nerima for months afterward. Indeed, at first
they were. I noticed as the days wore on, however, that gradually people
talked about Ranma and the others less and less. When I would mention
Ranma or Akane to one of my classmates, he or she would look at me in
confusion for a few seconds before the metaphoric light went on. As time
passed, that blank look lasted longer and longer. After a month or so,
people began complimenting me on the amusing stories I made up about
our mythical former classmates. Eventually, I stopped speaking about
anything related to Ranma or the Tendos to anyone but the Kunos.

    Yes, I was spending a fair amount of time with the Kunos. I was
the only one willing to put up with Tatewaki's lamentations for Akane
and the pig-tailed girl, and Kodachi's wild ramblings on the wonderful
life she would have with Ranma when she found him again. I found it a
relief to find two people who remembered things the way I did. As more
time passed, even this refuge failed me. Their father had moved back
home, a much changed man. He still wore Hawaiian shirts, but he had
lost his obsession with haircuts, and actually seemed like a fairly
pleasant man. His children's behavior began to moderate as well. By
the time six months had elapsed, Tatewaki was dating Mariko Konjo, now
simply a cheerleader with no martial arts training, and was generally
the most admired boy at school. He was much less pompous, and a good
friend. Kodachi - well, somehow I ended up dating Kodachi. I'm not
sure how it happened - the best answer I can come up with is that as
the Kunos forgot about Ranma, they needed some explanation for the
time I'd been spending at their house. Somehow, it was decided, (how I
have not a clue), that I'd been over there so much because I cherished
a secret passion for Kodachi, a passion that she eventually came to
return. Needless to say, this came as something of a surprise to me. I'd
been rather afraid of Kodachi before, but now - well, she was quite
beautiful, and there was a sad, lonely, somewhat bewildered air to her
now that pulled at me. She knew that something was missing from her
life; she just didn't know what. I seemed to help fill part of the void
she was dimly conscious of. In short, she needed me, and I'd never been
needed before. It didn't take long before I fell in love with her. I
was worried for a time that she'd tire of me as she adjusted to her
changed circumstances, but if anything our relationship has only gotten
stronger, to the point where we're now officially engaged.

    For some time I thought I was immune to the strange forgetfulness
that was affecting everyone else. A few weeks ago, though, I was
looking through my photo albums, and found that I couldn't remember the
circumstances under which I had taken some of the pictures of Ranma and
Akane. In addition, there were empty spaces in the album, where some
photos were apparently removed, by what or whom I cannot guess. I'm
finding it harder and harder to recall the details of the adventures I
only heard about, and even the ones I witnessed are taking on an aura of
unreality in my memory. By trading shamelessly on my relationship with
the principal's daughter I managed to get in to check the school records
a while ago, and found that there was no information about Ranma, Ukyo,
or any of the Tendos. I don't know what's happening, but I fear I won't
be able to keep my promise to Ranma. Therefore I have evolved a plan.

    I have written to a certain manga creator I admire, and told her
the outlines of the story of Ranma, describing it as a dream I once
had. She has agreed to consider a manga based on the ideas I mentioned
to her. I have asked for nothing in return, simply saying that I felt an
odd compulsion to see this story in print. I have hopes that before I
completely forget Ranma and the others, if that should happen, I shall
be able to give her as much of their history as I can recall. Perhaps
Ranma and Akane, wherever they are, will know that Hikaru Gosunkugi did
his best to remember them, and to ensure that their story was not lost.

    As I think back over the times that are gone, I wonder a little at
the sadness that fills me. I'm happier now, in my 'normal' life. Kodachi
and Tatewaki are happier too, I think. Even so - there was something in
those days, some tang or savor, which is missing now. Maybe it's just
part of growing up. (Maybe using phrases like "it's part of growing up"
is a sign you're growing up.)  The years of your childhood are usually
golden in retrospect, right?

    No, it's more than that. When the rain begins to fall, and there is
no longer any chance that the person you pass on the street will become
a panda, or a cat, or anything but wet, the whole world is diminished,
a more lackluster and ordinary place, whether it knows it or not. With
Ranma died much of the world's mystery.

    I can't help wondering about one thing, though. Ranma had taken the
Phoenix Pill, and before he died it had come to full potency. Was it
just a coincidence that they burned his body on the sort of pyre that -
no, it sounds mad even thinking it. Yet I remember that Akane and the
rest bore up under their grief very well. Could it be -? I don't know,
and I don't suppose I ever shall. Just on the off chance, though....

    I've taken up the study of martial arts, and I'm brushing up on my
Chinese. I wonder if Kodachi would like to honeymoon in China. Say, the
Qinghai province.


                          The End


Reid Carson
rcarson@mnsinc.com