Ranma allowed himself a brief smirk as she watched the other Kunoichi students from her tree. By the time they had found – and extricated themselves from – the trap down by the river, he had already retrieved the training scroll that was the prize for the day, read it and committed the technique to memory, then replaced it. She now lay on her belly, aura shielded as the scroll described, over a branch at least 20 feet above the heads of the others, occasionally casting a thin, colourless thread to entangle one of the more arrogant trainees. It had only been two months, yet she had graduated into the advanced classes – for those seeking mastery of the camp's school. Despite all that had happened, her love of the art had remained, giving her a release as she threw herself into learning the new style... and, in private, incorporating it into her own. Rolling onto her back, Ranma gazed up into the dappled light of her tree as she once again returned to her continual problem. During her time in Nerima, her style had changed so much – incorporating Amazon Wu Shu, the Seven Lucky Gods' techniques and Gourmet du Fois Gras to name but a few. It was no longer the Saotome school that once had been the basis of her art. It was barely even Anything Goes... thus, her problem. She was Ranma (sometimes Kajiko) Saotome... but of what school? She knew that she could no longer claim to be the student of any existing school... so she must become the grandmaster of her own. A snigger wound its way through the air as the redhead considered what her old sensei's reaction would be... lips moving as she mimicked the overused melodrama "Oh woe is me, what have I done to diserve such an ungrateful boy?" Her ears cocked as she found faint sounds of triumph from the direction of the scroll – time to head back to the camp... there was always a good meal after exercises like this.
As the trainees returned, the Elders of the camp exchanged glances. There was a pattern emerging whenever the opportunity to learn a secret technique was offered to the mastery students... One or more of the group would emerge at the head of a rather weary party, clutching the scroll, a broad grin on her face... and Kajiko would seemingly appear from nowhere, winking at the welcoming party before vanishing again, leaving a not-so-subtle hint that she had somehow learnt the technique already. It seemed that her declaration that she had been "the best martial artist of her generation" was not merely an idle boast. She had recovered quickly – almost too quickly – from the state she had arrived in, suggesting that she was merely putting on a mask, once again concealing her true feelings from the world. Anyone asking as to her health was brushed off with a cocky "Ah, I'll figure it out, no need to worry". Even more worrisome was her reaction when subtle inquiry had found that there was no known way of removing her curse... "Yeah, kinda figured that" and a careless shrug revealing less than nothing of the sheer emotional agony shown when she arrived. Kajiko was... an enigma. A dangerous enigma, yet one with a good heart. There had been several paired exercises where she had given up the prize in favour of her partner's health – even if she had been within a hundred yards of it at the time. In contrast, she seemed to have no respect for her own body at all, often ignoring horrific injury to win, learning every technique shown with incomparable speed – often after only having seen it once. The elders broke from their musings at a shriek from midair. "YATTA!" Kajiko popped out of nothing, seated on a ten foot pole as if it were the most comfortable chair in the camp. Ignoring the confusion all around her she proceeded to juggle two flags and a sign, on which the slogan "the schools will be joined" had been scrubbed out, and "The school has a name!" written in in bold Kanji. Seeming to notice the upturned faces for the first time, the flags and sign vanished, leaving her with a sheepish expression on her face. "Uhhh... Hi? I'm Kajiko, grandmaster of the Kahen Kaosu-ken... sorry 'bout that."
Ranma-chan relaxed back against the roof of her hut, lazily picking the remains of dinner from her teeth as she watched the stars spin in the clear night sky. "Kahen Kaosu-ken... yeah, I like that. Kinda like my life really... total chaos, but mostly under control... like dancin' on a knife edge. She gave a forlorn smile at that "Well... I guess now I've cut my last tie with pops. I don't carry his name, I don't carry his debts... now I'm no longer the future of his school. Heh... nearly time to move on. Living here... it's been good. Peaceful. An' I'm a lot easier with my girl form... but I gotta find a way to fix the Neko-ken... an' ... well... I can hardly call my school the controlled chaos fist if the grandmaster can't control his own chaos... Maybe... if I tell 'em I'm leaving they'll speed up my trainin'. It's been relaxin', goin' this slow, but it's time ta move on." She slipped down from the roof silently, a darker shadow against the night as she moved towards the Elders' meeting hut, not noticing the tiny black pig which wandered into her hut, dripping wet, before vanishing into midair with a resigned bwee.
