Rain dropped from the sky in sheets.  Ranma romped up the sodden trail with
the strange girl cradled in her arms.  The girl seemed so withdrawn since
her pet died, clamping her eyes shut and shriveling into a ball, shutting
out all light from the outside world; all she could do with determination
was clutch the leather bag tightly against herself.  She felt cold and weak,
and Ranma thought she was probably starting to get sick.  Ranma felt sorry
for her and could somehow relate to her.  They both needed to get to
someplace warm and dry.

	And to Ranma's relief, she spied a cottage ahead--on top of the next small
hill.  As she was hoping, assuming that she really was in Jusenkyo for some
strange reason, the Jusenkyo Guide's house had to be nearby.  Ranma sloshed
through the puddles a bit faster.  The rain slacked up slightly as if
allowing her to seek sanctuary.

	Wasting no time, she kicked the door in and ran inside, but was stopped
short (no pun intended).  Standing before her was a balding, middle-aged man
in a samurai outfit--like Kunou wore--with a bokken pointed directly at her
(NOTE: No, it's not Kunou.).  He rubbed the side of his head with his free
hand as though he had a really bad headache.  His initial expression was one
of surprise, as if he weren't expecting company so soon, but then his face
contorted into a cross between anger and confusion.  Ranma remained
perfectly still, not wanting to provoke an attack with a sick girl in her arms.

	"What manner of sorcery is this?! (NOTE: I repeat, this is not Kunou.)  Be
you some sort of aparition?  A doppelganger, perhaps?"  The man cocked an
eye at the girl in Ranma's arms, and his face darkened.  Ranma took a step
backwards.  He roared through his teeth, "If you have harmed my daughter in
any way...!"

	Ranma gasped and shook her head furiously, then prepared to retreat back
into the downpour (it looked alot safer out there).  Suddenly, the man's
eyes lit up, then his expression became placid.  Ranma raised her eyebrows,
rescabbarded his sword, and said thoughtfully, "No.  I don't suppose you
did.  And spirits do not usually leave puddles of water in people's houses."
She looked down at the trail she was leaving.

	"Follow me."  He turned and walked into a room somewhere in the back.
Ranma looked back toward the front door, on the other side of which was a
steady torent, and weighed her options.  "We cannot waste time!" came the
old man's voice.  She hesitantly followed.

	Ranma entered the small room in which the man was waiting--showing more
patience than she would have expected from the girl's father.  He lit a
candle and two incense sticks and set them on a small table under the
window, then gestured toward the bed.  Ranma laid her gently on top of the
covers as bidden--the girl was more relaxed now and seemed to be sleeping.

	The old man felt his daughter's forehead and grunted noncommitally.  He
took the pouch she was still holding and set it on the table.  "Now help me
get her undressed."  Ranma's face contorted and she took a step back.

	The man pulled open her robe, then noticed that he was recieving no
assistance.  He stared back and met Ranma's shocked face.  "Do not tell me
ghosts are developing a sense of modesty now.  And even if you are not a
ghost, a girl should not find shame in another girl."

	Ranma huffed and stepped up to the bed, then slipped her arms underneath
the girl's back and knees.  She raised her slightly, allowing the man to
slip the clinging fabric from his daughter's cold frame and pull back the
covers, then she set her back down with a soft sigh of relief.

	Drawing the covers to her neck, her father whispered, "Everything will be
fine, Miko.  You have a new friend now."  He stood up and rested a hand on
Ranma's shoulder and gently said, "I just need to get some medicine.  Please
watch her."  He then left the room.

	Ranma knelt by her side and studied the almost lifeless features of her
face, still amazed at the nearly identicle resemblance to herself.  The girl
stirred a bit, and Ranma whispered, "Don't worry, Miko, you're pop says
you'll be fine."

	She cooed, "Guardian Spirit,"  and smiled.

		

	"Excuse me for not introducing myself earlier.  My name is Doshin Lee."  He
bowed slightly in his seat.

	They were sitting across from each other at a small table in what Ranma
guessed was the kitchen.  The room was dim, lighted only by a few candles
and a dull lantern hanging from the ceiling.

	"Ranma Saotome," she roughly introduced as she stared at the lovely
blue-and-green blouse she was wearing that her host gave her from Miko's
meager wardrobe.

	"I am very grateful that you saved my daughter's life.  I owe you my life."

	Ranma glanced in his direction and gave a brief wave of dismissal.  "Peh.
It was nothin.  Forget it."

	Doshin raised his eyebrows.  "Taking on Emperor Fang's personal guard
--especially Lon--is no mean task.  It was because of Lon that Miko was
taken from me so easily.  No.  You are very special indeed.  I owe you a
great debt, and I would take it as an insult if you did not accept."

	Ranma sighed heavily.  "Ok."  After a moment of thought, she said, "You can
start by telling me why those creeps were getting ugly with Miko back there."

	Doshin looked confused, then decided he caught the gist of what she was
asking.  He let out a deep breath, then began his story: "Many years ago,
soon after Miko and I moved here, a group of religious zealots visited the
villages in the area proclaiming a new ruling dynasty for the people of
China.  'Bring China back to the Chinese!' they preached.  And among the
leaders of the public rallies was Emperor Xi Fang."  Doshin spat the name
sourly.  "I don't know why I still call him Emperor--he is no...."  He
looked sideways at Ranma, who was staring at him in wide-eyed disbelief.
"Is there something wrong with my tale?"

	"What'd ya mean 'new ruling dynasy' and 'Bring China back to the Chinese!'?
Who's runnin the country?"  Ranma's words were a little hasty, but something
was going on.

	Doshin looked at her curiously again.  "The Manchus.  Fang protests their
occupation.  He decrees that he will overthrow the 'northern barbarians' and
take over as ruling Emperor of China."

	Ranma bit her lower lip and muttered, "Yeah, go on."

	"As of yet, the Manchus have no knowledge of Fang's presence, even though
he claims most of the Tsinghai region.  He threatens the villagers into
submission and few others wish to deal with him.  Anyone who crosses 'his'
land must pay a tax."  He cleared his throat and began more slowly.  "I was
unable to pay the tax.  Miko and I only wanted to be left alone, but Fang
swore he'd lock us in the dungeon if I didn't pay.  So I struck a bargain
that he found acceptable.  I could keep my property if I managed his royal
rice field.  At first, I, with the help of my daughter and many of the
villagers, was able to handle the task.  But now, most of the villagers have
either been enlisted into Fang's army or they are in debtor's prison.  I am
unable to fulfill my half of the pact with so few workers left.  He says I
have dishonored the agreement and he seeks reparation."

	Ranma had her head resting on her folded arms.  She stared up at Doshin's
face, half-listening to his voice and half-wondering what the heck was going
on.  She nodded slightly to signify that he hadn't lost her.

	He leaned closer, bringing his eyes more level with hers.  "Even though I
owe you much already, I must ask you an important favor.  Emperor Fang will
now try to harm Miko because he knows it would pain me more than anything
else that he can do to me.  I beg you.  Look after Miko and make sure she
stays safe."

	Ranma nodded expressionlessly.

		

	Emperor Fang sat atop his raised throne with arms crossed, half-smiling in
amusement as his colorful court jester pranced and tumbled clumbsily around
the inner chamber.  His wife sat on a stool by his feet and hummed a gay
tune as she thoughtfully sewed the hem of his robe.  She herself had on a
blue Japanese-style kimono.

	The jester performed a series of complicated backflips, crossed his arms
and legs in mid-flight, and barely managed to unfold himself and catch
himself with his hands, his nose only a fraction of an inch from the floor.
The Empress spoke softly, "Truly, Husband, I do not understand how you can
find pleasure in watching the court fool stumble about the room like that."
She did not look up from her work--but didn't really need to to know what
was going on.

	Fang's smile widened, but his eyes remained fixed on the clown.  "Ah.  But
that is because you do not care to look for the grace belying his art.
Despite his awkward and careless manner, I have seen him take several of my
best men in combat.  Whatever he may be, he is no fool."

	His wife gave a dull sigh and continued humming to herself.  The tune
almost offset the jester's blundering.

	The jester finished his routine with a deep bow sweeping all the way to the
floor.  He fanned his arms outward as he rose, like a graceful swan
preparing to take flight, and balanced himself on one foot.  The Empress
glanced at him and grinned--she knew what was coming next.  The jester drew
in a breath and emitted a smooth, crisp note that echoed throughout the chamber.

	But before he could follow into the song any further, a pair of guards
opened the main doors and one of Fang's personal warrior's burst in--by the
exceptional height of the man, it had to be Lon; he walked half-way to the
throne and bowed.  Fang bowed at the new arrival and dismissed his jester
with a wave.  The woman resting at his feet began to protest, but quickly
remembered her place.

	Fang raised an eyebrow when he noticed that Lon's mask had been damaged.
His wife also looked up in surprise.  Lon spoke in a heavily grated voice,
"We have had some difficulties.  The girl still lives."

	Fang slammed his fists into the armrests.  "What!  How could this be?  And
where is Pae-Kau?"

	Lon cringed back a bit, then bowed forgiveness.  "A strange girl descended
from the sky to challenge us.  She fought like a demon!  I was unable to
defeat her.  She threw Pae-Kau into one of the springs."

	Emperor Fang rubbed his chin and stared blankly at the floor, deeply
disturbed by the news and what it could mean.  His wife dropped her needle
in frozen shock.  Lon added in a low tone, "And another thing, Your Majesty.
I could have sworn that the stranger looked exactly like Doshin's daughter."
Fang's eyes widened once more and his wife turned pale.

	The court jester sat on the floor across the room and listened.  He folded
his arms and twisted his face, musing at the strange turn of events.  He
then glanced over at the dark form of a woman peeking from behind a heavy
curtain leading to some hidden chamber.

		

	After eating a handful of roots and berries that Doshin had handed her to
eat, Ranma decided to get some sleep.  It took at least half an hour to
convince her host that he didn't need to give up his bed for her sake--she
always slept on the floor anyway.  He eventually ended up giving her a heavy
blanket and a makeshift pillow so that she could bed down on the livingroom
floor.

	However, visions of the day's events dwelled within her and prevented her
from finding a comfortable position.  Ranma rolled onto her back with a sigh
and stared up at the ceiling, listening to the dying patter of the rain as
it bounced off the roof.  Since she woke up that morning, everything that
happened seemed radically out-of-place.  Was it really morning when she
awoke?--the sky was so murky that she couldn't tell what time of day it was,
and she could have been wandering through the rain with Miko for days for
all she knew.

	Ranma was wide awake, not even sure if she should be tired.  _Oh, man.
What's going on here?  Where am I?  Is this really Jusenkyo?_

	_The old man said that the Manchus were in control of China.  I think I
remember the history teacher one time sayin somethin about the Manchus
taking over China a really long time ago or somethin like that.  And China
used to have alot of dynasties. (CHEF'S NOTE: Spoken like a true student of
history.) So am I somehow in China's past?  How could that be?_

	She closed her eyes.  _The Old Ghoul!  I bet she has something to do with
this.  Oooooh, when I get my hands on her...._ (CUTE VOICE: HAH!  Oh, sorry.)

	She growled to herself and dismissed that thought for the moment.  _Those
pools out there did look like the Cursed Springs... and from the outside,
this does look like the Jusenkyo Guide's house... But if I'm in Jusenkyo's
past...."  The voice of the Jusenkyo Guide haunted through her head,
"...Very tragic story of pig what drown in spring one thousand two hundred
year ago." (CHEF'S NOTE: Wow.  And Ranma wasn't even there when he said it.)
(NOTE: Oh, be quiet.)  Ranma swallowed heavily when she remembered looking
inside the bag and finding Miko's little black pig, who did look more
waterlogged than anything.

	The Jusenkyo Guide's voice rose up again, "...Very tragic story of girl
what drown in spring one thousand five hundred year ago."  Ranma shook her
head.  _Why'd I have to think of that?  That's three hundred years apart._
(NOTE: Very good, Grasshopper.) An image of herself popped into her head,
and a different voice she vaguely remembered said, "You also remind me of
the girl who drowned in Nyaniichuan so many years ago."  Yet another distant
voice, which sounded like her own, sputtered, "I wike you.  Wanna pway?"
_Huh?_  "Guardian Spirit?"  _Wha?_

	Ranma opened her eyes to see herself staring upside-down at her--no wait,
it was Miko.  She was standing over Ranma's head, shivering as she held a
blanket tightly around herself.  Ranma kicked back her cover and quickly sat
up, still fully clothed.  "Miko, what're ya doin up?"

	Miko sniffled a few times and her teeth chattered.  "I'm scared, Guardian
Spirit.  Could you sleep in my room?  Please."

	Ranma stared into her glimmering eyes and found that she couldn't deny her
request.  Anyway, she was still in danger--possibly in more ways than one.
_Just as long as she doesn't ask me to sleep in her bed._  Ranma gave a
slight nod and Miko's face brightened.

	Ranma collected her own blanket and pillow and started for Miko's room.
"Come on."  It didn't take her long to notice that Miko hadn't moved.  She
looked back and saw a tear roll down Miko's cheek.  Ranma raised her
eyebrows.  "What's wrong?"

	Her voice shook, "I can't take another step without falling."  Her legs did
look kind of shaky.  Ranma rushed to her side and helped her walk back to
her bed.

	After helping Miko lay back on the bed and then readjusting her covers for
her, Ranma spread her own blanket on the floor in the middle of the room and
settled down.  Ranma felt a little more at ease--Miko was certainly looking
better than she was earlier, and a little more color had entered her
cheeks--and finding a comfortable sleeping position wasn't so much a problem.

	Ranma closed her eyes when Miko murmered, "Guardian Spirit."

	Ranma guessed she meant her.  "Yeah."

	"Thank You."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Well, that's my first installment of Nyanniichuan: Very Tragic Story.  Hope
you like it.  It's definitely darker than I planned to write it when I
started (CUTE VOICE: You not kidding.).  Tell me what you think. (CHEF'S
NOTE: Another Chinese bimbo to chase my Ranchan around.) (CUTE VOICE: Hey!)
(CHEF'S NOTE: Ha ha!  Made you look!) !Bonk! (CUTE VOICE: Stupid spatula girl.)

	And while we wait for our kind editor to recover from her concussion, I'll
be signing off.  Until next chapter!