Nabiki - New Horizons
                 Part 1 - A Match Made On Wall Street
                           by G.L. Sandborn



     A handsome young man stood in the open classroom doorway at
Furinkan Senior High School and stared wistfully at his would-be
love.  Despite the early, pre-class hour, she looked cool and
collected, someone totally in control of her environment.  Seated
at her desk and leaning on her elbows, her fists supporting her
chin, she listened with a smile as a fellow student shared a bit
of gossip.  After all, she'd often said how gossip was
information and information was as good as money in the bank.
     She was interrupted only by her assistants coming and going,
delivering tiny slips of paper and occasionally money.
     Her pleasant expression dissolved when one of them bent over
to whisper in her ear.  The startling transformation from a
beautiful, smiling classmate to the scowling, dangerous predator
he knew her to be, caused him to shudder.
     "Tell him that if he doesn't pay up by Friday...," she
growled at her associate before recovering her composure.  "Well,
he knows the consequences."
     The young man swallowed hard.  He knew she was capable of
all sorts of dire consequences when crossed.  That thought alone
gave him pause to reconsider his mission.  Perhaps what he wanted
to tell her could be delivered in a note or relayed through an
intermediary.  That would certainly satisfy his honor and spare
him the anticipated reaction.  She was not one to be trifled
with.
     Resolved to leave well enough alone and employ the safer
method of a note, he turned to leave.  Giving in to the urge to
look at her one more time, he glanced over his shoulder and saw
once again the pleasant classmate he loved so much.  The cute way
she smiled lit up the room and caused his heart to ache.  She was
everything he ever dreamed of in a girl; beautiful, intelligent,
and self-assured.  Many a restless night he dreamed of their
dates, heard her gentle voice and relived the soft touch of her
hand.  Why was this so hard?  Why couldn't he just tell her the
bad news and be done with it?
     With the interruption behind her, she resumed being the
enticing heart-breaker he'd fallen in love with so many weeks
ago.  Amused by her conversation, her light laughter filled the
room, reaching out to caress his heart like a siren song.
     Maybe she'll take the news okay.  Maybe he shouldn't worry
so much.  After all, the last time they were out together, she
actually said she liked him.  She even held his hand in public.
That should count for something.
     With a hard swallow and a nervous smile, he stepped into the
room.
     "Toshi," she exclaimed with a broad welcoming smile.  "It's
so good of you to visit me in my humble classroom."
     The young man cleared his throat and nodded.  "Thank you.
Uh, if this isn't a good time, I can come back."
     "Nonsense.  I always have time for you, Toshi-chan," she
said in a soft voice.  The fact she added a term of endearment to
his name gave him confidence he didn't have moments before.
     Still, she was who she was and should not be underestimated.
With a pained smile and another hard swallow, he bowed slightly.
"I... I just felt that honor demanded this be delivered in
person," he said, tugging at the high collar of his school
uniform jacket.  It felt like a noose around his neck.  The room
began to feel warm.  As if sensing danger, students nearby
suddenly stopped talking.
     "Oh?" the girl said while idly flattening out a piece of
paper money with her fingers.  No one could take a crinkled mess
of yen and make it look almost new the way she could.  If there
was any suspicion in her about this visit, she hid it well.
Neither her voice nor her manner suggested she suspected anything
was amiss.
     "Yes, well... I..."  He felt faint, his pulse raced, and his
fingers went numb.  "I... won't be able to take you out this
weekend," he finally stammered in one gigantic gasp.
     There was no reaction from the girl other than she abruptly
stopped smoothing the paper money.  People in the room slowly
began to back away.
     "I, uh,..."  He paused and tugged at his collar again,
noting his growing isolation.  "I don't have enough money to go
--"
     His voice choked into silence when the girl's head slowly
rose to regard him, her eyes tiny slits and her jaw set.
     "You mean to tell me my entire weekend will be ruined
because you don't have enough money to fulfill your obligation?"
Her voice sounded like the deep growl of an awakening tiger.  "I
bought a new outfit for this weekend.  What am I supposed to do
with that?"
     "Honestly, Nabiki, I don't have any more money.  I tried but
my parents insist they give me enough of an allowance.  The money
I saved is all gone.  I have nothing."  He backed towards the
door, his eyes never leaving Nabiki's angry face.  The very air
seemed to crackle with growing energy.  Only now did he fully
comprehend his mistake.  He should have done this by note or
messenger.
     For her part, Nabiki said nothing more.  She just continued
to glare at the young man as he abandoned his slow retreat and
replaced it with a hasty scramble for freedom.  He'd committed
the most unpardonable sin known to the students at Furinkan and
knew well the penalty for disappointing Nabiki Tendo.

     As the young man's frantic footsteps echoed down the
hallway, Nabiki pulled out her ledger book and opened it to a
particular page.
     "Hmmmm, yes," she said under her breath.  Turning to one of
her assistants, she smiled in a manner guaranteed to make one
shudder in fear.  "Tell our recently departed friend that as to
his account, he still owes me 50,000 yen.  I've carried his loan
on my books for six months and have been more than fair in
allowing him to date me in exchange for not charging interest."
Her eyes shifted to the now empty doorway as her voice became
vindictive.  "But I never said I wouldn't collect the balance.
Tell Toshi-san that he has until Friday to come up with the
entire amount... or else."
     "But, Nabiki, if he doesn't have enough money to take you
out this weekend, how is he going to come up with enough money to
repay you?" her long-haired assistant asked, sweeping her
generous locks from in front of her face with a graceful wave of
her hand.
     "That's his problem," Nabiki said with growing serenity, now
that she'd vented her anger.  "Surely he has things he can sell."
She went back to looking through her ledger book.  Numbers seemed
to comfort her.  "Besides, he wasn't all that great a date
companion anyway.  No imagination and nothing but hands when we
were alone."  She fluffed her hair.  "No great loss."
     Her assistants exchanged looks.  They'd seen this particular
act before.  In fact, Nabiki Tendo had made a career of
attracting the unwary, the desperate, and the just plain foolish
with loans and gambling odds.  Once in her web, she allowed them
to date her and buy her expensive gifts, spending every last yen
of their money on her before she moved on to repeat with another
guy.  There was never any love involved, just a short-term
business proposition guaranteed to meet her immediate needs.  The
smarter guys knew better than to get emotionally involved.  It
was the dumb ones that ran for their lives.

*****

     The first day at a new school is always stressful; even more
so if that school is in a foreign country.  After spending his
entire academic life attending embassy schools, Jeffrey Lawrence
faced the daunting task of integrating himself into the Japanese
education system.
     An American, born in London to a political attache of the
American Ambassador, Jeff moved to Japan at age 12 when his
father was transferred.  His embassy school education was his
mother's idea.
     There was no doubt about the educational benefits of her
decision.  Small class-sizes and constant personal attention
allowed him to excel far beyond his recognized grade level.  His
entire high school senior year had been devoted to successfully
completing college-level courses.
     Still, as the school year drew to a close, Jeff felt
something was missing.  He was 17 years old living in a foreign
country but attending a one-room school with other American
students and taught by American teachers.  He felt locked away
from the Japanese his own age, unable to experience what was so
special about them.
     He never really made much of a connection with his American
roots.  After all, he only visited his homeland a few times,
spoke with a light English accent and used too many British and
Japanese slang words to be easily understood by the average
American.  His only contact with his countrymen, outside embassy
personnel, was when he volunteered to help at the local Japan-
America Society Tourist Aid Station in Tokyo.  Contacts there
were limited to elderly tourists who only wanted to talk about
their war experiences or complain about Japan's lack of
affordable Western lodging and food.
     His Japanese was, understandably, quite good; the embassy
staff saw to that.  He knew he would probably never master Kanji
(few outsiders ever do), but he read well enough to comprehend an
average textbook.  His grasp of the spoken language was quite
admirable.  He fully understood all the nuances and formalities
the language demanded and spoke like a native.  Certain he had
sufficient background for such a venture, he longed to spend a
year among kids his own age before departing for college.
     A year at a local high school would be perfect, he thought.
All he had to do was convince his parents.  Of course, there was
more than an academic reason for wanting this.  Like most young
men his age, his thoughts turned increasingly towards girls.  His
problem was that in a legation community, there was always a lack
of girls his age.  The few he did encounter were not the kind he
wanted to share time with; some were even the stuff of
nightmares.  There was one 16-year old in particular from the
Russian embassy who was so aggressive she scared the hell out of
him.  The only American near his age was a rather well-stuffed
13-year old who acted much younger.
     Naturally, when he brought up the subject, his parents were
most reluctant.  He knew it wouldn't be an easy negotiation but
was unprepared for their adamant resistance.  For some reason,
they acted like they needed to protect him from the real world.
The debate lasted far into the evening, the impasse broken only
by his unassailable argument that it would be like being a
foreign exchange student while getting to come home every
evening.  Somewhere around midnight, his parents finally relented
and reluctantly agreed to allow him to attend a local high school
and repeat his senior year - for the cultural experience only.
     After the meeting, he overheard them talking in the kitchen,
trying to convince themselves that he would be able to handle
this new challenge.  While they acknowledged his ability to cope
academically, they feared that socially he was in for a rude
awakening.
     Because the Japanese school year runs from April to March,
it took several days to find a school that would accept a Western
student in mid-term.  Only Furinkan Senior High School in Nerima
appeared willing.  It wasn't the city's newest or even the most
prestigious high school, but its location in a quiet suburb of
Tokyo with easy access to the subway system made it a reasonable
choice.
     Where the other schools were highly reluctant, Furinkan's
principal sounded oddly excited at the prospect of an American
attending his school, although he expressed some disappointment
that the student wasn't from Hawaii.  Jeff's parents couldn't
imagine why that was so important to the man but chalked it up to
a normal Japanese obsession with the American island state.

     His first day began on a warm June morning, sunny and dry.
The type of morning that could make even a reluctant student glad
to be walking to school.  The fresh early-summer air was filled
with a promise of new adventure.
     With a satisfied sigh, Jeff Lawrence exited Nerima's subway
station and trudged alone down the street past the wide concrete
drainage canal that ran through the center of town.
Occasionally, small groups of students passed him, glancing his
way only out of curiosity.  None ever initiated a greeting,
although they returned his, formally and without much conviction.
It was like they couldn't understand why he was there.  Walking
alone, he experienced the ultimate paradox; isolation in a
country of 125 million people.  He wasn't just a 'nail sticking
up' but a whole box of nails rattling its way down the street,
attracting attention in a way only a Westerner could.
     Smiling through all this was difficult.  Despite his
certainty that this was the right thing to do, he just couldn't
shake the feeling he was going somewhere he didn't belong.  The
reactions of his soon-to-be classmates seemed to confirm that
view.  With increasing unease, he tried to figure out why the
passing students gave him such a feeling.  He had always heard
that Japanese students were warmly curious about Westerners in
their school.  These Furinkan students reacted to him like he was
an undercover cop or something.
     It couldn't have been because of his attire; he was wearing
the correct school uniform.  His mother had seen to that.  At
barely six feet, he wasn't especially tall or large by Western
standards.  He wasn't even oddly colored.  His dark hair and deep
tan made him visually similar - from a distance, at least.
Perhaps it was his joining the school at mid-term.  He knew how
the Japanese disliked things that disrupted their carefully
crafted sense of order and a foreign student in their class would
most certainly be a disruption, no matter how hard he tried to
fit in.  In any case, this wasn't starting out the way he
envisioned.
     As he continued to walk, the imposing facade of Furinkan
Senior High School emerged from behind the many trees on the
school grounds.  Built in the late 50's, it represented the best
of Japanese bureaucratic architecture; imposing, functional, and
looking totally out of place next to all the neighborhood wood
and stucco structures.  The main tower held a large clock that
read: 8:15.  Plenty of time.
     "Looks okay for a public school," he mused softly, stepping
through the school's main gate and glancing around.  "At least
it's not run-down like some American inner-city school."
     Approaching the front doors, he noticed a large number of
male students dressed in all manner of sporting gear gathered in
small groups off to the side.
     He figured it must be some kind of sports day activity
promoting their specific club and reminded himself he needed to
sign up for something.  Maybe if he was part of a school club or
team, he could gain a degree of acceptance.
     For the most part, the rest of the crowd only eyed him in
silence.  Occasionally, however, a person would mutter: "gaijin".
     Jeff tried not to show he heard but it was difficult having
the most hated title in Japan applied to him.  Used originally to
describe any outsider, it had come to mean any undesirable non-
Japanese person.  His mouth felt dry and he instinctively
swallowed, trying not to show any reaction.  This was what his
father warned him about and what his mother feared.  This was
what he mentally prepared the last week for.  Whatever happened,
he told himself, he would endure what was necessary in the hopes
he could eventually overcome the stigma.  Nothing would provoke
him into becoming an "ugly American" in this school, he vowed.
     That, however, didn't last long.
     Allowing his young hormones a loose rein at the sight of
attractive high school females leaning on the sills of the upper
floor windows, Jeff made his first, and almost fatal, mistake.
He collided with an imposing male student dressed in a Japanese
sword-man's traditional gear complete with super-loose trousers
and a deadly looking wooden bokkan.
     "Clumsy whelp!" the swordsman shouted as he spun around to
face Jeff.  "By the grace of heaven.  A filthy gaijin and dressed
in one of our school uniforms.  Oh, what evil we must have
committed for the gods laugh at us with such an offering."
     Jeff held his tongue but watched carefully the way this
fellow waved his wooden samurai sword as he spoke.  It looked
dangerous.
     "What are you dressed for, you ugly monkey?  Halloween is
months away," Jeff muttered in English before catching himself
and glancing around, hoping no one understood the language well
enough to translate his insult.
     Figuring now was not the best time to start trouble, he
tried a simple apology in Japanese.  Bowing respectfully, he
issued his regrets at the incident - making sure he assumed all
blame for being so clumsy.  With a second bow, he courteously
asked where the main office was located.
     All he got for his trouble was a round of laughter from the
assembled males.  Still bent over, Jeff scowled at the ground and
pursed his lips.  This public school stuff was tougher than he
thought.
     "He knows our customs and speaks our language.  I,
Upperclassman Tatewaki Kuno, think we should humor the gaijin as
a reward."  Kuno raised his bokkan and was immediately answered
by a strange crash of thunder and bolt of lightning that
ominously crossed the sky overhead.
     Jeff raised one eyebrow and scanned the skies discreetly.
How on earth did he do that?  There's not a cloud in the sky.
     "She's coming!" came a shout from near the gate.  Suddenly
he was no longer the center of attention.
     "The destination you seek is inside these doors and to your
right.  Now begone, I have other matters to attend to."
     With that Jeff felt sufficiently dismissed to start for the
door.  Kuno's wooden sword flat across his chest indicated
otherwise.
     "But mark this well, gaijin.  The vengeance of heaven is
slow.  Were it not for my preoccupation with a matter of great
importance on this spring morn, I would provide you with an
education unlike any other in the manners and respect due an
upperclassman.  Tatewaki Kuno will remember you."
     "Really?  I am sooooo lucky," Jeff responded sarcastically
in English while reminding himself to shut up and get moving.  No
sense in pressing his luck.
     But he was never one to take an insult lying down.  Opening
the massive school front door, he looked back over his shoulder
and added in Japanese: "By the way, nice pants.  There's a girl
over at the French Embassy with a pair just like them."
     With that, he slipped inside glancing back in time to catch
Kuno's glare through the glass.

     The rest of his morning went smoothly.  Except for a
disturbance out front of the school which drew a sizable crowd,
everything seemed normal.  He didn't get a good look at what
caused the commotion but saw enough of the aftermath to conclude
it must have been a dandy rumble between rival gangs.  He filed
away for future reference a warning to be careful of high school
gangs.  After all, this WAS a public school.
     As luck would have it, he found himself in the same class as
his earlier nemesis, Tatewaki Kuno, who seemed determined to
spend the entire day glaring at him.  He once tried a friendly
smile but got only a disgusted look in return.
     Glancing around the room, he caught the curious stares of
his classmates and tried returning each with a smile and friendly
nod.  It didn't seem to have an effect on the guys but the girls
quickly turned away and giggled among themselves.  With a sigh,
he shook his head and squirmed for a more comfortable position in
a school desk not meant for Westerners or anyone else his size.
     During one of his visual forays around the room, his eyes
caught on a small group of girls up front; the most interesting
among them, a bored looking young lady with shorter brown hair
who seemed to be the center of activity.  Like a queen bee, she
sat waiting as her little worker bees buzzed about, disappearing
from the room and returning to her desk with what looked like
money and small slips of paper.  With an amused chuckle, he
fought the urge to ask someone if she was the local bookie or
loan shark.  What an absurd notion, he thought.  There are no
high school bookies.  Not even in public high schools.
    In any case, the shorter girl with the long hair was kind of
cute and she always smiled at him when she passed.  He found that
encouraging.  At least, until the young lady with the shorter
brown hair said something to her and glared his way.  Obviously,
he was disrupting something important.

     "Is that the new student?" Sayuri whispered to her two
compatriots.  They all eyed the new boy as he sat at one of the
desks, looking around their classroom.
     "Hmmm.  Not bad for a gaijin," Yuka remarked as she swept
her long hair clear of one ear.
     "Are you kidding?  He's not bad for a guy of any kind,"
Sayuri added catching the gaijin's look and returning a shy
giggle.  "Think he's rich?"
     "Aren't all Americans?"  Sayuri stifled a giggle of her own.
     Nabiki Tendo, seated at her desk, her chin supported on her
fist, eyed the stranger critically through half open eyes.  She
had been watching him ever since he walked onto the school
grounds.  Until now, she'd reserved her thoughts.  In a soft
voice that sounded lethal, she said: "In any case, I think he
deserves a thorough checking."  Eyeing him again, she muttered to
herself: "Whoever you are, Mister Gaijin, your money is mine."

     At lunch, Jeff quickly discovered just how much of an
outsider he was.  Despite the traditional Japanese reputation for
being good hosts, mealtime at Furinkan proved to be an exception.
No one openly welcomed him to join them, not even the girls -
especially, the girls.  They would look at him with blank
expressions when he approached, then break into giggly
conversation.  Obviously, at his expense.  They didn't refuse him
a place to sit, just made it clear he was intruding.  Naturally,
he decided not to force himself on them.
     Since it was a nice day and there seemed to be lots of
activities going on outside, he gathered his Western-style sack
lunch and wandered outside to eat.  Nobody said anything when he
did, so he figured it must be okay.  With all the benches
occupied, he decided to sit under a shady tree nearby as he ate.
From such a vantage point he was able to catch some of the school
gossip by eavesdropping on the various conversations that drifted
his way from girls occupying the benches.  The most common theme
was about how Upperclassman Kuno jumped out a third floor window
yesterday chasing some character that got too close to his girl.
     Swallowing a bite of his sandwich, Jeff made another mental
note to find out who this chick was and avoid her like the
plague.  The last thing he needed was a stick-wielding wacko
chasing him around because he said 'hi' to the wrong girl.

     The rest of the day went quietly, or at least sufferably.
It was all so much different than he imagined.  He had made no
friends or even acquaintances.  The teachers were cold and remote
- certainly nothing like the embassy teachers he was used to.
Worst of all, not a single female indicated even the slightest
interest in him.  All things considered, this was *not* how Jeff
envisioned public high school - Japanese or otherwise.
     He was beginning to have second thoughts about this whole
Japanese public school thing when he made a major breakthrough.
Another student, judging by his attire an equal 'outsider',
actually said 'hi' to him.  What's more, they even enjoyed a
short conversation.  True, it was mostly about that 'baka' Kuno,
but under the circumstances, any conversation was worth it's
weight in gold.  Unfortunately, it was equally true that the
other student acted as if he wished to remain remote and detached
from the gaijin he was talking to.  Still, they *were* talking.
That was something.
     Much to Jeff's dismay, just after the two went their
separate ways, he discovered that he forgot to find out just who
it was he had been talking to.  All he could remember was the kid
wore his hair in a pig tail and had on some strange Chinese-style
red and black outfit.
     For the rest of the day, Jeff chastised himself over his
error.  Combined with his earlier mistake, it made for a very
unhappy afternoon.  Almost getting wacked by the local stick-
wielding head case was bad enough, but failing to get the name of
the only person willing to talk to him was far worse.  Proper
protocol demanded he remember names.  Wouldn't look good the next
time they met.
     On the other hand, at least he didn't run into Kuno a second
time.  One encounter with Mr. Blue Thunder was enough for the
first day.

     Arriving home Jeff dropped his book bag on the hall chair
and slipped into the kitchen to see what was available.  Like any
normal teenager, he was always hungry.
     "How was school, dear?" his mother asked while reviewing the
guest list for an upcoming embassy function.
     "Well..... I didn't get killed, I understood most of what
was said, and I failed to meet any of the girls in my class.  All
things considered, it was okay."  Jeff snuck a few cookies from
the cookie jar to go with his glass of juice.
     "That's nice dear," his mom droned.  She was so out of it
when it came to his activities.  Not that she was a bad mother or
anything.  Constantly being asked to assume more and more of the
day-to-day operations of the embassy kept her running almost as
hard as his father.
     "Where's Dad?" Jeff asked, certain he wasn't going to like
the answer.
     "Down in Kure, dear.  Something to do with a cultural
exchange.  He'll be back by Friday."
     Great, Jeff thought.  Just when he want to talk to the old
man, he skips town.  Typical.
     Jeff never really got along with his father.  Not that they
fought or anything.  They just rarely had anything to say to each
other.  Which worked out okay for both.  That is, until Jeff
started noticing girls.  Then, he had more questions than he
could handle.  And he couldn't talk to his mother about such
things.  There was no way she would understand.
     That left just his dad.  As neither was a master of father-
son communications, such personal talks usually led to
conversational dead ends.  This often left Jeff more frustrated
than before and having to rely on his only other source for
information on girls; members of the Marine Guard Detachment or
certain trusted members of the Japanese staff.
     "I'm goin to practice now, Mom.  I'll be back by 10," he
called from the front hall.  He needed time to figure out who
would give him the best answers while remaining discreet.
     "Have fun, dear," his mother's voice carried from the
kitchen.
     Jeff wondered just how much she actually heard.  With an
audible sigh, he grabbed his workout bag and opened the front
door.  He didn't want to be late.  His instructor would be
particularly hard on him if he was late.  Not that he ever let
Jeff coast through practice anyway.
     For five years in England, he found himself in the care of
an old Shinobi master: Massake Sato.  The Shinobi people spawned
the legendary shadow warriors - ninjas in the West.
     Jeff never knew exactly how he came to Master Sato's care,
he always assumed it was something his parents wanted for him.
As a child, he rarely rebelled against the decisions of his
parents.  Over time, it became his desire as well.
     Master Sato's training method was unusual.  Unlike other
martial arts instructors, he refused to use training weapons and
pads, opting instead for the real things.  He insisted that
warrior training that does not face actual danger is not true
warrior training at all, but merely a desire to play at being
bold.  Jeff had the scars to prove it.
     Early in his training back In England, Jeff faced things
that would have horrified his parents.  He hung over the edge of
sheer cliffs supported only by ropes he himself tied.  He stood
for long periods of time in freezing pools pummeled by ice cold
waterfalls in order to teach him how to focus.  He learned his
limits and his abilities.  By the time he left England, there was
little he could face that would frighten him beyond action.
     In spite of all this, his training was incomplete.
Conquering his fear was only the first goal of ninjutsu training.
Guile and deception was the second.  Fighting would come later.
     Once in Japan, he received a strange message from Master
Sato.  The venerable master was not going to teach him the ways
of the shadow warrior until he learned some basic fighting
skills.  He was directed to someone fully trusted in the Shinobi
community, Soun Tendo.
     Jeff assumed the embassy security office had approved of
Soun Tendo.  They were usually careful to check out anyone who
had regular dealings with members of the embassy staff and their
dependents.  Tendo-sensei must have passed their background
checks.
     In the legation community, kids' hobbies were encouraged to
give them a sense of continuity, making their inevitable
relocation easier.  To the folks at the American Embassy, Jeff
Lawrence was simply another dependent with a hobby.  No one
seemed concerned that only ten years before, the Tendo School was
shut down.
     He had been meeting with Tendo-sensei a couple of times a
week for almost 5 years.  Much of the training was little more
than standard kempo.  Hardly the stuff of ninja legends.  He
never asked and Soun never offered anything about the Tendo
family.  Jeff knew the man was a widower but little else.
     That all changed when they moved their training to the
family's little dojo.  One evening, they were joined by another
student, a little dark haired stick of dynamite called Akane.
She moved with such grace and power, effortlessly gliding from
one kata to another, that Jeff found himself unable to
concentrate.  Once, when he was so distracted by her, Tendo-
sensei drove home the need for concentration by a sharp 'wack' to
his head.  Only her uncharacteristic grin while continuing her
kata confirmed she saw what happened.
     Jeff rubbed the spot on his chest when he remembered how,
after his session was over, he dared to approach her and ask if
she wanted to go out for a soda or something.  Her reaction was
totally unexpected.  She kicked him across the room.  He never
saw her again.  Much to his relief.


     Nabiki called her usual sources of information and was most
disappointed in the results.
     "What do you mean, you can't find anything on him?" Nabiki
shouted incredulously into the phone.  "That's impossible!
Everyone has a financial trail."
     "My feet are not big!" came Akane's voice from her room down
the hall.
     "Well, they're big for a girl."
     The sound of Ranma and Akane arguing usually had little
effect on Nabiki any more.  But for some reason the background
sounds of a growing fight in Akane's room was an irritant this
evening.
     The voice at the other end of the line confirmed they were
unable to find anything on Jeffrey Lawrence.  His father, yes,
but nothing on Jeff himself.  And there were no other living
relatives on his branch of his family tree.  In short, there was
Jeff, a low-paid government employee father, and a void
thereafter.  The voice went on to ask if she wanted them to check
for dead relatives.
     "Are you nuts!" Nabiki growled at the suggestion.  "What
kind of ghoul do you take me for?  If he had gotten any money
from dead relatives it would be obvious in his own record.
Honestly, I sometimes wonder just how you people stay in
business."
     Nabiki hung up the phone totally confused.  "Impossible!"
she repeated to herself several times.  "Why would there be no
record of Jeff Lawrence?  EVERYONE has a record."
     "Nabiki-chan, if you're done with the phone, could I borrow
it for a moment?" Akane asked as she stepped out of her room.
     "Yeah, sure.  Go ahead."
     "Thanks."  Akane took the phone from her sister and
disappeared back into her room.
     He could be ultra rich, Nabiki thought a thin smile.  The
idea gave her a warm, satisfied feeling.  Above all else, she
wanted to be rich.  Sure, she valued a guy's looks and
personality too, but his net worth or potential worth was clearly
the deciding factor.  She had contacts in all the financial
institutions in Japan that could dig out a boy's status in a
matter of minutes or project his potential earnings in a few
more.  This was the first time she failed on all counts.
     Nabiki paused at the top of the stairs.  A loud argument
could be heard coming from Akane's room.  From the sounds of
things, Ranma was trying to back-track on his observations about
the size of Akane's feet.  Akane, however, was in little mood for
such discussions.
     "Baka!" Nabiki chided herself with a shake of her head.  "If
he were THAT wealthy, what would he be doing at my dump of a
school?  Sheesh, girl have you totally lost your mind?"
     She carefully ran through her sources again and found no
obvious gaps.  This mystery was going to take more work.  She
didn't like mysteries and this 'Jeffrey Lawrence' person was a
big one.


     As usual, Sensei Tendo worked Jeff to the breaking point.
What was quite out of the ordinary was how Jeff showed just
enough ineptness to frustrate his sensei.  Still, it was uncanny
how the guy knew how far he could push a student before letting
up.
     This evening there was another man in the dojo.  He appeared
to be the same age as Sensei Tendo and spent all evening long
sitting on his heels in the corner of the room watching Jeff's
every move.  Jeff didn't especially like being watched, it made
him nervous and this guy made him exceptionally nervous.  He had
the air of a master of the arts and looked the part too.  Big and
burly, with little wire rimmed glassed secured to his face with,
what looked like, rubber bands.  For three hours, he remained
motionless as Jeff went through drill after drill.  Not even the
sound of someone being thrown out of a second floor window at the
residence had the slightest affect on him.
     In frustration, Tendo-sensei halted a drill.  With his back
to the stranger, he formed a Shinobi sign of questioning.  Jeff
shifted his eyes quickly to the stranger then back to his sensei.
Soun Tendo immediately understood and class resumed.
     [Stranger present.  Conceal, deceive, evade.]
     At the end of the evening, Jeff made sure to acknowledge the
other man's presence by bowing politely before leaving.  To his
relief, the man responded.
     "A moment, Jeff-san," Tendo-sensei said looking at the other
man.  "I want to introduce you to an old friend of mine, Genma
Saotome."
     Jeff bowed respectfully and added: "The honor is mine,
sensei."
     For the first time the stranger spoke: "How do you know I am
a teacher of martial arts?"
     Jeff smiled slightly.  Personal observation had long been a
strong suit of his.  Often he could pick out the most important
person at an embassy affair or meeting by simply watching them.
His father said it was valuable gift that would serve him will in
the diplomatic corps (not that he ever really wanted anything to
do with the diplomatic corps).  He could also detect weaknesses
in opponents whether on the athletic field or in a poker game and
often used it to his advantage.  He couldn't explain how he did
it.  But then, many of the things Jeff acquired from Master Sato
were beyond explanation.
     "Your ki, sensei," Jeff lied quietly.
     [Reveal nothing, observe everything.]
     "You have an aura of complete control of your environment.
Ichi masu, the first law, ne?"
     Jeff instinctively quoted something he had learned from old
Master Sato in England.  He almost regretted having said it when
Saotome and Tendo exchanged odd looks.
     "You quote a venerable book, young one," Mr. Saotome said
with a hard look.
     There was an awkward pause.  Jeff had just committed one of
the most unpardonable sins of Shinobi life; he had inadvertently
revealed his knowledge of their ways to an outsider.  Such was
often the start of a clan's betrayal.
     Soun Tendo, sensing Jeffrey's predicament, rescued him with
a little diversion of his own.  He chuckled lightly causing Mr.
Saotome to shoot him a questioning look.
     "Perhaps I should explain.  Lawrence-san reads too much.  He
came to me with his head filled with stories of ninjas and
samurai.  He has yet to learn the path of a true martial artist.
As a favor to an old friend, I have been teaching him traditional
kempo so he could find the path to our pure art."
     "I see,"  Mr. Saotome's voice rumbled ominously - like a
large volcano before it explodes.  "You move well for a
Westerner... too well.  I wonder if you have ever been tested.
Perhaps you need a more challenging workout, boy."
     For some reason, Soun Tendo slowly stepped aside.  Out of
the corner of his eye, Jeff could see the look of curious
detachment on his sensei's face.  Something was going to happen.
     Part of Jeff's ability to detect emotions allowed him to
sense danger and his mind was positively screaming warnings now.
As Mr. Saotome's eyes once again fixed on the young American,
Jeff got the uncomfortable feeling that he was about to be tested
in a most unpleasant manner.
     Like a cat, Mr. Saotome sprang at the young student, a sharp
cry announcing the fingers of his right hand aimed for Jeff's
throat.  Without thinking, Jeff dropped, shifted his weight, and
using his opponent's momentum against him, whipped the older man
across the room as easily as if he were a rag doll; a fairly
basic move any first year student could easily accomplish.  Mr.
Saotome rolled upon landing and immediately launched a flying
kick at Jeff's head.  Jeff, assuming a typical ninjutsu fighting
pose, had expected such a follow up but not this fast.
     It had been long time since he'd been in a real fight.  So
long that he had forgotten just how fast things can happen.  This
time, he waited too long.  The first blow caused him to see
stars.  The second sent him spinning across the dojo, ending flat
on his back.
     Well, THAT was stupid, he thought while trying to clear his
vision.  Not only had he forgotten how fast things could happen
in a fight but he also forgot how much it hurt getting hit.
     If he was hoping Mr. Saotome was through for the evening,
the sight of a bare foot heading for his face convinced him
otherwise.
     "Whoa, Jesus!!" Jeff muttered as he rolled out of the way.
This was going worse than usual.  As fights go, he was clearly on
the defensive and running for his life.
     Stunned by how fast the big man could move, Jeff's mind
rapidly slipped towards disorganized panic.
     It was then he remembered more of Mr. Sato's words: [Fear
and panic are a shadow warrior's greatest allies and his worst
enemies.  Embrace them as your allies and your power will be
magnified.]
     It wasn't easy, considering the big man's relentless
attacks, but he eventually calmed himself and moved to minimize
Mr. Saotome's obvious advantage in speed and aggressiveness.
Focusing solely on identifying and countering his opponent's
attacks, he was just able to deflect them while constantly
moving, avoiding the man's relentless assaults.
     Eventually, he escaped to in front of the open panels
leading outside.  For the moment, he had established his ability
to fight Genma Saotome to a standstill - partially.
     [When victory is without reward, stalemate is acceptable.]
     As the defeat of Mr. Saotome would accomplish nothing
positive, he switched to Plan B; getting Sensei Tendo involved.
     [Allies come in many forms.  All should be used.]
     Sliding back towards the door slightly and closer to Soun
Tendo, he positioned himself.  This would take precise timing to
make it look right.  It also depended on Tendo-sensei being quick
enough.
     Assuming an almost laughably inept looking pose, he calmly
awaited Genma Saotome's next attack.
     When it came, his preparation had the desired effect.  To
anyone watching, he looked like an easy kill.  Soun Tendo must
have agreed.  As Genma's jump kick attack fully developed, Soun
reached out faster than the eye could follow, grabbed Jeff by the
collar, and yanked him out of the way.  Landing in a heap on the
floor, Jeff had just enough time to catch what happened next.
     Mr Saotome, startled by the sudden displacement of his
opponent, missed badly.  Now out of control, his momentum aided
in no small part by Soun Tendo's swift kick, Genma passed through
the open panel, over the balcony and, with wildly waving arms,
landed with a tremendous splash in a tub of rainwater.
     "I always wanted to do that," Mr. Tendo mumbled before
turning to Jeff.  "I believe that is enough for tonight, young
warrior.  You did... an acceptable job."  He was obviously
looking for something positive to say, especially about the last
action.  He must have been convinced that Jeff was caught cold
turkey and would have been spattered all over his dojo had he not
pulled the young man out of harm's way.
     In truth, all went according to Jeff's plan.  He knew Sensei
Tendo wouldn't allow anything to happen to him.  He also knew
defeating Genma Saotome would be pointless and possibly
dangerous.  His solution was to simply allow himself to be yanked
out of the fight by his sensei.  The part about the tub was a
bonus.
     However, to Soun Tendo, there remained one last question to
be answered.  "A trained martial artist would never have allowed
himself to be so exposed as your last position.  I am curious.
Why?"
     "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time?"  Jeff
was being evasive but reasonably honest.  He was just referring
to his plan instead of the last fighting stance.
     Mr. Tendo just sighed and placed a hand over his face,
probably to cover his frustrated embarrassment, then excused
himself to see to Mr. Saotome.
     Jeff bowed deeply to his sensei.  Then, like all Shinobi
warriors, he turned to the dojo's tiny shrine and gave a silent
prayer of thanks for coming away with his life.

     As Jeff packed his things, he thought back to old Master
Sato in England.  He remembered how the man could simply
'appear', as if out of nowhere.  Maybe he really was a master of
the ancient arts.  Maybe he was telling the truth about the
ancient Shinobi clans.  Maybe there was something to all the
ninja talk.
     He fondly recalled his sessions with Master Sato.  Never
knowing exactly why he was being taught by such a strange little
old man, he nevertheless embraced the opportunity.
     The training itself was strange, in a Western sense.
Quickly, and sometimes brutally, his childhood was stripped from
him.  In five years he was subjected to rigorous spiritual
training sessions with Master Sato, usually followed by long
tales from ancient Japan.  Most were interesting, some were
boring, but all related a great deed performed by an ancient
Shinobi master and contained some pearl of wisdom or reason for a
technique.
     While he never proved to be a superior student in the other
parts of his Shinobi training, he did excel at throwing things;
shuriken, caltrops, even the tanto.  Being somewhat of a loner,
he had lots of time to practice.  That practice led to some of
his best times in England.
     Despite his young age, he developed a bad habit of haunting
the family pubs and winning small amounts of cash from strangers
by playing darts.  He was good at it.  Good enough that people
started to bet on his matches.  In time, the stakes grew.
Sometimes, the gambling would exceed a weeks salary of the
average bettor.  Even under such pressure, he continued to win,
improving with each match.  It was good fun, until word got out
and his opponents dried up.
     Unfortunately, Master Sato found out and quickly put a stop
to it.  Jeff was being trained as a Shinobi.  Not as an
entertainer.  He would have to demonstrate better control if he
wished to continue.  Typically, Jeff complied.
     His thoughts shifted to the last night in England when, in
an emotional and deeply moving ceremony, Master Sato made him a
member of his Shinobi clan.  He wasn't a shadow warrior (he was
clearly not ready for that), but a member of the old man's noble
family.  It was like being adopted.  Jeff still wore the small
clan symbol on a chain around his neck, an honor he never sought
nor felt qualified to hold.  Nevertheless, it was something he
was determined never to disgrace.
     In spite of all this, there were still parts of this
arrangement that left him uneasy.  He knew of all the Western
stories about ninjas, how they were night stalkers and assassins.
Hollywood never treated the Shinobi warriors with much respect,
but then they never seemed to treat anyone with much respect.
     "Not me," he repeated out loud to the empty dojo.  "I may be
a lot of things, but an assassin is not one of them."
     Pulling from his bag a 6 inch long shuriken shaped like a
common pencil, he twirled it with his finger tips as he looked
around the dojo.  He especially liked the shuriken.  He used to
practice for hours throwing from different positions, inventing
little games to amuse himself, until his aim was deadly.
     His eye caught on a white paper fan mounted on one of the
dojo's vertical beams about 20 feet away.  In the middle of the
fan was a red rising sun the size of a quarter.  Jeff smiled and
turned away from the fan.  With practiced skill, he quickly spun
around, dropped to one knee and flung his projectile at the
target.  Silently, his deadly metal weapon flew straight and
true, imbedding itself in the exact center of the red dot.
     "Still got it," he said to himself with a satisfied grin.
He wondered if there were any pubs around.  He could stand to
make a few yen.

     Jeff's evening did not go unobserved.  Outside, peeking
through a back window, was a very interested bystander.  Nabiki
Tendo had taken an interest in this strange gaijin with an
indecipherable past.  She was especially curious how this gaijin
was tied to her father.
     Of course, there were other reasons for her interest.  When
she was getting started in the snooping and spying business, she
checked into her mother's background.  What she found almost made
her give up snooping forever.  Her mother had come to live with
her relatives when very young; this much they all knew.  It was
where she came from that was most startling.
     Her mother was born to an ancient mountain family well known
for their shadow warrior connections.  In Japan, Shinobi shadow
warriors, or Ninjas, were no invention of overactive
imaginations.  They were legendary in their skills at fighting,
deception, and guile.  Like moss on a rock, myths grew around the
truth about the shadow warriors until their perceived powers far
exceeded their real ones.  Of course, the Shinobi were content to
let the myths grow, it only increased their power and prestige.
If her mother was really part of a Shinobi clan, it would explain
a lot.  It would explain why her father, who had given up
teaching upon the death of his wife, would return to the dojo
with a new student.  Only one thing could compel him to do so; a
Shinobi clan obligation.  That would also explain a lot about
Jeff Lawrence.  Somehow, he was mixed up in this Shinobi clan
business.  How, she didn't know but was determined to find out.
     Normally avoiding the dojo, as she had no interest in
martial arts, Jeff's presence drew her to her concealed position
to get a better look at this fellow who had no financial trail
and who just happened to be trained by her father.  She didn't
believe in coincidences.  There had to be a reason.
     She watched him practice but was unimpressed.  Even Akane
could move better than that.
     She saw the fight and correctly rated it as: Pathetic.  She
hoped he would avoid trouble at all costs.  Otherwise, someone
might just plant him before she could dig up all his dirt.
     Finally, she saw his little act with the shuriken.  WHOA!
Maybe he's better than he lets on.  Perhaps, this gaijin is more
than he appears.  Maybe, he really is, somehow, mixed up with one
of the clans.  He could be taking the lessons from Daddy,
practicing on his own, and still appear to be only average in the
dojo to cover his real abilities.
     Nabiki knew of the Shinobi skill at deception.  They were
masters at concealing their true identities.  If this Jeffrey
person was part of a Shinobi clan, his presence must mean
something important.  She wondered if her father knew what.
     She was about to leave her concealed location when Jeff
pulled off his gi jacket.
     This could get interesting, she thought, taking a quick
visual tour of his muscular body.
     Financial whiz or not, she was 17 and appreciated a good
male form as well as anyone.  Her usual sardonic smile grew into
a wistful grin as she memorized every exposed inch of his body -
making certain to fill in the other parts with her vivid
imagination.
     He was much better than those scrawny specimens at school,
she mused, watching his muscles flex while he toweled off.  If he
takes the pants came off, she was staying for sure.
     However, to her disappointment, he only donned a scarlet,
light weight t-shirt that read: 'USMC - When It Absolutely,
Positively Has To Be Killed Overnight', packed his bag and
started to leave.
     Darn!

     With a satisfied grunt, Jeff slung his bag over a shoulder
and sauntered towards the main gate.  He knew he was being
watched and followed.  He also knew, that whoever it was,
presented no danger to him at all.  A small smile creased his
face as made his way to the gate.
     His eyes remained forward but his trained senses probed
cautiously.  It was a she, he was convinced of that much, and not
a trained stalker.  Probably just one of the children that live
at the Tendos, he figured.  Kids are always curious about
Westerners.
     He wasn't far from the gate when a movement near the side of
the Tendo residence caught his eye.  It was dark and there were
many shadows, but he could have sworn he saw a large black and
white animal crawl over the engawa and into the house.
     "Man, these people have some weird pets," he said to himself
while exiting the main gate.


     When Jeff got home, he found his mother waiting up for him
along with a man Jeff recognized as an embassy legal counsel.
     Dropping his bag on a hall chair, he walked warily into the
living room.
     "Jeff, dear," his mother said quietly.  "This is Mr.
Wollenberg from the embassy."  She indicated the distinguished
looking man standing next to her.
     "Something wrong?" Jeff asked trying to appear calm and
unconcerned.
     "Nothing's wrong, young man," the lawyer replied. "In fact,
you might be pleased with my visit.  Why don't we sit down?"
     The lawyer moved to occupy a large chair across from the
sofa where Jeff and his mother nervously sat, waiting.  He dug
through his brief case for a few moments before producing a large
file of papers, many with official looking seals.  Adjusting his
glasses he looked at the Lawrences and smiled.  Jeff never liked
it when a lawyer smiled.  This one made him more nervous than Mr.
Saotome.
     "I have here the final will and testament of Ronald and Ruth
Phillips," he said looking through the pages for something.
     "Phillips?" Jeff looked to his mother to fill in the gaps.
     "Your grandparents, dear."  She gently placed a hand on his
arm.  "They died ten years ago when you were very little."
     "Oh yeah, Dad's parents, right?" he asked.  He didn't really
remember much about them other than they were nice to him when
they visited and always brought presents.
     Mrs. Lawrence nodded and smiled.  "As you probably know,
your father was the product of a previous marriage.  By the time
his mother remarried, he was in college and didn't want to change
his name.  Hence, our different family names."
     "I won't bore you with all the legal mumbo-jumbo," the
lawyer began.  "In accordance with the provisions of the will,
Mr. Jeffrey Lawrence will assume control of all the assets,
investments, and holdings of the estate of Ronald and Ruth
Phillips on his 18th birthday - some 8 months hence."
     Jeff sat stunned, frantically searching for a reason why
*he* would receive such a windfall, not his father.  "Why me?"
     "I can answer that."  His mother shifted nervously on the
sofa.  "Your father's step-father never understood your father's
refusal to follow his path in the business world."  She paused
with a soft sigh.  "As an only child, they hoped he would take an
interest in his step-father's profession but he instead chose to
follow his late father's academic calling and became a
professor."
     She hesitated again, like she was looking for the right
words.  "Your father felt that it was... wrong for one person to
have all that money and financial power."
     "He thought making money was wrong?" Jeff looked at the
lawyer who just shrugged his shoulders.  "What a bizarre
concept."
     "Anyway, your grandparents were very disappointed."  She
paused again with a sad smile.  "When you were born, they
naturally took steps to assure you would be the one to carry on.
I guess they saw it as an obligation."  Her eyes glistened as a
particularly moving memory revealed itself.  "With your father
gone so much of the time, I made the decision on my own to let
the training begin.  Everything you have been through since you
were 5 years old has been at their direction - and my approval.
The schooling you received, the trips you took,--"
     "Even Master Sato?"
     "Especially Master Sato.  You were the repayment of a very
great debt Mr. Sato's family owed your grandfather."
     Jeff stopped his mother right there.  Casting a quick glance
at the lawyer, he asked if he could be excused for a few moments.

     Mrs. Lawrence, catching her son's meaning, asked Mr.
Wollenberg if he would care for some good English tea.  The
lawyer looked up from his papers like he wasn't aware they were
leaving and nodded.
     Jeff led the way into their kitchen.  He wasn't all that
certain he really wanted to know the whole story.  He already had
enough problems with school and all.  Adding money to that mix
would only make things harder on him.
     Closing the door, Jeff asked: "Now, what's all this about
Master Sato?"
     Jeff's mother lightly settled into one of the kitchen chairs
and began her story.  "Your grandfather was an Army Intelligence
officer during the war.  At war's end, he was tasked to find a
certain Japanese Army officer and bring him in for questioning.
During his search, he stumbled upon a crumbling village deep in
the mountains of Japan.  At first, he was tempted to simply
bypass it.  After all, he didn't think it was the place he was
looking for.  In fact, it wasn't even on the map.  There was so
much suffering and need in Japan at that time.  What was one more
village, more or less, to a conquering army?
     "But this village turned out to be exactly the place your
grandfather was seeking.  This village had provided an unusually
large number of Intelligence Officers for the Japanese Army.  Mr
Sato was the officer your grandfather was sent to find.  The war
crimes tribunal in Tokyo were determined to punish all those who
had plotted against the allies and Intelligence Officers were at
the forefront of those they wanted.
     "A sudden storm cut off the village for a few days and your
grandfather was forced to take shelter in Mr Sato's home.   Nobody
knows for sure what happened but by the time the road was
reopened, your grandfather was no longer interested in war crimes
tribunals.  Using his contacts, he obtained food, medicine, and
just about everything else the village needed to rebuild.  He
remained there for two months.  When he finally returned to
Tokyo, he was a different man.  Claiming he couldn't find Mr
Sato, he quickly submitted his resignation and returned to
America.
     "It was not long afterwards that he went into the investment
business with money that couldn't be traced.  There were rumors,
of course, about where it came from.  Some suggested he'd found
Japanese government gold somewhere in the mountains and converted
it to his own use.  But that proved to be false when all the
Japanese gold was accounted for later.  It also couldn't explain
how everything he invested in returned fabulous profits.  In ten
years, he'd become one of the wealthiest men in America and
quietly held controlling interest in many highly profitable
companies all over the world."

     Jeff considered his mother's story.  He'd never heard this
before.  "So, Grandpa was helped by Master Sato's people?" he
asked.
     "In many ways, they helped each other," she replied.  "It is
said that much of the money he made went back to Mr Sato's
people.  Soon, they were all so wealthy they no longer needed to
live in seclusion.  Mr Sato and your grandfather became good
friends.  I believe that is why he made you a member of his
clan."
     "You know about that?" Jeff gasped, his hand instinctively
going to the small medallion he wore around his neck.
     His mother blushed and she looked away.  "I know many things
about you - probably more things than a mother should.  You are
special, not just because you're my son but because of what
Master Sato gave you."
     "But mother, I never finished the training."
     "I know, dear," she said quietly.  "That was your father's
doing, I'm afraid.  He didn't hold with all this 'Shinobi'
business.  That's why we transferred."  She paused, a genuinely
sad look came over her face.  "It was the first serious fight we
ever had."
     Jeff, naturally, was uncomfortable with the thought of his
parents fighting over anything.  Their fighting over him was
especially unsettling.
     "Ironic, isn't it," he observed after a long silence.  "We
left England to get away from Master Sato, and the State
Department sends us to Japan."
     Jeff's mom looked at him for a long time.  He got the
feeling she wanted to tell him something very important but
couldn't.  He knew better than to press the issue.
     "Your father really does love you, Jeff.  It just doesn't
always show."
     Jeff had never been particularly close to his father.  He
now knew why.  They were about as different as any son could be
from his father.  They rarely talked and only recently had Jeff
indicated any desire to ask his father anything.  His mother, on
the other hand, was always available, always there for him,
always understanding of his troubles, hopes, and fears - even
when it appeared she was preoccupied.
     For a few minutes, only the ticking of a wall clock broke
the silence.  Never were two people so close together in the same
room but so far away at the same time.  Jeff suddenly had a
strong desire to talk with his venerable master once again.
     "We better get back," his mother suggested as she stood up
to leave.
     "Mom," Jeff said, stopping in the doorway.  "The tea."
     With an embarrassed smile, she quickly prepared the lawyer's
tea and the two returned to the living room.
     "I guess we're talking about some serious money here.  Just
how much is all this worth?" Jeff asked as they settled back on
the sofa.
     Mr. Wollenberg flipped through a few other pages before
answering.  "Oh... It's hard to say exactly.  I would guess
around a billion or more.  It's really hard to put an exact
figure on it because so much is tied up in the net worth of so
many companies.  I can try to get a more precise accounting for
you if you wish?"
     Billion or more?  Jeff only knew financial figures in the
low hundreds - about the size of his savings account.
Astronomical sums such as those called for in the will were
unimaginable.  "Mom, this could all become... difficult for me.
If word of this were to get out..."  He paused searching for the
right words.
     His mother gently rested a hand on his and smiled sadly.  "I
know, honey.  We tried to talk you out of this Japanese high
school thing of yours.  We know you only wanted a regular high
school experience with regular kids... and to meet girls your own
age."
     Jeff blushed at the floor.  It was true, of course, but
embarrassing when stated out loud - especially by his mother.
     Mrs. Lawrence sensed her son's embarrassment and offered an
alternative.  "I guess public schools do serve a purpose, of
sorts.  Perhaps, its not too late to enroll in a nice
international high school.  At least there you'll meet nice young
girls who aren't so Japanese in their values."
     "I hate to quit just yet," Jeff said still looking at the
floor.  "I mean, today I actually made a friend... well, I think
so anyway."
     His mother seemed to caress him with her eyes - the way only
a mother could.  "Well, we'll let it go until the end of the
term.  If things are still difficult for you then, we'll transfer
you to St. Mary's or American International or something."
     "As for word of all this getting out," the Mr. Wollenberg
said with a wave of his hand. "Not to worry, young man.
Everything is currently listed by proxy; sort of a blind trust.
Until you turn 18, the only way anyone could find out that you
are the eventual beneficiary would be to see the will itself."
He smiled.  "And I have ways of preventing that."
     Jeff frowned at the lawyer.  "Why would you do that for me?"
     Mr Wallenberg chuckled.  "Your late grandfather and I were
good friends.  We went through a lot together.  He was always
there for me when I needed him, so you could say this is my way
of repaying his kindness."  He sighed and smiled self-consciously.
"Young man, I don't really expect you to understand
this but even lawyers have a sense of loyalty - especially to
someone like Ron.  If you're half the man he was, you'll be a
worthy custodian of his legacy."
     "A billion or more is quite a legacy.  It'll take some
work," Jeff noted.
     "I've been watching you since you came to Japan.  You have
so many of your grandfather's traits.  I'm confident you'll make
him proud."
     Jeff didn't remember much of the rest of the meeting.  He
was lost in his own thoughts.
     What if he *should* meet a girl?  What if she finds out
about his inheritance?  He wouldn't want to marry anyone under
those conditions.  How would he know if she was marrying him for
love or just trying to get hold of the money?
     He considered giving up the idea of meeting Miss Right for
now and wait until after college but that only brought him back
to the original dilemma.   Once the inheritance kicked in, there
would be no way of keeping it quiet.  Every girl he came in
contact with would be suspect.  This wasn't good - not good at
all.
     Jeff had trouble falling asleep that night, his mind was
working overtime.  He had confidence Mr. Wollenberg would do his
job and the inheritance would be safely shielded from prying
eyes.  For his own part, he'd have to extra careful.  One slip
and the word would get out.  He had to continue looking like a
poor son of a embassy staff member.  Otherwise, he could kiss
goodbye any chance of finding a girl who loved him for himself.
Not that he had anyone in mind.  Heck, he didn't even have any
prospects.  On that depressing thought, he drifted off to sleep.

     Nabiki was working late on the family books.  She had taken
her bath and was dressed in her pajamas.  She always worked
numbers better in her pajamas.
     At least they were in the black this month, she thought
while writing down the final balance.  Thank goodness for those
mystery deposits or they'd be in real trouble.
     She looked again at the pair of strange deposit slips she
was holding.  They were the same deposits the bank had reported
every month for the last two years.
     One was drawn on a large Tokyo bank, without notation as to
what investment account it was for.  When she asked her father,
he just said it was the monthly stipend from his late wife's
inheritance.  That's what it certainly looked like; money from an
account with her mother's name on it.  No matter how much she
tried, she couldn't disprove her father's claim.  Reluctantly,
she accepted the deposits without comment.
     The other set of deposits began arriving about the same time
this Jeff fellow started working out with her father.  These were
from a different bank in Tokyo.  Again, there was no notation as
to where they were from or why.  When asked, her father just
laughed and noted that they were a repayment of an old debt the
person couldn't pay for a long time.  Now that he was wealthy, he
could afford repayment.  Their anonymous nature was because he
wished to remain just so; nameless.  Again, they appeared to be
exactly what her father said they were, legitimate repayments of
a debt.
     Still, she didn't trust people - even her father.  It was
odd that no one at the bank could (or would) provide her with a
name to go with the account.  All they would tell her was the
account's number, something anyone could have gotten simply by
looking at the deposit slip.
     Together they appeared to make up a sizeable chunk of the
family's living expenses.
     "Just so long as the books balance," she said to herself
while stretching.  The family was in the black and the bank
agreed.  For now, that was all that mattered.

     The next day at school, Jeff missed the commotion out front
again.  He was quietly reading at his desk, twirling a pencil in
his fingers.  One minute surrounded by dozens of milling students
and the next he was totally alone as everyone had gathered at the
windows to watch the front lawn activities.  By the time Jeff
worked his way through the crowd at a window, all he saw were a
bunch of beat up students in various athletic garb being assisted
by their fellow students.
     This was becoming really weird.  Every morning, the same
thing happened.  One minute, everything was quiet and orderly.
The next, students rushed to the windows like a school of fish.
In moments, the whole thing was over with no indication from
anyone just what had taken place.
     He listened to the conversations afterwards but couldn't
make heads or tails of them.
     "They were just mowed down," one girl said.
     "You'd think they'd have learned by now," another replied.
     "Those guys are going about this the wrong way," offered one
fellow.
     "More coordination, that's the ticket," his companion
answered.
     None of this made any sense to Jeff and he was left further
in the dark than before.  Who was beating up all those athletes
and disappearing before he could get a good look?  More
importantly, why?

     Jeff was still pondering the unusual early morning
disturbance when a shadow fell over his desk.  Looking up, he was
surprised to see the strange girl with the short brown hair.
     "Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier," she said,
"I'm Nabiki Tendo."
     "Pleased to meet you, Tendo-san," he replied with as
respectable a bow as his cramped desk would allow.
     "Call me Nabiki."
     "I'm Jeffrey Lawrence."
     Nabiki smiled.  "Yes, I know."
     He figured he shouldn't have been surprised at that.  After
all, the teacher introduced him to the class when he first
arrived.
     "Tendo?" Jeff asked with raised eyebrows.  "Are you related
in any way to Soun Tendo, the martial arts instructor?"
     "He's my father."
     Jeff just nodded knowingly.  Eyeing her, he tried to match
the feelings he had the night before when he was being watched in
the dojo.  Yes, Nabiki could easily have been the person who was
spying on him as he changed into his street clothes.  He wondered
why.  Surely, she had no knowledge of his Shinobi background.
Perhaps she recognized him from class and was just curious about
his presence at the dojo.

     Nabiki leaned on his desk, her uniform skirt rising
sufficiently to expose her beautiful legs.  He caught her smile
when she noticed him eyeing them.
     "You're an American, right?"
     "My father works at the embassy."
     "How long have you been in Japan?"
     "Five years.  I was born in London."
     "Oh, how exciting.  I've always wanted to go to England,"
Nabiki said with a sweetness that almost convinced Jeff she was
sincere.  "It sounds like such an exciting place."
     "If you say so."
     "I'll bet you got to meet a lot of famous and influential
people there," she said, her head tilted slightly.
     "Not really.  Although I once got to meet the British Prime
Minister.  I shook her hand."  Jeff wondered why Nabiki was
asking about the people he'd met in England.  Or was England even
important in this discussion?  She was obviously looking for
something.  He had to buy time until he figured out what.
     "But your father is an influential member of the embassy
staff," she pressed before he could think of some other topic of
conversation.
     Jeff tried to hide his reaction to such probing.  "I suppose
so.  Why?  You want to negotiate a treaty or something?"
     "Oh no," she said defensively.  "I just think you're
interesting."
     "I see.  That would explain all the questions about my
father."  Jeff eyed Nabiki with a knowing grin.  There was no way
she couldn't know he was on to her.  Still, she covered it well.
     "I don't get to meet many Americans."  She turned profile
and fluffed her hair.  "Nerima is such a dreary little town.  Not
exciting like London or even New York."  She quickly turned her
head to regard him again.  "You ever been to New York?"
     "Only the airport, changing planes on my way elsewhere."
     "Hmmmm, I'll bet you get to fly a lot."
     "Not really.  Got nowhere to go."
     "Surely you must have relatives in America."
     "Of course.  I'm an American."
     "A handsome young man such as yourself must be related to
actors or bankers or industrialists of some sort."
     Jeff almost laughed out loud.  So that's what she was
looking for.  She was checking out his financial family tree.
Well, he could play along.  "Hmmmm, I think I had a relative who
owned a hardware store.  Is that what you're looking for?"
     Nabiki frowned.  "Nothing bigger?"
     "Well, it was a BIG hardware store."
     "I mean like a company or something."  Her voice had an edge
that could only come from impatience.
     "Hmmm, nope.  No companies in the family."
     Nabiki wore a disappointed expression as she shot him an odd
look.  "Nothing else?"
     "A couple were farmers in Michigan.  Something to do with
cows, I believe."
     "Cows," she repeated like she didn't believe what she was
hearing.
     "Yeah, you know; 'mooo', milk, and hamburgers."
     "Farmers," she repeated, a thinly disguised expression of
disdain on her face.
     Jeff decided to have a little fun with her.  "Of course,
they owned just about everything between Lansing and Battle
Creek.  Lived in big houses with swimming pools and their own
horse stables out back.  Quite the landed gentry."
     Nabiki's interest picked up considerably with the mention of
vast land holdings and big houses.  "Sounds wonderful," she said.
To her, farmers were grubby little people who scratched around in
the dirt.  Their homes were filthy little shacks with filthy
little wives caring for filthy little children playing in filthy
little yards with other filthy little children.  It all sounded
so... filthy.  American farmers were obviously of a higher social
order.
     Jeff wanted to determine her tolerance level for deep
blarney.  "Oh yes, but they didn't just sit on their money.  They
bought stocks - lots of them.  I think they're majority
stockholders in a few companies.  Perhaps you've heard of them."
He went on to name ten well-known companies and watched with
growing amusement as Nabiki's jaw visibly dropped.  This was fast
becoming the most fun he'd ever had in school.
     "You're related to all that?" she gasped.
     "Well, not really."  He sighed almost theatrically.  "It's
all on my mother's side and they have lots of kids.  Too bad, I
guess.  Sure would be nice to be rich."  He watched her
excitement drain away, her shoulders sagging in profound
disappointment.
     "What about your father's side?" she asked in a flat voice.
     "He's an only child."
     "I know that...," she snapped before catching herself.  "I
mean, how interesting.  What did his father do?"
     "He was a school teacher," Jeff said with a shrug.
     Nabiki's interest came to a complete, grinding halt.  School
teacher?  Those were among the lowest forms of life she could
imagine - next to farmers.
     Jeff grinned inwardly.  It would destroy the joke to tell
her his father's real father was an economics professor emeritus
at a very famous university and had written numerous books on the
subject.  Anyone even remotely interested in the subject would
immediately recognize his name.
     Her interest in his potential financial status sated, she
excused herself and rejoined her companions.  From her desk, she
cast a curious glance his way before the next teacher arrived to
begin the class period.
     Jeff didn't get much out of the class.  He was still
thinking about Nabiki and how easy it was to deflect her probing
questions.  He had to stifle a couple of chuckles recalling her
reaction to the farmer and school teacher bits.  She might not be
the girl of his dreams but she was certainly interesting enough -
in a predatory sort of way.

     Between the next set of classes, Nabiki returned to her
supervising of Yuka and Sayuri as they came and went, returning
quickly with more paper and money.
     Jeff watched for a few minutes before deciding it was time
he found out just what she was doing.  After all, he owed her a
visit.
     Standing and stretching, he casually walked over to her desk
and craned his neck to see what she was writing in her little
book.
     "Can I help you?" she asked without looking up.  From the
tone of her voice it was obvious he was interrupting something.
     "Just curious," he said, looking closer.  Her handwriting
wasn't the best in the world but what he could make out looked
like odds and bets.  "You the class treasurer?"
     With a sigh, Nabiki set her pencil down and glanced up at
him.  "Yes, but this has nothing to do with being the class
treasurer."
     "Oh," he said softly with an innocent look.  "You a bookie
or something?"
     "I prefer to be called a statistical facilitator," she
replied in an irritated manner.
     "You ARE a bookie," he gasped incredulously.
     "I handle all sporting endeavors, as well as, short-term
loans, and the occasional test answers," she said with no small
pride.
     "Can you take bets on American football games?" he asked
with all the feigned enthusiasm of a young kid.
     Nabiki frowned at him for a moment before flipping a couple
a pages in her book.  The page she ended on was empty.  "Not much
interest in that," she noted.  "You have money?"
     "Yeah, I have some money," he replied.  "You making the
odds?"
     "I can handle anything," she said smugly.
     "You know anything about American football?"
     She caught his grin and bristled.  "I can handle the odds on
whatever you want."
     "Good.  What's the odds on Kansas City at Tennessee?"  Jeff
wasn't an expert on either football or sports gambling but knew
enough to know that it was June and American football was nowhere
near ready to play in June.  He grinned some more which only
seemed to irritate Nabiki.
     With a suspicious scowl in his direction, she reached into
her book bag and snatched out a folder.  Opening it, she sorted
through some papers before finding what she was looking for; a
newspaper sports page, clipped to the betting odds.  After much
searching, she frowned at the paper.  "I don't seem to find
anything on American football."
     Jeff chuckled.  "Well, the Japanese don't know much about
football anyway.  I guess the newspaper just omitted it for space
reasons."  He smiled in a condescending way.  "So, I guess that
means you're not interested."
     He turned to leave but she stopped him with: "I told you I
can handle anything.  How much you want to bet?  Fifty yen?"
     Pausing only a moment, Jeff dug in his pocket and pulled out
a wad of bills.  He saw her eyes go wide for a moment when she
saw how much he was holding.  Plucking a couple out of the wad,
he held them up and asked: "How about Tennessee for... two
thousand yen?  That okay?"

     Nabiki hesitated, her eyes locked to the pair of thousand
yen bills dangling in front of her face.  It was certainly
tempting but she had no idea what the odds really were.
Moreover, she didn't even know where to find out what the final
score was after the game.
     She frowned at Jeff till she caught his laughing eyes.  The
nerve, she thought!  He was taunting her, making fun of her
business.  This was serious.  How could he laugh at something so
serious?
     "Fine," she snarled, snatching the money from his fingers.
"When do they play?"
     "Oh, sometime in October, I imagine.  Could be November," he
said laughing and walking away.  "I can wait."
     That weasel, she fumed.  He was making fun of her.  Her
blood began to boil with resentment.  She'd teach him.  She'd
take him for everything he had then laugh when he begged for
mercy.  Yeah, that's it.  She'd have the last laugh.  She always
had the last laugh.

     The next class was even more boring than the last.  The male
teacher just stood up front and read from his book while the
students were expected to follow along and take notes.  There was
no question and answer and the teacher never paused long enough
for any stragglers to catch up.
     Glancing around, Jeff noticed only about half the class was
actually listening.  The rest were either sleeping or doing
something else at their desks.  He looked up front and noticed
Nabiki furiously writing something in a notebook, pausing only
long enough to flip a couple of pages in her text before
returning to her scribbling.  Odd way to get an education, he
thought, pulling out a manga and opening it.

     Between classes, there was the usual scurrying about, Yuka
and Sayuri leading the way.
     When they returned to the class, Jeff smiled at them both
and asked how they were doing.  Instinctively, they stopped to
talk.
     "You girls look awfully busy today," he said.
     "Nabiki keeps us busy," Yuka said with a shy smile.  Sayuri
joined her and the two huddled together, whispering back and
forth between giggles.
     They certainly were a jolly pair, he thought.  But the way
they constantly giggled gave him the impression they weren't very
smart.
     Yuka kept looking him over like she was impressed.  "Are you
an athlete?" she asked shyly.
     "Me?  No, why do you ask?"
     "You're so... big," she gasped, staring at his arms.
     Jeff glanced down at his biceps.  Since the day he moved to
Japan, one of the things his embassy Marine friends made him do
was lift weights.  Five years of lifting had the positive effect
Yuka was currently admiring.
     "How did you get like that?" she said in a little girl
voice.  He liked the way she was genuflecting around him.  "Are
they real?"
     Holding out his arm, he added: "You can see for yourself."
     Yuka giggled together with Sayuri, casting shy glances his
way between giggles.  Eventually, curiosity got the best of her
and she tentatively reached out to squeeze his left bicep.
     "Ooooh," she cooed to her companion.  "You gotta feel this."
She squeezed his arm a few more times.  Sayuri quickly joined in
on the other arm.  They giggled and made faces at each other.
     "Okay, break it up," Nabiki growled as she approached.
"Don't you girls have some collections to make?"
     Yuka and Sayuri, still giggling, scurried away to finish
their rounds.
     "I'd appreciate it if you'd stop distracting them," Nabiki
dead panned.  "They're on a tight schedule."
     "A little diversion now and then can't hurt anything," Jeff
replied, crossing his arms.  He even flexed a little which caused
her to pause and look.
     "It's hurting collections," she finally said with a firm
warning look.
     "What's the matter?  Don't you ever like to engage in a
little diversion?"
     Nabiki looked at Jeff through narrowed eyes.  She wasn't
sure but it sounded almost like a proposition.  She didn't like
propositions, especially those with no profit in them.
     Both stood awkwardly in silence, eyeing each other, until
the next teacher arrived.  Bowing slightly, they parted like a
pair of wary gunfighters before returning to their desks.
     He missed most of the next class thinking about the girls.
Regardless of how hard he tried to concentrate on the others, his
mind kept wandering back to Nabiki.  There was something about
her that intrigued him.

     Nabiki missed most of the class as well.  Sitting at her
desk, resting her chin in her hand with a far off look on her
face, she didn't even bother to open her book.  Instead, she
allowed herself a little daydreaming.
     This Jeffrey person was certainly annoying but there was
something about him that gave her a strange feeling inside.
Thinking of Yuka fondling his arm, she recalled the previous
evening at the dojo and carefully recreated in her mind the scene
of Jeff with his shirt off.
     When the class ended, Nabiki was still staring out the
window, an enigmatic little smile on her face.

     Noon found Jeff facing the usual problem of where to sit for
lunch.  The boys shooed him away from their tables and the girls
went through their usual giggling act.
     It was another nice day, so he figured he'd just take lunch
outside again.
     As with the day before, he didn't immediately find a place
to sit.  That is, until he spotted a familiar figure sitting at a
far table all hunkered over.
     The guy was wearing the same clothes as yesterday.  Jeff
happily wound his way through the crowd.
     "Hey, stranger.  Mind if I sit here?" Jeff asked with a
smile.
     The stranger lifted his eyes slowly.  "Naw.  I was leaving
anyway."
     "You don't have to leave on my account," Jeff said, dropping
his sack lunch on the table.  The stranger's eyes locked on the
little bag of food.
     "Well, I suppose I could stay for a little while," he said,
his eyes never leaving Jeff's lunch.
     Sitting down, Jeff opened his sack and began quietly eating.
"By the way, I forgot to introduce myself yesterday, my name is
Jeff Lawrence."  Jeff wiped his hand on a pants leg and extended
it across the table to his new friend.
     The strangely dressed young man frowned at Jeff's extended
hand.  "Yeah, I know who you are.  I'm Ranma Saotome."
     "Saotome?" Jeff said shyly withdrawing his hand.  "Are you
related to Genma Saotome, by any chance?"
     "He's my old man," came the almost embarrassed response.
"I've seen you working out.  Take my advice, don't get in any
fights."
     Jeff just gave a little smile and looked down at his lunch.
How many people have been spying on him at the dojo?  He had no
idea his activities had an audience.  It gave him a funny
feeling.  One he didn't especially like.
     "By the way," Ranma said with a curious cock of his head.
"What really happened last night?"
     "Last night?"
     "In the dojo."
     "Nothing much.  Just your normal evening workout," Jeff said
as if the previous night's activities were something that
happened every day.
     "You throw Pop in the water?"
     "No way," Jeff responded holding his hands out defensively.
"That was Sensei Tendo's doing."
     Ranma snickered and linked his hands behind his head.  "Wish
I could have seen that."
     "I hope he's all right," Jeff added with genuine concern in
his voice.
     "Don't worry about him.  I've dunked him hundreds of times.
He seems to enjoy it," Ranma replied with a chuckle.
     "Odd thing though" Jeff said, picking bits of bread from his
sandwich.  "The Tendo's certainly have some strange pets."
     "What makes you say that?"
     "I thought I saw a large panda climb into the house as I was
leaving."
     Ranma grinned broadly.  "He sure is."
     "Huh?"
     "Never mind."
     Jeff offered Ranma some of his lunch, saying that he always
brought more than he could eat (an American weakness, he
suggested).  Ranma snatched Jeff's second sandwich and chugged
his only can of soda.
     "You must have been hungry," Jeff noted.
     "I don't always get to eat breakfast," Ranma replied between
burps.
     "How come?"
     Shaking his head, Ranma replied: "You don't want to know."
     Jeff felt it was best to let the subject die.  There was
something Ranma wasn't telling him.
     The rest of his lunch period passed quickly.  Ranma turned
out to be kinda fun talking to, although highly opinionated on
certain subjects.  Girls, for instance.  Well, one girl in
particular.
     "By the way, I heard a rumor about you being engaged to some
girl," Jeff said casually.  He thought it was just a silly rumor.
After all, Ranma couldn't be much over fifteen or sixteen.
     He was surprised when Ranma's face dissolved into a mask of
despair.  "It's not my fault.  Pop arranged it.  He engaged me to
a... a... uncute, unfeminine, baka tomboy!"
     "Then it's true?" Jeff gasped.
     "Yeah, it's true."
     Jeff was speechless.  He couldn't believe that in this day
and age, kids Ranma's age could get engaged against their will.
It just wasn't civilized.
     "And every morning before school, she fights half the male
student body along with that fool Kuno for the honor of a date,"
Ranma added.
     "I've only been in Japan for a few years, but is that, like,
normal?  For an engaged girl, I mean."
     "It is for her."
     "And this happens every morning?"
     "EVERY morning!"
     So *that's* what's been going on before school.  "Don't you
help her?  You're at least her fiance."
     "Hah!  If I try, she goes after me as well.  And *I* don't
even want to date her!"
     "Well, since you're engaged, I would think that dating kind
of goes with the territory.  Maybe she just gets excited."
     "She's crazy, baka, always looking for ways to hurt me."
     "Sounds like true love to me."  Jeff was being sarcastic but
Ranma seemed to miss it completely.
     "Not you too."  Ranma slammed his elbow on the table and
plopped a cheek onto his fist.
     "Well, at least you can get away from her after school."
     "No way.  I gotta live with her family."
     [Tilt!] Jeff tried to imagine being engaged to a girl and
living in her house.  Such a situation was rife with hormonal
possibilities.
     "I hate it," Ranma moaned as his forehead slammed into the
table hard enough to attract the attention of nearby tables.
     Jeff watched, along with a couple dozen other students, as
Ranma repeatedly banged his forehead on the hard stone table
causing its surface to crack.
     "Uhhh, big test today," Jeff said with a sheepish grin to
those staring.  Most just gave knowing smiles before returning to
their own lunches.
     "So she beats up dozens of guys every morning, right out
front," Jeff said trying to change the subject, if only to save
the table.
     "I told you..," Ranma moaned, interrupting his head banging.
     *This* I gotta see."
     "Tomorrow morning - 8:30.  Just don't get too close."

     During his last hour class, Jeff was excused from the
national test preparation and allowed to go sit in the library.
Happily, he gathered up his latest 'Urusei Yatsura' manga and
hurried up to the library for some light reading.  He had
developed a taste for Japanese manga and was anxious to read what
the fur bikini-clad Lum was up to.
     Just outside the library, three upperclass members of the
Kendo team - all associates of Tatawaki Kuno - stepped in front
of the doors, their arms crossed.
     Stopping far enough to not appear threatening, he glanced at
each of the young men.  "What's wrong?" he asked.
     "Scram, baka gaijin!" one growled taking a martial stance.
     "I just want to sit in the library and read."
     "The library is closed to you," another said.  "You are no
longer welcome here."
     Jeff cocked his head.  "Is that 'here' as in Furinkan or
'here' as in the library?"
     "Don't try your gaijin semantics on us," another warned.
"We've seen how you dealt with Nabiki Tendo."
     Jeff tried a smile.  "Oh, you liked that, did you?"
     His antagonists didn't smile back.
     "Okay, so you didn't like it."
     "Leave now, gaijin!"  The three clearly indicated their
intention of enforcing their will if he didn't comply
immediately.
     Jeff remembered one of Master Sato's wise sayings: 'Never
spoil a good day by getting the crap beat out of you' or
something like that.  His eyes swept the hall and he concluded
that conflict in this setting would be unwise.  At least a
victory here would gain him nothing.  Besides, there was always a
chance he could lose.  With a good cleansing breath, he turned on
a heel and quietly walked away.
     "Wise choice, gaijin."  The tree toughs laughed, clearly
savoring their 'victory'.

     Jeff did a quick search for a substitute place to read and
soon found himself in front of the PE Equipment Storage Room.
Figuring it was about as good as he was going to get, he pushed
open the door and surveyed the room.
     It was a little cluttered but looked clean enough.  Most
importantly, it was quiet.  Only the far off sounds of normal
school activities disturbed the tranquility.
     Making a lounge type chair with a few tumbling mats, Jeff
settled down in a pool of sunlight to some serious reading - even
if it was only manga.
     His peaceful respite was interrupted by the sound of the
room's door suddenly opening and slamming shut.  Curious, Jeff
peered around a pile of mats to see a red haired girl, dripping
wet, wearing a familiar looking red and black outfit gasping for
breath.
     "Hello?"
     The girl appeared to flinch at the sound of his voice.  Only
when she turned to see who it was did she relax.  "Oh, it's you,"
she said with obvious relief.  "Can I hide in here for a few
minutes?"
     "Uh, sure," Jeff said standing up.  "Just who *are* you,
anyway?"
     The girl quickly glanced down at the front of her and back
at Jeff.  "Oh no," she groaned, her shoulders sagging.
     "Oh no, what?"  Jeff blinked at the girl.  "Do I know you?"
     With a sigh, she quietly said: "I... I guess so... I'm...
Ranma Saotome..."  Her chin slowly dropped as she mumbled: "Sorry
about this."
     There was a very pregnant pause as Jeff looked the dripping
girl up and down.  Slowly, a grin spread across his face.  "Of
course, you are."  He chuckled with realization, then shouted at
the door: "Very funny, Saotome.  Tossing a girl in on me wearing
your clothes.  Ha-Ha, very nicely done but I'm not falling for
it."
     "Will you keep it down?  Someone might hear you?" she
pleaded, waving her arms like a bird trying to take off.  "It's
really ME.  I'm Ranma Saotome."
     "Yeah, sure sweetie and I'm Astro Boy.  Hit the road.  I'm
busy."  Jeff shook his head and mumbled something about twisted
minds and practical jokes as he turned to sit back down.
     "Okay, I know this looks strange but...  Don't you believe
me?"
     "No."
     Ranma blinked at the American like he couldn't understand
how anyone could be so dense.  "Ask me anything.  I'll prove I'm
Ranma Saotome."
     Jeff groaned and muttered: "Aw, Geez, why me?"
     "Anything," Ranma offered.
     "OK... if you're really Ranma Saotome, what did I say I saw
climbing into the Tendo house last night?"
     "My pop," the girl said with a degree of resignation.
     "HA!  Got ya!  It wasn't Mr. Saotome, it was a panda."  Then
yelling at the door again: "Hear that Saotome, you need to prep
her better than this!"
     "That panda is my father," the girl said like it was a tough
admission.
     "Your father is a panda?"
     "My father is as human as yours.  He just turns into a panda
every time he gets doused with cold water.  Just like *I* turn
into this... girl when I get wet."  Ranma sighed like he really
hated this story.
     Jeff stood there stunned, taking another visual tour.  "I
don't get it."
     "I'll make it simple for you.  Pop and I fell into some
cursed pool a few months ago while on a training mission in
China.  Ever since, I have this little... problem whenever I get
wet."
     Jeff thought for a few minutes, eyeing Ranma critically.
Master Sato used to tell him stories about strange, mystical
things that happened in the Orient.  But Jeff always chalked them
up to an old man entertaining an impressionable young boy.
Maybe, there *was* something to his stories.
     Leaning forward, Jeff looked closely at Ranma.  "Are those
real?" he asked, poking one of her breasts.  If it was really
Ranma, he wouldn't mind.  If it was some girl, as he suspected,
she wasn't going to blow the joke by slapping him silly.
     "Yes, they're real," she said with a grimace before adding
softly: "I wish you wouldn't do that."
     Jeff leaned back against a vaulting horse and crossed his
arms.  "That's... really weird."
     "You ought to try it from this side," Ranma grumped.
     "You know, I've been having trouble lining up someone for a
date.  I don't suppose..."
     Ranma's low growl and narrowed eyes suggested the obvious.
     "I guess not.  So, are you stuck like this?"  Jeff asked
waving a hand at Ranma's shapely form.
     "Only until I can get some hot water."
     "Hot water?"
     "Yeah, its the only way to change back," Ranma said
squeezing the dampness out of her top.  "I don't suppose you
could... you know.  I don't exactly want to go prancing around
the campus looking like this.  That crazy Kuno is skulking around
out there and he's in love with my female form."
     "Well, well.  Maybe he's not so crazy after all."
     "Hey!  I'm still a guy in here.  You think I like this?!"
     "Well..., it would appear to have its advantages."  Jeff
stroked his chin and looked at the ceiling.  "There's always the
girl's locker room."
     "Sheesh!  And they called ME a pervert.  Are you going to
get the hot water or not?"
     "Huh?  Oh, sure thing.  Uh...how hot?"
     "I don't know.  Just... hot."
     "I can do that.  Be back in a flash."
     A knock at the door and a female voice interrupted Jeff's
exit.
     "Ranma, are you in there?"
     "Were you expecting company?" Jeff asked.
     "OH NO!  Not now."  Ranma collapsed over a vaulting horse, a
disgusted look on his face.  "What ever you do, just get rid of
her."
     "Get rid of who?" Jeff asked as he peeked out of the window
to see an all to familiar girl standing at the door.  "Geeze.
It's just Akane Tendo.  You act like she's your fian...ce..."
The parts slowly fit themselves together.  "Wait a minute.
Akane?  Akane Tendo?!?  She's your fiancee?"
     It all added up.  The strange noises from the Tendo
residence on nights Jeff was training, why Mr. Saotome 'just
happened' to be at the dojo, and all the talk about a 'crazy
tomboy' fiance.  The spot on Jeff's chest started to hurt again.
     Ranma just gave Jeff a disgusted look.
     "If she doesn't already know about this problem of yours,
take my advice, stay like that.  I don't think even she's up to
clobbering girls yet."
     "Don't bet on it."
     Jeff opened the door a little way to see a short, dark
haired girl holding her hands together down the front of her
school uniform skirt.  She hadn't changed a bit.
     "Excuse me but is Ranma in there?" she asked sweetly, trying
to look around Jeff.
     "Well...yes... and... no," Jeff answered casting a look over
his shoulder at Ranma.
     That was all she needed to hear.  With a sudden kick, Akane
slammed the door into Jeff's forehead hard enough to snap his
head back.  Sweet Akane Tendo pushed her way into the room.
     "OK, Ranma.  How many times do I have to tell you: Don't
walk right next to the building this time of day?  Those stupid
upperclassmen just dump their cleaning buckets out the window
without looking."
     Rubbing his forehead and closing the door, Jeff sighed: "Oh
Ranma.  Your sweetheart is here."
     "I'm NOT his...."  She suddenly paused.  Slowly she turned.
Step by step.  Inch by inch.  She closed the distance between
them.  Jeff's life flashed before his eyes.
     "Uh, Hi Akane.  Long time, no see."  Jeff tried to sound
calm while frantically looking for a quick way out.
     "YOU!" she accused with a pointed finger, her voice a snarl
usually reserved for those she despised most.  "I know you!
You're that pervert that tried to put the moves on me back at the
dojo!"
     "MOVES?" Jeff protested, all thought of retreat now lost to
his indignation.  "You call inviting you out for a soda after
practice - moves?"
     "You creep!  I know what you boys want!" she yelled as she
approached almost within striking distance.  "That's why I HATE
BOYS!"
     "All I wanted was someone to go get a soda with.  Who else
could I ask?  You and I were the only two people in the damn
place!"
     Akane's interest in conversation quickly ran out.  With a
move only a trained martial artist could do, she launched a spin
kick at Jeff's chest, just like the last time.
     Unlike last time, Jeff was ready.  He grabbed her foot in
mid strike, twisted it until Akane was facing away from him, then
flipped her towards Ranma.
     "Here, Catch."
     The two collided and fell into a tangled heap on one of the
mats.
     "Get your hands off me, you pervert!" she screamed as Ranma
instinctively tried to catch her.
     "Get off, you clumsy tomboy!" Ranma shouted back.
     "A match made in heaven," Jeff muttered.  "I'll just nip out
and fetch a bucket of hot water while you two work this out."  He
slipped out of the door, just in front of a tossed dumbbell.
     Pausing outside the door, his hand still on the knob, he
shook his head and muttered: "There's something *seriously* wrong
with those two."
     Turning to leave, he ran headlong into more bad news;
Tatewaki Kuno, armed and crazy as ever.  The sound of a
rip-snorting, object-throwing, fur-and-feather fight coming from
the PE Equipment Room provided the background music.
     "Gaijin!  I have been seeking the fairest rose of Furinkan
all afternoon.  Someone said they saw her come this way.  Is she
in there?"  Kuno asked loudly, pointing to the door just as a
heavy object dented it's steel surface from the inside.
     "Ahhh, yeah.  But now's probably not the best time to talk
to her.  She's a little... upset."
     Kuno suddenly reached out and grabbed Jeff by the throat.
"This is *your* doing, gaijin!"
     "Actually, no.  You see, she and... ah... some other girl
are having a little discussion about marriage... and... well,
things," Jeff croaked in a voice sounding like he was on helium.
     "My lovely goddess, Akane.  Threatened by some common tart!"
Kuno bellowed, releasing Jeff to grip his bokkan with both hands.
     "In truth, I think Akane is taking care of herself.  In any
event, you really don't want to go in there."  The sound of Ranma
bouncing off the softball bat rack and screaming for Akane to
stop lent credence to Jeff's words.
     "That voice...," Kuno said as his head snapped around to
look at the storage room door.  "Speak, gaijin.  Is the other
girl red of hair with a pig tail?!?  Answer me quickly or by the
heavens I'll --"
     "Yeah, sure.  Something like that.  Why?"
     "So my two beauties are dueling for the honor of my
company."  Kuno was suddenly rational again, smugly so.
     "Uh... riiiight..."  This was getting truly bizarre but an
idea quickly took shape.  "Look, Kuno old pal, why not give the
ladies a little time to work this out.  One will come out the
winner and then you, Tatewaki Kuno, Blue Thunder, undefeated
captain and rising star of the high school fencing world, can be
her knight... er, samurai in shining armor and claim her
affections."
     "Forget not, the comforting of the loser," Kuno added with
dramatic flourish.  "She will need a strong, sympathetic shoulder
to cry on.  Oh, how sweet is the dew from a young maiden's eyes."
     Jeff stared incredulously at the school's master swordsman.
This guy was not playing on the same planet as the rest of them.
     Kuno's sly smile radiated his confidence.  "You speak with
some wisdom, gaijin.  I shall wait for the victor to emerge
whereupon I will allow her to claim her prize, namely me, while
still getting to comfort the loser.  Brilliant!"
     Kuno's last exclamation was punctuated by Ranma's scream of
pain and the sound of something heavy and metal bouncing off one
of the concrete walls.
     "Perhaps she requires assistance..," he began.
     Jeff put his arm around Kuno's broad shoulders and turned
him away from the fight.  "You don't really want to go in there
right now.  Both all flushed and sweaty - don't look their best.
It would just embarrass them."
     The sound of an entire box of equipment scattering across
the floor caused even the stalwart Kuno to flinch.  "But the
comforting...," he said like a little boy told he couldn't go to
Disneyland.
     "Can take place tomorrow," Jeff finished patting Kuno on the
shoulder.  "I have a radical idea.  Let's run it up the old
temple wall and see how many monks hum along.  When the winner
comes out of there, she's gonna be stomping mad; in no mood for
claiming.  She'll want to look her best for you, tiger."
     "Blue Thunder."
     "Whatever.  Why don't you go home, rest, get freshened up a
bit, maybe get some flowers and see her in the morning.  She'll
be fresh.  You'll be fresh.  No more resistance to your...
magnificence.  OK?"  Jeff plucked some lint from Kuno's shoulder.
     "And the loser?" Kuno asked with a raised eyebrow.
     "I'll get some bandages, maybe some hot water.  A little
first aid.  I'll tell her of your concern.  She'll be fine and
ready for your strong shoulder to cry on.  Think of me as sort of
a neutral go-between."
     You could almost hear the gears grinding in Kuno's head as
his brains kicked in to think it over.
     A baseball bat flying through the window and landing at his
feet convinced him that Jeff's plan was a sound one.  "I shall
listen to your advice and comfort them both later when they are
more... reasonable."
     "Ah, good, good.  I'll just nip over to the dispensary now
and gather up some bandages and hot water for the loser.  It'll
all work out, big fella," Jeff said patting Kuno on the back.
     Kuno bowed slightly, giving Jeff a look he usually reserved
for his servants, and departed towards the school gym just as a
whole weight rack came flying out onto the grass.
     "How, in the world, do I do it?" Jeff mumbled in English.
     He was about to leave when the sound of someone
sarcastically clapping from the doorway of the next building drew
his attention.
     Curious, he eased himself around the corner to come
face-to-face with Nabiki Tendo who was still clapping.
     "Masterful performance, gaijin-san.  Tell me, are you really
that much of a toady worm or were you just playing the part?" she
said lazily.
     "Well, well, well, Miss Tendo, I presume."
     "None other," Nabiki said crossing her arms.
     "Don't tell me you never use deception in your line of
work," Jeff said with a sly smile.
     Nabiki's own smile flickered before returning.  "In any
case, it was an impressive performance.  Not that *I* would ever
stoop to such groveling.  But with you it seems to work."
     "Don't sell yourself short."
     Nabiki's smile slipped long enough for Jeff to notice.  He
could tell she wasn't pleased with the comparison.
     She smiled again before noting: "You seem quite good at
outwitting the witless."
     "Well, it helps when the person I'm dealing with has a room
temperature IQ.  Not to change the subject or anything, but I've
been meaning to ask you something and seeing Akane again reminded
me."
     Nabiki's face screwed into a disgusted look.  Her voice
dropped and became business-like.  "OK, gaijin.  I don't see why
you should be any different than the rest.  Here's the deal.
Five thousand yen and I'll introduce you to Akane.  For ten
thousand, I don't tell Kuno."
     She looked and sounded like she had made this speech a
thousand times before.  Perhaps she had.
     Jeff calmly placed his hands on the wall either side of
Nabiki's head and leaned in real close.  Nabiki didn't even
flinch.  Impressive, he thought.  She exhibited all the airs of
someone completely confident in her own safety.  "And how much
for an introduction to Nabiki Tendo?"
     For the first time in Japan, Jeff found himself alone with
an attractive girl.  So what if it was Nabiki Tendo, the
financial vampire of Furinkan High.  Date-wise, this was as good
a chance as he was going to get - a chance he was not going to
throw away by being timid.  After all, he had just talked his way
out of a confrontation with Kuno.  He was on a roll and couldn't
lose.  Even if she said 'no', there was always Yuka.
     Nabiki's eyes grew wide in surprise.  The remark must have
sounded so sincere that it momentarily pierced her armor.
Perhaps no one had ever been this honest with her before.
Perhaps she was just struck by its boldness.  Whatever it was, it
lasted only a brief moment as she quickly recovered and jumped to
her second wrong conclusion.
     "It won't work, you know.  Trying to get to Akane through
me," she smugly advised.
     "I don't want to *get* to Akane.  Been there.  Done that.
Got the bruises to prove it."
     "Oh, yes, I remember now.  You're the American student she
kicked into the next prefecture for being too forward.  What'd
you try, something from a sappy American movie."
     "Actually, it was something like: 'You want to get a soda
after practice?  I'll buy.'"
     "Hmmmm.  Little Sis never did have enough sense to accept a
freebie," Nabiki said, shifting her position so that she was
leaning more against the wall, her arms crossed.  "And just what
makes you think a lady such as myself would be interested in a
yen-less gaijin, such as you?"  She turned her head slightly away
while her eyes remained on Jeff.  She finished with batting her
eyelashes at him in mock Western fashion.  It was clear she had
done her homework on him.
     "Perhaps, I simply wish to enjoy your company."
     "Honey, I don't think you can *afford* my company."
     "Well, why don't you let me take a whack at it, anyway.
I've done some checking around on my own and you're not exactly
on the 'A' list for parties.  Not to put too fine a point on it,
if it weren't for Yuka and Sayuri, you'd spend all your time
talking to yourself."

     Outwardly, she showed no emotion.  On the inside, she was
seething.  How dare this upstart taunt her.  Despite her
irritation, her voice showed no trace of emotion.  "True.  I
don't get out as much as I would like.  I'm too busy making
money.  As for Yuka and Sayuri, they're business partners,
nothing else," she said looking past Jeff.  "At least, I have a
place to sit at lunch."
     "How much did you pay for it?"

     Nabiki's icy stare confirmed Jeff's touche'.  A small smile
crept across her face.  On another woman, Jeff would have been
running for his life.  On Nabiki, it looked like a challenge and
he just couldn't resist a challenge.
     "But enough of this mental fencing.  You're an interesting
woman, Miss Tendo."
     "I find you... interesting as well."
     They stared at each other through masks of knowing smiles.
     Jeff broke the silence first.  "I'll tell you what, you pick
the place.  Something you've always wanted to do, within reason.
I'll pick you up Saturday at ten and I'll even throw dinner.
Deal?"
     "It sounds like you're proposing a date, gaijin," she
replied sarcastically.
     "I am."
     "I accept."
     She looked up at the sky for a moment to make her selection,
then paused like a cat about to devour a helpless mouse.  She was
going to take this gaijin for everything he had.
     "Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to ride a horse.
You may take me riding," she said stroking his cheek with her
index finger.
     This was as much a test as a date.  Horseback riding was
more expensive than golf in Japan.  Only the very wealthy could
afford a horse.  A person needed to be well heeled just to rent
one.
     If she was expecting a stunned reaction from him, she must
have been disappointed.  He had anticipated spending a bundle on
his first date anyway.  Going riding fit easily into his proposed
budget.
     "Since this Saturday is the one we get off this month, I'll
pick you up then.  Be ready at ten."  Jeff took her hand and
gently attempted to kiss it.  Nabiki quickly withdrew her hand
and gave him a look of warning.  He just smiled confidently and
watched as she slipped under his arm, opened the nearest door
and, with a wry smile of her own, disappeared inside.
     That was easy, Jeff thought as he envisioned an afternoon
ride with Nabiki that ended after dark, her beautiful profile
framed by a full moon.  Now, where the heck was he going to find
a couple of horses?
     "JEFFREY!"  Ranma's scream snapped Jeff back to reality.
     "Damn! The water," he muttered bolting for the dispensary.


     Friday morning dawned clear and warm.  Jeff Lawrence made
sure he arrived at Furinkan High School extra early to pick out a
good spot to watch the regular morning show.
     Setting up a low beach chair under a large tree, Jeff
settled in for the entertainment portion of his day.  Wearing
dark glasses and sipping a mug of juice, Jeff balanced a sun
reflector under his chin and reclined contentedly in the beach
chair.
     An ominous shadow soon fell over him.
     "You're blocking my sun, fella.  You wanna move?" he said
lazily.
     "So!  You deceive me into leaving the duel between my two
lovely angels..."  Kuno's voice seemed to echo in the school
yard.
     "The man will take Famous Lovely Angels for fifty dollars.
Time's up.  The correct answer is: Who are Yuri and Kai?" Jeff
said putting down the reflector and reaching for his juice.  Just
what he needed this morning - Kuno.
     "I'm referring to my two loves; Akane Tendo and the red
haired pig-tailed girl."
     "Oh, them."
     "Yes, them!  And *now* I find you here to challenge for
Akane's affections.  Deny it, gaijin!"  He was waving that
'pig-sticker' again - this time in an aggressive, threatening
manner.
     Without thinking, he blurted out in English: "What is it
with this Akane girl, anyway.  Dating her has got to be like
getting cozy with a rattlesnake."
     "What are you babbling about, fool?" Kuno demanded.
     Jeff lazily looked up at the large would-be samurai and said
in Japanese: "Back home, we have a saying: 'If the horse throws
you, get back on.  If the horse throws you then kicks you, get
another horse.'"
     Kuno seemed to be struggling with Jeff's homey proverb.
Maybe it was the lousy way it translated into Japanese.  Maybe it
was just a little to 'low brow' for his delicate taste.  In any
case, it was like watching a 10 year old trying to figure out
quantum physics.
     "SO?!?" Kuno finally roared out of frustration.
     "So, I have all the bruises I require from Miss Akane Tendo
and have no further interest in her.  Besides, I prefer older,
more intellectual women like... oh, say Nabiki Tendo."
     "Nabiki?" Kuno snorted.  "Nabiki Tendo?!"  This time he
roared with laughter.
     "Well, yes."
     "That female ledger book?  That temple money changer?!  That
Yakuza reject?!?  That..."  He never finished because the object
of this discussion crowned him with a large book.
     Kuno blinked, got a far away look in his eyes, and droned:
"I'll deal with you in a moment, gaijin.  I seem to have...
developed a... slight... headache."  With eyes rolled back into
his head, Mr. Blue Thunder hit the ground with a resounding
'thud'.
     "Never knew when to shut up," Nabiki lamented sarcastically.
     "Nice shot.  What'd you use?" Jeff asked taking another sip
of his drink.
     Nabiki held up an oversized hard back edition of 'The
Complete Works of William Shakespeare'.
     "Quite appropriate, my dear.  And so skillfully applied,
too."
     "A girl has her reputation to protect," Nabiki responded,
flicking a few stray strands of hair from in front of her face.
     "Join me?"  Jeff indicated a grassy spot next to his seat.
     Nabiki hesitated.  "A gentleman would offer his chair."
     "For two thousand yen, I might consider it," Jeff answered
with his hand out.
     Nabiki's friends gasped.  Nabiki only gave a wry smile.  She
too liked challenges and this character was certainly a challenge
- in more ways than one.
     With a sigh of resignation, Nabiki neatly tucked her school
uniform skirt under her as she sat down next to Jeff on the soft
grass.  He casually handed her a small bottle of juice from his
cooler.
     "How much?" she inquired before reaching for it.
     "I'm wounded that you would think me less than a good host,"
he said defensively.
     "How much?" she insisted, her eyes narrowing.
     "On the house.  I don't want you to think I only see you as
a source of extra income."
     Nabiki accepted the juice but gave Jeff 'the look' meaning
that she felt a challenge to her lofty position of champion
extortionist.  Movement over by the main gate cut short her
reproach.  "Looks like we just made it."
     "Yup.  The circus is in town and the parade of clowns is
about to start."
     The Akane whirlwind arrived in its usual fashion: Ranma
perched on top of the wall next to the gate holding Akane's book
bag, love sick jocks streaming in from all directions, and Akane
Tendo chopping the whole bunch into cole slaw.
     As luck would have it, the last suitor fell not 10 feet from
Jeff and Nabiki.  Akane, gasping for breath, eyed the two
suspiciously when they broke into applause.
     "Bravo!  Masterful performance!" Jeff cheered.  "Author!
Author!"
     "Morning, Sis!" chirped Nabiki between sips of her juice and
applauding.
     Akane, her distaste at being considered light entertainment
clearly written all over her face, was about to reply when she
noticed the prostrate form next to her sister.  "What's with
Kuno?" she asked.
     "Yeah, he doesn't look too ready to fight Akane this
morning," quipped Ranma as he arrived at Akane's side.
     "Had a little run-in with Shakespeare," Jeff said removing
his sunglasses.  "Something about being quoted out of context, I
believe."
     "You know, Jeff-baby.  He's going to be late for class if he
doesn't wake up soon," Nabiki noted sweetly while dabbing her
mouth with a fresh napkin.
     "Quite right, my dear.  You four fellows there."  Jeff
pointed to a small group of males in the gathering crowd.  "Haul
Mr. Blue Thunder here up to his class and place him at his desk.
I seriously doubt the teachers will notice any difference."
     All loose ends being neatly tied up, Jeff stood, brushed off
his sleeves, and offered his arm to Nabiki.  "I believe we should
be getting along ourselves, Miss Tendo."
     "Delighted, Mr. Lawrence," Nabiki answered slipping her arm
around Jeff's and leading him towards the school.
     Akane, Ranma and the rest of the gathered student body
watched wide eyed as Jeff and Nabiki lead the four students
struggling with Kuno's limp body towards the school building.
     "Well, what do you make of all that?"  Akane finally asked.
     Ranma wasn't listening. He missed much of his breakfast
trying to get to school on time.
     "I wonder if there's any juice left," Ranma thought out
loud, looking through Jeff's things.
     "I should have known better than ask you.  Always thinking
of your stomach.  You're so immature."
     "And you're an uncute tomboy."
     That did it.  Round two commenced and it was shorter than a
Mike Tyson fight.  Officially, it was a TKO for Akane resulting
in Ranma upside down in Jeff's beach chair covered with orange
juice.


     Saturday at ten found Jeff outside the Tendo compound.  His
father arranged for an embassy car and driver to take him
wherever he wanted to go.  His father also seemed pleased that he
was finally getting involved with girls.  His mother, however,
remained skeptical - especially after hearing all about the girl
in question.  Nabiki didn't seem like the kind of girl a mother
would approve of.
     Jeff approached the door to the Tendo house and announced
his arrival.
     An older looking girl with a pony tail over her right
shoulder and wearing a frilly pink apron greeted him.  "You must
be Jeffrey.  I'm Kasumi, Nabiki's sister.  My, you look handsome
in your riding outfit.  Come in, come in.  Everyone is in the
main room waiting for you."
     Jeff bowed politely but couldn't help thinking about what a
strange family this was.  The youngest hates boys, the middle
runs the school mafia, and the oldest was obviously on happy
drugs.
     Kasumi Tendo watched passively as he struggled with his
riding boots then directed Jeff into the main room where a rather
large panda and Soun Tendo greeted him from the table and
motioned for him to enter.  Mr Tendo was reading his newspaper
while the panda chewed on some bamboo shoots.
     With cautious curiosity, Jeff approached the panda.
     "Is that really you, Mr. Saotome?" he said, leaning close
and looking carefully into the panda's eyes.
     The panda responded by holding up a small sign saying: [Need
breath mint.]
     Jeff couldn't believe it.  He'd just been insulted by a
panda.
     Smiling, he asked: "If you get sick, do they call a doctor
or a vet?"
     The panda just growled and took a swipe at Jeff's head.
     "Now, now, my friend.  Lawrence-san has a point," Mr. Tendo
said calmly from behind his paper.
     The panda eyed first Jeff then the back of Mr. Tendo's
newspaper before holding up a sign saying he was going to take a
bath.
     No sooner had Genma-panda left, Nabiki appeared, dressed in
her new English riding outfit.  It was spectacular.  A white
poet-necked shirt topped by a beige vest only a shade darker than
her light beige riding pants.  She carried her calf-length
mahogany brown riding boots like a game show hostess.  A brown
riding derby and a cute little riding crop completed the
ensemble.  She paused in the door way, posing like something out
of an ad.  She was careful to show off how well the outfit
accented her nice figure.
     "Something wrong with your legs?" Ranma snorted as he
squeezed past her into the room.
     "She's posing for Jeff, you dolt," Akane replied, following
him.  "Don't you know anything?"
     Nabiki just held her pose, closed her eyes and prayed the
two children weren't going to do what they did every morning.
     "Well, I know she looks goofy standing like that."  Ranma
was embellishing his challenge.
     "You can be such a jerk sometimes!  She happens to be
showing off her expensive new riding outfit like a model!"
     "Yeah?  Well, I still say it looks goofy."
     "Ooooooooh!!"  Akane somehow produced a large mallet and
began waving it like a samurai sword.
     Ranma, skipping the part where he tries to figure out how
she produced such a weapon out of thin air, bolted for the open
door and ran for his life with Akane right on his heels taking
repeated swipes at his head with the mallet.
     "Come back here!" Akane yelled as the two sprinted across
the compound.
     "Quite the lovebirds, aren't they?" Nabiki dead panned.  She
had given up the posing and was leaning against the door frame,
her arms crossed.
     "This goes on all the time?" Jeff asked watching Ranma dodge
several blows as he headed for the dojo.
     "All the time.  Every day.  Morning, noon, and night.
Honestly, I don't know how we keep up with the repairs."
     Mr. Tendo just mumbled from behind his paper something about
minor lovers' quarrels.
     Jeff recovered enough to compliment Nabiki's attire.  For
her part, she downplayed her overall looks while making sure he
understood she spent a bundle on looking nice for him.
     "I arranged for two horses to be available at the Imperial
Riding Club.  We have them all afternoon," Jeff said looking at
his watch.
     "THE Imperial Riding Club?  That place is expensive."
Nabiki waited for a reaction.  Always probing, she had been
frustrated through official channels in her search for Jeff's
true worth.  All she had left now was trickery.  Clearly, she
would have to do better.  Jeff just smiled.
     "Actually, a friend at the embassy arranged this through
your Prime Minister's office."
     "Well, well, well.  You DO have connections," she said with
a wry smile.
     Jeff laughed.  "Not really.  My father handled everything.
The American Military Attache has a good friend who's a member
and he made the arrangements."  He avoided telling her the friend
in question happens to be the Japanese Deputy Minister for
Foreign Affairs.
     "Oh my, I'll just never understand all this talk about
people in high places," Kasumi said with a wistful sigh.
     "Shall we?"  Jeff indicated the way out.
     Nabiki bid her father goodbye and happily led Jeff to the
door.  By the time they got to the street, she was glancing
around to see if anyone was watching, certain they would be
impressed with her leaving in a chauffeur-driven car.
     "It's provided by the embassy," Jeff corrected.  "We hire
these guys to drive embassy personnel around.  It avoids the
problem of having to get a local license.  It's nothing special.
Really."
     Nabiki just smiled knowingly.  It was harder to do than one
might imagine as it was suddenly interrupted by Ranma running
past with Akane close behind, now swinging a nasty-looking
shinai.
     Jeff just glanced at the retreating pair.  "You say they do
this every day?"
     "Every day for thirty-eight episodes."
     "Come again?" Jeff asked.
     "Never mind," she replied with a sigh.  "You wouldn't
believe me if I told you."
     "I'll buy that," Jeff mumbled as he held the car door for
his date.
     She happily settled into the back seat, casting sly looks
out the tinted glass windows.  Nabiki Tendo, in a diplomat's
chauffeur driven car.  You've come up in the world, girl, she
thought to herself with her sardonic smile in place.
     To Jeff, however, the whole affair was starting out with
less of a bang than he had hoped for.  By the time he climbed in
after her, she was clear on the other side of the seat.  He
wanted her to sit a little closer - at least in the same
prefecture.

     At the riding club, Jeff was relieved to see English tack on
the horses.  He had failed to consider, until arriving at the
club, that the Japanese might use some strange saddle arrangement
that would have left him looking foolish trying to figure out.
To him, it was very important to look like a man in control.  He
sensed that Nabiki Tendo would only respect him if she thought he
was masterful enough to control his environment.
     Grateful that his parents had given him riding lessons back
in England, he easily swung into the saddle.  However, it quickly
became obvious that Nabiki wasn't kidding about her lack of
riding experience; it took three tries to get her in the saddle
and from the start, the horse was clearly in control.  The
handler, who was helping her mount, silently endured her
awkwardness and struggled to keep horse and rider together.  Once
she was finally in the saddle, he gave her a few simple
instructions and sent her on her way.
     Jeff took the lead and followed a trail that led across a
field and into some woods.  All the time, he kept glancing back
to see if Nabiki was still on her mount.  At first, Nabiki looked
like she was about to fall off at any second - her little riding
bowler bounced up and down as the horse's gait caused the poor
girl's body to slam back into the saddle with each stride.  But,
by the time they reached the woods, she had gotten in the rhythm
and seemed to be enjoying herself - with only an occasional
frantic grab at the poor animal's mane for balance.  The couple
didn't talk much, which probably was for the best, as Nabiki
needed all her concentration skills to keep her mount under
control and herself in the saddle.
     They rode in silence for 20 minutes until she hailed Jeff
and said that the insides of her knees were hurting.
     "Should've worn panty-hose," Jeff quipped as he pulled
alongside.
     "Wear what!?!" She responded incredulously.
     "It keeps your pants from rubbing against the knee joint."
When he saw she was still confused he added: "It's an old John
Wayne joke."
     "John who?" she asked like she'd never heard the name
before.
     "Don't you ever watch TV?"
     "Only the financial news."
     "Oh.  Well, how about walking a little while?  It'll be
easer on your legs," Jeff suggested as he dismounted.
     He worked his way around to help her off her horse.  It was
the gentlemanly thing to do, he thought.  The whole process
seemed simple enough.  All she had to do was swing her opposite
leg over the horse and slide off - he'd catch her.
     With a look clearly conveying her uncertainty about his
plan, Nabiki tried.  Besides kicking the horse in its head and
almost twisting her other foot off because she failed to pull it
from the stirrup in time, she practically fell into Jeff's arms.
     For just a moment, they were uncomfortably close; his hands
on her slim waist, her hands on his shoulders.  He could smell
her perfume, feel her tight waist, and see the strange look on
her face as he lowered her lithe body until her feet were safely
on the ground.  He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn she was
waiting for him to do... something.  Toe-to-toe they paused
looking into each other's eyes.
     After an awkward interval, Jeff cleared his throat and urged
her to take the reins of her horse for the walk.  Almost shyly,
Nabiki complied.  Both seemed to sigh in relief.
     As the two slowly walked, side by side, Jeff scolded himself
for not being a little more 'romantic'.   He was uncomfortably
aware that she had more experience than he at this dating
business.  So, he figured he'd just let her make the first move -
whatever it was - and he'd follow along.  Sounded easy enough.

     For Nabiki's part, she was working the equation from the
other end.   Yes, she thought he was really cute - and strong.
She couldn't believe how easily he helped her off the horse.  She
also couldn't believe how it made her feel.  Good thing he's an
American.  She'd heard they always know how to show a girl a good
time.  She would just sit back and let him lead.

     Neither talked much as they walked, just small bits about
the weather, school, classes, and the like.  One of those boring
conversations guaranteed to kill an ordinary date.  This,
however, was proving to be anything but an ordinary date.
     Thankfully, the woods finally opened up to reveal a clearing
with a small lake in the middle.  Jeff suggested they stop and
rest awhile before heading back.  As he tied up the horses,
Nabiki wandered down by the lake and sat beneath a large tree.

     Casting curious glances his way, her conscience issued
warnings.  Don't get ahead of yourself, it warned.  You don't
know anything about him... yet.
     She shifted her position to create just the right 'look' of
cool confidence for Jeff's benefit while allowing herself to
indulge in a little fantasy.
     Closing her eyes and leaning back against the tree, she
relived the way his hands felt on her waist and the way his
muscles moved as he lowered her to the ground.  Taking the
fantasy a step further, she envisioned his strong arms around
her, holding her body tightly against his.  Slowly, her mind
caressed his features, his arms, his chest, his waist, his...
     "Napping?"  Jeff's question snapped her back to reality.
     Darn!  He had such an innocent charm about him.  Too bad he
had such lousy timing.  She cautiously glanced his way and smiled
her content little smile.
     Jeff, apparently ob