Tendo-Saotome Anything Goes

Shampoo’s eyes were everywhere.  They scanned the darkened trees around her, scanned the sky above, and scanned the path ahead.  Why hadn’t she simply agreed to let stupid Mousse come along?  At least then, there would be two sets of eyes.  Besides, she was pretty sure Mousse had been to Japan, once upon a time.  Shampoo was already far beyond the roads she’d traveled.

 

The Juketsuzoku had a name for that, and it meant being out of your element as well as out of your experience: outside your stride.  Shampoo had been outside of her stride for the last twenty miles, easily.  Now, she was beginning to wonder if any of the rumors about foreigners were really true: did some of them really have horns?  Were their women kept in chains and forced to do labor?  A host of terrible images swam past Shampoo’s eyes.  If the latter was so, she would spend her life where it was good currency.

 

The warrior finally crouched down, poking at the flames with a handy stick, pushing the tinder closer to the heart of the fire.  In moments, she was in a half-trance, her lids half-lowered as she stared into the flames.  There was something hypnotic about fire, she decided – the way it sparked and danced.  It was so beautiful, and so very very dangerous.  Weapons were forged in fire, blades and hammers, arrows and daggers.  Fire was destruction embodied.  It devoured without a thought.

 

Shampoo wished her journey long over.  Even though she’d originally been more than pleased to leave the village, she was already missing things like the practice arena, the bathing pool, and her own, cozy little cabin – not to mention her great-grandmamma, and even Mousse, the bumbling fool.  Far away from Juketsuzoku, it was easy to see that he loved her very desperately, but she knew her growing acceptance of the fact would wear thin the moment he reappeared.  Baka Mousse.

 

Besides, she had a job to do.  Not a job she was really looking forward to, but a job nonetheless.  Gods, she just wanted to go home.

 

Shampoo sighed, laying down by her pitiful little fire, and attempted to sleep.

 

Her dreams were of murder.

 

A loud crack woke her.  Shampoo rolled immediately and with blinding speed, pulling two shinai from the ground where she had carefully placed them, ending in a half-kneel, her weapons raised.  “Who goes there?!” she called out.  When no one replied, Shampoo’s eyes narrowed and she stood cautiously, trying to keep an eye on every direction.  Whatever was moving out there was making a great deal of noise; it was not making an effort in the slightest to disguise its movement.  That made it an animal or an absurdly confident person.

 

Or, perhaps, simply somebody lost in the forest, not expecting to see anybody at all.

 

Shampoo stood silent as a stone, waiting.  It was a big thing, whatever it was.  At least twice her size, perhaps a bit more massive than that.  She would wait until she saw it before moving to attack.

 

A glimmer of white and she was death personified, leaping with an almost unnatural grace, one shinai extended, one pulled close to her ribs.

 

The next thing she knew, she was sailing through the air in the opposite direction.  With a massive effort, she flipped to land on her feet—to face her enemy.  He wore a white gi and spectacles that fastened behind his ears.  “You!” she exclaimed.

 

“Kuso!” the man exclaimed.  “Doco—doco wa?”[1]

 

Shampoo blinked.  “Un,” she articulated intelligently.  “You’re Japanese, I forgot.”  While it was obvious he’d asked her a question, she was otherwise at a loss.  She wondered briefly if she should try to kill him—he had eaten all of her food, the greedy jerk.  However, she was simply too curious about seeing him again, and besides, it was his daughter she really had the quarrel with.  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.  “If you’re trying to get back to Japan, you should know you’re going the wrong way.”  If he failed to amuse her, she could always kill him later.  This one she might even enjoy.

 

“So ka; onna wa Chogoku-jin desu,”[2] the man mused, shrugging to himself.

 

Shampoo threw her hands into the air in a gesture of exasperation, and pointed him back the way he’d come.

 

He shook his head firmly, catching on almost immediately, and pointed towards the village.

 

Shampoo frowned.  “And what business do you have with us?” she queried, lifting her chin and gazing at him with her grandmother’s patented high-priestess expression plastered across her face. 

 

He shook his head as though this was an utter waste of time; and, Shampoo had to admit, perhaps it was.  Then he attempted to barrel his way past her.

 

She danced back and forth, remaining in front of the heavier man.  “No way!  You think you’ll get away with that?!  I’m the best warrior in my village, you overgrown sack of yams, and I’m not going to let you get there just to wreak some extra-special havoc you missed wreaking last time!”

 

“Wakarimasu ka?  Maaa,” he groaned, placing a hand on his forehead.  “Shikata ga arimasen.”[3]

 

“That’s right, stupid Japanese,” Shampoo said, nodding.  “So you’re just going to have to turn right around—ne?” she finished in mocking tones.  She knew what ‘ne’ meant, at least.

 

The old man sighed, and pointed to himself.  “Genma,” he said clearly.

 

The purple-haired girl grimaced, but decided to play along.  She was still interested, but her patience was waning.  She put her own hand to her heart.  “Shan Pu,” she said clearly.

 

“Nani?”

 

“Shan,” she said slowly.  “Pu.”

 

“Shampoo?”

 

It was close enough.  She shrugged, nodding. 

 

Genma considered for a moment, then raised his hand, palm down, to about Shampoo’s height.

 

“Yes, yes, somebody that size,” Shampoo recited, nodding.  “You’re looking for your daughter?  Well, so am I.”  She smiled congenially, but shrugged and shook her head.  She hadn’t seen the redhead since several weeks ago back in the village.

 

She’d gotten it wrong; the man wasn’t looking for his daughter.  He wanted something for her.  What it was, Shampoo couldn’t even begin to guess: the man’s gesticulations got more and more difficult to interpret as he went on.

 

“Enough!” Shampoo exclaimed, batting his hands away.  “I can’t tell what you mean, so just stop trying!”  Didn’t this idiotic male realize he was conversing with a Juketsuzoku maiden?  He was wasting her time!

 

He held his hand up in front of her face, his middle finger upright.[4]

 

“One more try, fine,” Shampoo said, sighing and nodding.  After that, she’d punch the idiot in the gut, maybe make a small wound so he couldn’t follow her, and then be on her way.

 

Genma paused, considering.  His hands moved up and down.

 

“Water,” the girl said, yawning with boredom.  To communicate her understanding, she mimicked drinking.

 

He shook his head.

 

“Well what the hell else goes up and down like that—hills?”  Shampoo bit her lip, then formed an up-side-down V with her hands to indicate a mountain.

 

He nodded excitedly, then moved his hands again in the same pattern.

 

“Yes, the damned hills, I got that part already,” she snapped.

 

Genma smiled at her sunnily, and stopped his movement, pointing at...

 

“Valley,” Shampoo replied.  She veed her hands again, and he pointed at the base of the mountain for her.  “Yes, valley.  What about it?”

 

Genma flattened one hand at eye level.  His other hand mimed something falling towards the flattened area.

 

“Hn?  Fall?  Somebody fell into a valley?”  Shampoo blinked, suddenly going rigid.  In her limited experience, it was easy to reach the end of Genma’s story long before he was finished.  “Jhusenkyo,” she confirmed.  It was not really a question.

 

“Jhusenkyo,” he repeated, nodding.  “Ranma.”

 

“Your kid.  Your daughter.  Jhusenkyo,” she repeated thoughtfully.  “So, what does the dead girl turn into?”

 

Genma pointed at Shampoo emphatically.

 

“What about me?” she queried.

 

He sighed.  He pointed to himself, then to Shampoo.

 

“I’m not getting you.”  Shampoo shook her head, arms crossed across her chest.

 

Genma stared at her for a moment, then pointed at her breasts, one at a time.

 

The Juketsuzoku blinked at him, taking a step back.  “You’ll pay for that one, you dirty old...  woman!  You mean Ranma fell into Spring of Drowned Girl!  Hah!  But that won’t do anything, it’ll just...”  Shampoo blinked again, dazedly, realizing that Ranma had fallen in before she’d had ever met the girl.  Ranma could be anything!  A bug that happened to fall into the spring, or more likely a highly intelligent animal like a dog or jaguar, or even a rat—she was relatively certain such things could be taught to speak if they had the right equipment, had human vocal chords.  “Ranma... isn’t... a pet or anything... is she?  She’s a guy?”  The purple-haired girl quickly moved to explain herself.  “Ranma,” she said clearly, then pointed at Genma.  The message was clear: is Ranma like you?

 

Genma nodded.

 

Shampoo sighed gratefully.  So she just had to marry him!

 

Just?  If anything, that was even more complicated!  She began cursing under her breath quietly in Chinese. 

 

Genma obviously thought she was sympathizing; he nodded and looked distraught.

 

“Okay,” she said, “okay.  Right.  I should go back to the elders and ask—but no!  I’m already a day’s travel away.  Go back now and we lose two, and Ranma’s tracks aren’t fresh as it is.  Besides which, there’s the other thing, far more important...”

 

The older martial artist seemed to notice that Shampoo was talking to herself, because he waited respectfully while she rambled on.

 

Shampoo shook her head to clear it.  The law was perfectly solid in such cases; she didn’t need anyone’s permission to bag Ranma and bring her—er, him—home.  “All right, old man,” Shampoo said contemptuously.  “Where is Ranma?”

 

And though it did take awhile, they each managed to explain where the other had to go to get what they wanted.

 

 

*****-----*****

 

 

“Kill me now,” Ranma begged.

 

“I’m not going to kill you,” Akane said firmly.  “Take these.”  She handed Ranma a small glass of water and three pills.

 

“But I’m half-dead already,” the redhead whined.  “It’d be a mercy.”

 

“No, thank you,” Akane said, patting her on the head.  “Drink up, girl.  The pain will be half that bad in twenty minutes or so.”

 

“Only half?” she queried in a small voice.  “That still leaves me one-quarter dead!”

 

“Ehhhh!” Akane exclaimed in frustration.  “Come downstairs when you feel you can stand, okay?”

 

Ranma blinked suspiciously at the pills in her hand.  To be perfectly honest, other than simple stuff like aspirin and rubbing alcohol, her experience with any kind of medicine passed straight through ‘limited’ and into ‘nonexistant’.  She didn’t like the idea of ingesting anything that was specifically engineered to mess around with her body.

 

On the other hand, there was that slightly distracting blinding pain, she reminded herself.  Ranma gulped down the three pills, chasing them with the entire glass of cool water Akane had handed her.

 

Oh, crap!  Why had she listened?  Why had she swallowed so much as a gulp of air?

 

“Oh, Ranma!”  Kasumi’s voice came floating up from downstairs.  “Ranma, dear!  Come down, we have red beans and rice!”[5]

 

Lovely.  The whole family knew of her agony.

 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, Kasumi!” she called.  Her plan of changing back to a boy and re-proving her masculinity had fallen flat on its face.  First of all, she could scarcely move, and second of all, her attempt to change back via hot water had been... problematic...

 

Of course, Akane had done her best to help the redhead out, even when Ranma had briefly changed forms, which always seemed to make her very nervous.  But even Akane could neither cure nor explain away Ranma-kun’s debilitating dizziness.  Ranma was stuck as a girl for the next several days, at least if she wished to walk in a straight line.  It was a toss-up as to whether the symptoms were worse when she was a girl or a guy, come to think of it. 

 

Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, feeling as though her center of gravity was two feet lower than before.  Ranma blinked forcefully to settle the room and moved downstairs, one step at a time.  How pitiful!  When Ranma was a guy, she could have taken them all in one leap. 

 

Don’t be an idiot, a cool voice sounded in his head.  It’s not because you’re a girl, it’s because you’re a girl at this particular time.

 

“Hmph,” Ranma said aloud, moving into the kitchen.  “Uhm... Kasumi,” she began as the other girl bustled around the kitchen, “you don’t really have to...”

 

“Nonsense!” Kasumi announced.  “I made red beans and rice for Nabiki, I made red beans and rice for Akane, and I’m going to make them for you!  You’re a part of this family, Ranma.”

 

Ranma surprised herself by blinking back tears and emitting an “okay” that sounded much smaller than it had in her head.  She took her traditional place next to Akane and waited.  The pills did seem to be working—she no longer felt she should jump out of Akane’s window and try to aim so she landed on her head.

 

“Psst.”  Akane nudged Ranma and passed her a small object.

 

“What is it?” Ranma inquired.  “Hey, it’s warm!”

 

“It’s a hot water bottle,” she explained.  “You can keep it while you’re sitting here, anyway.”

 

“It’s filled with hot water?  Talk about trouble, looking for a place to...  ahhh....”  Ranma literally moaned in pleasure as Akane pressed it to her stomach.  The redhead would have liked to know a great deal about the whys of that one, as she was certainly stumped.  How should hot water pressed to her stomach help?  Was it cold, and that was why it was giving her all this trouble?  Geez!

 

Unable to look a gift horse in the mouth for long, Ranma thanked Akane.  How did girls learn about this stuff?  “I feel normal again,” she announced sotto voce to Akane.  “Only a bit of pain, and I can deal with it.”

 

“Great, Ranma!  I’m glad I could help.”  She offered the other girl a dazzling smile.

 

Ranma bit her lip and sighed.  Akane could look so beautiful like that, when she was helping people.  Maybe she’d become a nurse, or something, so she could help people all the time.  The downside was that while Ranma loved being helped by Akane, and sometimes needed her aid, it seemed that was all the other girl wanted of her.  Somebody to play mother to.  When Ranma was certain she felt... something else.

 

The redhead blushed, her situation becoming clear to her for the first time.  She was in a very nice guy’s house, under false pretenses—the pretense that she was female and had always been—and she’d been sleeping with his baby girl for about a week now.  Neither sister knew about her curse, either, though they knew about her past.  Not only was she freeloading as of yet (she’d only been to work at Tofu-sensei’s once) but she was also setting herself and everyone in this house up for a giant disappointment.

 

Failure as a woman, she thought to herself glumly, failure as a man.  You don’t know what you’re doing Saotome Ranma!

 

The only thing Ranma knew about Soun Tendo was that he was unpredictable.  She had no way of gauging his reaction if—no, when—he discovered she was a guy.

 

“Does it still hurt that bad?” Akane inquired solicitously.

 

Ranma broke off her depressed musings for a moment to shake her head.  “Just thinking of something sad,” she replied.  “Akane... what was the homework yesterday?”

 

Akane beamed.  “You can copy, just this once,” she said softly, and gave Ranma a wink.

 

The redhead sighed. 

 

Just as Kasumi was placing their plates in front of them, Nabiki stumbled downstairs.  “Whereza pain killers?” she demanded.  “Oh!”  Her eyes met Ranma’s.  “Congratulations, I had no idea it was your first time.  Welcome to the hell-once-a-month club.  Kasumi,” she growled.  “Painkillers.”

 

Akane leapt up and offered Nabiki the bottle she’d given Ranma.

 

“Thanks, li’l sis.”  Nabiki gulped four of them, chewing.

 

While Ranma and Akane’s features twisted into identical pictures of disgust at the thought of chewing bitter aspirin, Kasumi laid Nabiki’s plate in front of her.  “Isn’t it... a bit off, dear?”

 

“Yeah, it’s a bit off,” Nabiki growled.  “It wasn’t supposed to be here for another day or two at least.”

 

“Oh my!  I suppose little Ranma has managed to yank us all a bit off-course.”

 

“Huh?” Ranma looked up from where she’d been eating.  “I... I didn’t mean to...”

 

Kasumi ruffled her hair.  “Not a problem dear.  We’ll just have to plan ahead.  Akane?”

 

Akane nodded.  “Yeah, sure oneechan.”

 

“You’re not telling me you girls all get it at the same time?  No way!” Ranma laughed.

 

The three Tendos stared at her in something like shock.

 

“Oh, Akane, this so falls to you,” Nabiki said.  “Give me the damn hot water bottle, Ranma, you’re done with it.”

 

“But—”

 

“Gimmie!!”

 

Ranma sighed, but forked it over.  Immediately she started to feel worse, but not half as bad as before. 

 

“You well enough to go to school, Ranma?” Akane inquired.

 

“Bring the medicine and I think I’ll be okay,” the redhead replied, grabbing her bookbag in one hand and standing.  “Thank you for the food, Kasumi—it was very good.”

 

The pair bowed and ran outside.

 

“She walks in beauty like the night—of cloudless climbs and starry skies.  And all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect, and her eyes.”

 

“Kuno!” Ranma and Akane exclaimed.  Ranma’s voice was amused, but Akane’s had a decidedly rough edge.

 

Kuno smiled at them both, bowing to Ranma, and continued: “One shade more, one ray the less, had half impaired the nameless grace which waves in every raven tress, or softly lightens o’er her face—”

 

“Raven tresses?  You’re not allowed to talk to me, Kuno,” Akane warned.

 

“...where thoughts serenely sweet express how pure, how dear their dwelling place.” [6]

 

Ranma grinned, thinking Kuno had described Akane perfectly.  She clapped delightedly, but turned to see Akane fuming.  “You’re not allowed to talk to me!” she repeated.

 

“Lady Ranma, did you enjoy that?” he queried.

 

“It was pretty,” Ranma admitted, unable to keep a wry smile off her face.

 

“I was reciting for your pleasure solely,” he said quietly, a wry smile on his own features.  “Just so you know.”

 

“Ah.”  Ranma nodded wisely, then altered her expression when she met Akane’s eyes, which were full of anger and scorn.

 

“I’ll die before I let some boy beat me!” Akane barked.

 

Kuno’s grin slowly disappeared as Akane spun on her heel and continued towards the school.

 

“Do you know what that means?” Ranma inquired, staring after the other girl.

 

Kuno shook his head rapidly but silently.  “Why does she continue to surprise the both of us so?” he demanded finally.

 

Ranma shrugged.  “Because that’s who she is,” she said softly, an expression of puzzlement adorning her features.

 

Kuno blinked at the redhead.  “Indeed, that is so,” he replied, but he kept staring at Ranma, who gazed unblinkingly after Akane.

 

“I want you to do something for me.”

 

“What is this favor you ask?”

 

“I want you to apologize to Akane.”  The redhead continued walking for several paces before she realized Kuno had halted in utter surprise.

 

“But... for what?”

 

Ranma tripped on her own feet.  “Heh... heh...”

 

“Did I offend her in some way?”

 

Ranma wondered, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, if Kuno understood just what a big dolt he was.  “Just apologize.  Don’t say why, don’t say what for.  Just apologize.  In the best way you know how.”

 

Kuno considered for a moment.  “What you say is wise, Saotome Ranma.  If I have offended her in some way, this is my best chance to discover it.”

 

“Ah... yeah,” Ranma replied.  “What you said.”  Ranma grimaced as she ran through all her problems in her head.  “Hey—one other thing.  Where did you get those photographs of me ‘n Akane?”

 

“Those lovely shots were taken by Tendo Nabiki.”

 

“Only Nabiki?”

 

Kuno paused, considering.  “Oh—no.  There was also that forgettable fellow, what’s-his-name.  Ah.  Yes.  Gosunkugi.  Hikaru Gosunkugi.”

 

For a moment, Ranma realized what people meant by ‘seeing red’.  Her closed fists shook with repressed emotion.  “Oh, he is so dead.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Well, what do you think, that me and Akane liked our home being invaded like that?”

 

Kuno considered.  “But, it means that you are desired—desirable!  Isn’t that what you want?”

 

Ranma growled, then forced herself to calm down.  “Look, I don’t know where the hell you get your information on women, but we don’t exist to be admired.”  Ranma didn’t like how easily that ‘we’ had come to her lips, but she tried not to show it.

 

“I’m sure that’s the way it seems to you...” Kuno replied.

 

Ranma’s eyes widened briefly in surprise; could he really be that stupid?  Then her lip curled in disgust.  “If that’s how you want it—on guard!”  Ranma brought her hands up in front of her and narrowed her eyes.

 

“But... Lady Ranma...”

 

“If you won’t listen to sense, I’ll have to beat it in you!”

 

“I... I apologize...”

 

“Too late!  I won’t forgive you!” Ranma cried, and attacked.

 

Immediately, the redhead noticed something different in the way Kuno was attacking her.  To rephrase, he was not attacking.  He dodged most of her efforts, simply taking a hit if and when he had no other option.  “Lady... Ranma... please!” he interjected.

 

Ranma took a deep breath and stepped back.  “Well, it is more of a beating, ain’t it...”  She paused, blushing as she suddenly realized what she’d just done—and right after promising that gym teacher guy she wouldn’t!  Boy, she could be so dumb sometimes.  “Gee, Kuno, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have done that...”

 

“No... I am certain I needed... to be punished.”

 

Ranma blushed again for a reason she couldn’t quite define.  “I...I...” she stammered briefly before gathering herself together.  “Look, you’ve just got a lot to learn about girls, okay?”

 

“And you’ll teach me?”

 

The redhead turned to face him, taking aback by the degree of hope in the boy’s voice.  His expression was a bit more open, too: his usual smirk was in place, but his slightly widened eyes and the tilt of his chin indicated somehow that he was mocking himself all of a sudden.  “Yeah, maybe,” she replied jauntily.  “If you behave yourself, that is.”

 

They had finally reached the school; Kuno held the door open for her and she slipped inside.  “Don’t worry, Lady Ranma,” he replied with a smile.  “I trust you to give me a decent whap when I make a mistake.”  With a cheerful wave, he took off down the hall in the opposite direction from the redhead.

 

Ranma sighed.  “Great.  A guy who likes to be hit by girls.  How do I get myself into these situations?”  After a moment, though, her expression of bemusement shifted to pure anger.  “When I get my hands on Hikaru, I’m going to murder him!”  She clenched her fist in front of her and growled.

 

“Wait, no, wait a minute.  I need to solve this without using violence.  But how am I going to do that?”

 

Ranma spent the greater part of the day chewing her pencil and staring off into space, scarcely paying any attention to her lessons.  Maybe she could just scare Hikaru?  Imply he’d be injured? 

 

To fight because of boredom, or to show someone you’re bigger and stronger is cowardice.  Akane had told Ranma she believed that, the very first time they’d met.  Even though it was less than a week ago it seemed like eons.  And though Ranma had been surprised to hear a martial artist say that at the time, it seemed to make a great deal of sense now, especially in light of the way she’d lost control yesterday.

 

A beam of warm sunlight illuminated Ranma’s features.  She smiled, and closed her eyes.  She might just know a way—but she’d need Akane’s help, and Mister Tendo’s, too.

 

Ranma’s blue eyes invariably drew to Akane, like magnet to lodestone.  It seemed like ever since she’d started hanging around Kuno, Akane had been getting more and more angry with her.  Although she’d accepted Ranma’s apology last time—more or less—she appeared to have expected Ranma to give Kuno up.  And Ranma, having two friends in this world—three, if you counted Nabiki—was not willing to do such a thing.  Especially when the whole school appeared to be against her, otherwise.

 

Well, Ranma could link up the first plan with a second.  Oddly impressed with her own cleverness, Ranma began to focus on her lessons.

 

At break, she moved to the back of the room purposefully.

 

“What do you want?” Hikaru demanded.

 

“Hmph,” the redhead replied.  “Good.  And how are you?”

 

“Busy.”

 

Ranma snatched his sketchbook briefly away.  “Interesting material,” she said softly.  “You have Akane’s eyes just right.”

 

“Give that back!”

 

“Listen, Hikaru,” Ranma replied, dancing around him.  “LISTEN!  And you’ll get it back.”

 

The other boy froze.  “Why do you want to torment me?”

 

Ranma blinked at him.  “Boy, you have a soul after all.  Okay.  I’m willing to make a deal with you.  You’re bored, aren’t you?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Well, you sit around all day, drawing and imagining stuff, and taking pictures...”

 

He gulped, and brought his hands in front of his face instinctively.

 

Ranma stared at him.  “Geez, kid.”  She was suddenly even happier she hadn’t decided to hit him.  “Listen up.  You don’t take any pictures of either of us—you don’t draw us or spread rumors about us—and I’m willing to give you something in return.  Are you even listening to me?”

 

Hikaru lowered his hands.  “I didn’t—”

 

“You did,” Ranma replied.  “Don’t bother denying it.  And if I catch you doing it again–”  The redhead paused, unable to complete the thought.  What, exactly, would she do?  She couldn’t hit this guy, not somebody so weak.

 

Apparently her little trail into nothingness and her thoughtful, faraway eyes caused Gosunkugi endless torment.  Ranma sighed; he had a way better imagination than she did, she guessed.

 

“W-w-what’s the deal?” he stammered.

 

“I’ll teach you martial arts,” Ranma announced calmly.

 

There was a brief silence in which he blinked at her in sheer incredulity.  Then he began to laugh hysterically.  Several students turned to stare at the pair.

 

“Shh!”  Ranma pressed both hands against his mouth.  “Baka!  I’m serious!”

 

“Muh at’s upith,” he proclaimed.

 

“Huh?”  Ranma leaned back, removing her hands.

 

“That’s stupid,” he replied coldly.  “Look, Ranma, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but if you’re going to beat me up for taking pictures of you, I’d rather you did it right now, rather than in some excuse for a training exercise.”

 

“Clever.”  It was the first thing that came to mind, although Ranma decided she probably shouldn’t have said it aloud.  It seemed too much like a confirmation for her taste.

 

“Hah!  I know.  Besides, even I know Anything-Goes Martial Arts isn’t accepting any students.  The Tendo Training Hall’s been closed for years.”

 

Ranma brightened.  “That’s where you’re wrong.  I have another student already, training under me n’ Akane.”

 

“Oh yeah, who?”

 

Ranma smiled innocently, letting the question hang in the air a moment.  “Kuno Tatewaki.”

 

“N-no way!”

 

“Way.  And Tendo’s already given me his permission.  He said I’m far enough along in the art to begin teaching.”  Or at least, that’s what I hope he’ll do when I ask him.  “So whaddaya say, Hikaru?”

 

He slowly became slightly less guarded.  “U-uhm... why do you want me to train with you?” he inquired in a small voice.

 

“I want you to stop lurking around my yard without permission, that’s why,” Ranma replied tartly, “and I’d rather do it without beating you up.  Not that I couldn’t,” her pride forced her to tack on as she eyed him critically.  “Besides, I figure if you’re busy with martial arts, you won’t have the time to be so obsessively gloomy.”

 

His face fell, and for a moment, she wondered if she’d gone too far.  “How do I know you’ve really got another student?” he demanded, but in a much less belligerent tone than the one he usually used when speaking to her.

 

“Baaaaka.  I thought you were the brilliant one.”  She rapped him smartly on the forehead.  “Who else could’ve told me you were responsible for the ecchi photos?”

 

“I’ll consider it,” Hikaru finally replied after a long pause.

 

“You’ll consider it,” she replied, her voice dropping several degrees, “or I’ll have to consider my other options.  I’ll give you ‘til the end of lunch to decide.”

 

When Akane met Ranma’s gaze questioningly, the redhead winked.  She was new at this kind of stuff, but she was pretty sure she had him.  Not only that, but she’d done it with a minimum of threats and absolutely no violence. 

 

At lunch, seated under the infamous oak tree, Ranma explained her plan.

 

“Ranma, are you serious?  That’s nuts!  We’re not old enough to teach!  You’re sixteen, like me—right?”

 

Ranma nodded.  “Doesn’t matter.  I’m already way more skilled than most people ever get.”

 

“Well... me, too... but...”

 

“Besides, how hard can it be?  We just do it and they imitate us!”

 

“We—they?”  Akane raised her eyebrow.  “Saotome Ranma,” she tacked on in a threatening voice.

 

Ranma laughed nervously.  “Well—you’ll help me, won’t you, Akane?”

 

Akane sighed.  “I guess.  It’s just sparring, and I have to start again someplace.  But I don’t ever want to have to hurt somebody again, Ranma.”

 

“If you’re good enough, you don’t have to,” Ranma replied.

 

Akane sniffed.  “There’s always someone better.  Still... I guess you’re kind of right...”

 

“Great!  Now our other student—the other half of the ‘they’...”

 

“Lady Ranma!”

 

Ranma blinked.  “Speak of the devil!” she exclaimed.

 

Akane bristled.  “You don’t mean to tell me that he’s...”

 

“Akane Tendo.”

 

Akane stared at Kuno.  “Oh, so you’ve decided to address me at last, upperclassman.  Guess your promises aren’t worth much.”

 

“Lady Ranma bid me speak, and so speak I must,” he replied.  “Especially since both edicts came from her lips.” 

 

Akane shot the redhead a murderous look; Ranma, in turn, tried to look innocent and placating at once, a look that said please, endure this just one moment longer.

 

“I must apologize,” he continued.

 

Akane’s neck swiveled so fast that Ranma was certain the Tendo girl would be getting whiplash.  “Huh?”

 

“I have been grievously unfair to you, dear Akane,” he continued, his voice low and heartfelt.  “I cannot imagine how I could have done you such a wrong.  I beg forgiveness.”  He knelt next to her.

 

Akane’s eyebrows went up and down and her mouth opened and closed.

 

“Now, for what is it that I am sorry?” he inquired of Ranma, who attempted to shush him, too late.

 

When Akane whirled to silently stare at the redhead again, Ranma instantly resumed her please understand what I’m trying to do here look.  “Heh.  Well, he’s trying...”

 

“He sure is,” Akane responded flatly.  “Upperclassman, I’m going to try to explain this just once more, and then never again.  Do you understand me?”

 

He nodded.

 

“I listed all your wrongs for you in the past.  A day or so ago, to be perfectly precise.  Despite what people sometimes say about me, I don’t enjoy being cruel and so I won’t enjoy repeating myself.  But you force me.”

 

Ranma met Kuno’s gaze.  She sensed that he, for once, was taking Akane Tendo seriously.  “Go on, madam,” he implored.

 

Akane nodded.  “You have hounded me, most improprietously.  You made a challenge for me, about me, which I had no part in.  I did not appreciate boys swarming me every day.  You drove others away from me-- the girls in jealousy, and the boys because they’d begun to elevate me to the status of a goddess, a status that I did not want.  Either that, or they followed me around, undressing me with their eyes.  You caused this situation, Kuno, and I am very, very pissed off about it!”

 

“But... my lady?”  The second half of Kuno’s query was directed towards Ranma, who nodded, giving him permission to speak.  “It was not I who created that situation; you did.”

 

Akane blinked.  “Huh?”

 

“Your radiant beauty was not a secret before I shouted it o’er the rooftops; the other young men at school would have worshipped you and the other ladies would have been jealous were I never to have attended Furinkan.”

 

Akane paused for a moment, obviously charmed.  “That’s as may be,” she finally replied, gathering herself.  “But you set up that entire challenge situation.  It’s so demeaning, Kuno!”

 

“It seems more of a homage to your exquisite self,” he countered.  “That fight is a shrine to your very desirability.  ‘Helen, thy beauty is to me, as—”

 

“Now is not the time to recite,” Ranma snapped, feeling she had to save the situation as best she could.  “Now listen, Kuno.  Did you hear what she said?”

 

“She did not like to be fought over in such a manner,” he repeated dutifully.

 

“It’s no use, Ranma,” Akane said in an angry, frustrated growl.  “He’s repeating what I’m saying, but he doesn’t understand.”

 

Ranma fought with despair.  “Okay, look, Kuno.  Lemmie try to paint a picture for you.”

 

“Inks?”

 

Ranma whapped him on the back of the head, as promised.  “Close your eyes, idiot.”

 

“If you wish it.”  Obediently, Kuno’s eyes closed.

 

“Now, imagine you’re a girl.  Better yet... you’re a girl who has your personality, unaltered.  You’ve got a girl’s body.”

 

Akane almost snickered.

 

“And all these guys are rushing you.  They’re imagining having sex with you, and the sole reason they fight is because the little perverts are happy you touch them, even if it is with fists and feet.  This goes on for ages.”

 

Akane broke in, sounding a lot less amused.  “They think you like hitting guys.  They even put whips and handcuffs in your locker as a joke—or as an invitation, you can’t be sure which.”

 

“And there’s this one guy in particular, who keeps egging them on.  Full of himself,”

 

“skilled and all, really,” Akane added, “though he seems to think he’s god’s gift-”

 

“who just from the fact that you’re breathing and female assumes you’d want him.”

 

“Do you understand?” they demanded in unison.

 

He opened his eyes.  “So the girl is Akane?”

 

“He can be taught!” Ranma exclaimed.  Seeing Kuno’s hurt look, Ranma’s eyes softened.  “You have to admit you’ve been pretty dense about this,” she said in a slightly more reassuring tone.

 

“All of those boys are thinking of you as a sexual object?” he demanded of Akane.  “Why—if I thought that, I’d... I’d...”

 

“Much as I hate to ask this, and as much as I’m sure I’ll regret it,” Akane began timidly, “exactly how is it that you think of me, upperclassman?  If not like that?”

 

Kuno put a hand to his heart in abject shock.  “Why—as my future wife of course!  The mother of my children!”

 

Ranma dropped further until her face was pressed into the dirt.

 

Akane merely started giggling despite best efforts.

 

“And you think...” Ranma mumbled.

 

Akane and Kuno leaned closed towards Ranma; it was hard to make out her words with her face pressed into the dirt like that.

 

“...you think that’s what most of the boys want Akane for?  For a wife?”

 

The pair drew back. 

 

“Of course!” Kuno exclaimed.

 

“Handcuffs,” Akane reminded him dryly.

 

“Perhaps they believed those things—the whip and the handcuffs...” he cleared his throat suddenly, “...would aid you in battle?”

 

Akane barked a laugh; Ranma mumbled something to the earthworms.

 

“...perhaps not...”  Kuno looked bemused.  “I must admit a concern for your welfare, then, Tendo Akane.  If all those boys...”

 

“I defeat them all the time, don’t I?” Akane demanded in that same, dry tone.

 

“But... an ambush, or...”

 

“It’s been done,” Akane broke in.  She yawned, one hand flapping over her mouth unconcernedly.  “Boy, I’m sleepy!”

 

“Why, this is atrocious!” Kuno exclaimed.

 

Ranma put one hand up into the air to make a point.  Still to the earthworms, apparently, although Akane could guess what she was telling them.

 

“That is not what I wish of you, Tendo Akane,” Kuno finally said calmly.

 

“Well, good to know.”

 

“So you forgive me?  You’ll go out with me?”

 

“No!” Akane exclaimed.  “Haven’t you been listening?”

 

“But we’ve just cleared up this little misunderstanding between us!”

 

“Kuno—I.  Don’t.  Like.  You.  And nothing you say is going to change that!  While you’ve elevated yourself slightly above the rest of the drooling horde just now, they have the moral integrity of pond scum in my book!  I won’t date with you and I don’t want to marry you either!  Besides... I already have someone I like.”

 

Ranma sighed, lifting her face out of the dirt and moving her fingers quickly through her bangs to dislodge particles of soil.  She thought she knew whom Akane was talking about.  A flash of glasses and Joi’s barking came immediately to mind.

 

Kuno swallowed.  “I am sorry I have caused you so very much pain, Tendo Akane.  You will always have been my first love, and I will always admire your beauty, though it be from afar.  However—you need fear no more... overtures... from me.”

 

Akane sighed in relief.  “Thank you, Kuno-sempai,” she breathed.

 

“That said...” Ranma broke in with a grin.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Akane recalled, sounding reluctant.

 

“Would you like to train with us?” Ranma queried.

 

“Under us,” Akane stressed.  “We’d be your teachers.”

 

“Does my Lady wish it of me?”

 

Ranma considered.  “Kuno, it’s your decision.  You’ve admitted to me that the two of us are better than you.  Well, we can help bring you up to speed—if you’ll have us.”  Ranma’s face split into a grin.  “Besides, you need to learn more about girls— if you wanna survive, that is.”

 

“Agreed, then: I shall walk the road of heaven[7].  When doth my training commence?”

 

“It just did,” Ranma replied with a wry smile. 

 

It was what her father had first said to her when they set out for their very first training mission.  The idea that everything was training had somehow stuck with Ranma, far more than many of Genma’s other ideas[8], and kept him sharp.  Even more than that, it had impressed upon the martial artist that all of life should be taken as a fun but complex challenge, a puzzle to be sorted out; it was Ranma’s cornerstone and support, not just in martial arts but in everything.  Whenever a difficult situation came up, Ranma usually just thought of it as good training.

 

“I’m in training now?” Kuno inquired doubtfully.

 

“Yes,” Ranma replied casually.  “Be outside to walk us home after kendo practice, okay?  Then you’ll see what I mean.”

 

Hikaru Gosunkugi came trotting up to the trio.  “H-hi,” he stammered, revealing his nervousness.

 

Ranma put on her kindest expression; he was usually so defensive.  “Hey.  Made up your mind?”

 

The small boy nodded nervously.  “I’ve decided... okay.  Yeah.  If you can promise I won’t get hurt.”

 

“I can’t do that,” Ranma protested.  “You could easily pull a muscle or something.  I promise you won’t get seriously injured, though, not if I can help it.”

 

“It’ll have to do,” Hikaru replied.  “H-h-h-hi, Akane,” he stammered, suddenly seeming to realize she was there.

 

“Hi, Hikaru,” Akane said smiling at him. 

 

Hikaru mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘she spoke to me!’ and stared off into space with a dazed grin.  After Kuno jabbed him in the leg with his elbow accidentally-on-purpose, he came slowly out of his daze.  “S-so when do I start?”

 

Ranma made a mental note to keep him around Akane way more often.  He was a lot nicer!  “Right now.”

 

“Thursday’s good for—huh?”

 

Kuno smirked.  “Training has already begun,” he intoned.  At a glare from Akane, his smirk dropped. “So I’m told,” he added.

 

“Now?  I mean, already?  But... I’m not ready!  I’m not prepared!”

 

“Which is why we’re training you.”

 

“We?”

 

“Yeah, Akane and me,” Ranma replied gamely.  This got the expected response.  “Well, maybe just me, at first,” she conceded dryly.

 

Akane looked confused.  Boy, the girl just didn’t know a guy liked her unless he ran at her screaming AKANE, DATE ME!, did she?  Maybe she’d just gotten way too used to that approach.

 

Ranma looked around at the three of them, suddenly feeling a great deal of significance attach to the moment.  Her first students.  Did she really know what she was getting into?  Akane was hard enough to handle, but Kuno was twice as difficult, if not more so.  And Hikaru was so defensive and prickly that she could scarcely speak to him without becoming angry herself.

 

This will be good training, she thought firmly.

 

*****-----*****

 

Gym class was so boring for Ranma that she ended up using it as an excuse to train.  “I saw you two,” Akane said as the pair of them retrieved their belongings from their lockers.  “Poor Hikaru!  He looked half-dead!”

 

“I made him stretch,” Ranma protested defensively.  “Besides, he has to know it’ll be hard on him.  And I only made him jog around the gym three times!”

 

“He ran like the wind.  Jog my foot.”

 

“He’s fast for a beginner,” Ranma noted, “and flexible, too.  Though man, he’s graceless!  Well, we’ll see.”

 

“You’re really serious about this!” Akane exclaimed.  Her expression clouded.  “I don’t know how daddy’s going to like the idea of us taking students.”

 

“I’m going to have to leave it up to you to broach the subject with him,” Ranma warned.  “I have work after school.  We could both do it at dinner, but something tells me you’d have more success than I would.”

 

“Maybe,” she conceded, pushing her hair behind one ear with a sweep of her hand. 

 

“I’m counting on you, Akane, so try your best, okay?”

 

Akane straightened perceptibly.  “I’ll try!”  Then her face fell.  “Ranma, about Kuno...”

 

“Look—he’ll keep hounding you for the rest of your life unless you deal with him,” the redhead asserted.  “And I think that this is the best way.  You can teach him manners!”

 

Akane blinked for a moment as she considered this, but then she shook her head.  “You can’t teach somebody manners like that.  I sure can’t.”

 

“But Akane, you taught me manners!”

 

The dark haired girl colored.  “I... that is...”

 

Ranma was somehow oddly satisfied to see her stammer trail off into nothingness.  “Come on,” she said.  “Let’s get to class.”

 

*****-----*****

 

Block.  Strike.  Weave.  Duck, stab.

 

“Point!”

 

Block.  Block.  Parry, feint.  Weave.  Swish!

 

“Point!”

 

Hop.  Block.  Block.  Parry.  Block.  Weave.  Sweep.  Duck.  “Oof!”

 

“Point!”

 

Lean, block, crossguard strike, weave, swish swish swish!  Strike!

 

“Point—third point and match, to Tatewaki Kuno!”

 

“You got one past me, underclassman.  It takes a great man to have the ability to strike a Kuno.  You are fierce.”  He bowed.

 

“You flatter me, sempai!”  The freshman bowed too, flushing from more than the exercise and obviously suffering from—or enjoying—a staggering amount of hero-worship.

 

Kuno turned.  “Lady Ranma!”

 

“Patterns, patterns everywhere,” Ranma replied.  “Your students don’t seem to think.”

 

“Heh!  Well, indubitably you, at least, will point out my flaws.  Shall we go?”

 

Ranma stood, followed by Akane, who brushed her skirts fastidiously, avoiding Kuno’s eyes.  “I have to go to work, so Akane-san will have to take up your training after three.  And if she tells me you’ve misbehaved, I shall be most put out.”

 

Akane raised an eyebrow at the redhead, who winked.  She’d gotten the hang of how to deal with Kuno surprisingly quickly.  It was becoming an instinct by now.

 

Kuno paused in walking to bow deeply in Akane’s direction.  “I would not dream of insulting her, nor would I dare.”

 

“Good to hear.  Are you ready, Sir Kuno?”  Ranma’s voice was light and full of mischief.

 

“I am.”

 

Ranma pointed up to the fence beside her.  “Then—up!”  The redhead’s feet left the ground as though she’d merely pushed off.  She landed on the fence, balancing easily on one foot, her other knee pulled to her chest and both arms out.  “Come on, Kuno!  Akane!”

 

Akane frowned.  “Not ‘til he does.  I don’t want him to see up my skirt.”

 

Tatewaki Kuno blinked up at the redhead, his expression anxious.  “Why—madam—I am not sure—”

 

“And ‘not sure’ and a dollar will get you a ride to Tokyo Tower, young student.  Up!”

 

Kuno visibly gulped, but put his briefcase down and jumped.

 

He almost landed on Ranma, who managed to leap back several feet just in time.

 

Waving his arms wildly for balance, he almost managed to hit the other girl several times.  “If I’m defeated by your ineptitude alone,” Ranma said snidely, ducking as one of Kuno’s flailing arms narrowly avoided slapping her, “I’ll never forgive you.”

 

Suddenly he steadied, as if by magic.  Ranma peered behind him to see that Akane had grabbed his shoulder.  “Calm down,” she said in a surprisingly even voice, “or you’ll fall straight off of here.”

 

The redhead blinked.  Akane was standing on the fence like she did it every day, her feet bare—she had removed her shoes and socks, and held both her bag and Kuno’s in one hand.  Otherwise, she looked as collected and comfortable as if she were standing on solid ground.

 

Ranma’s eyes moved back to Kuno, who was wobbling only slightly, now.  In contrast to Akane, he appeared oddly discomfited.

 

“Turn,” Ranma commanded.

 

Kuno blinked at her.  “H-how much?”

 

“All the way around,” Akane commanded, “ ‘til you’re facing me.”

 

Ranma nodded; Akane was anticipating her.

 

Kuno blinked.  “I... I’m not sure I can keep my legs like...”

 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!”  Akane lifted the kendoist bodily and turned him around.

 

Ranma stared, unabashedly amazed.  Akane had lifted Kuno like he was made of balsa wood!

 

Kuno appeared to be similarly startled, but Akane either did not notice or did not care that the pair were staring at her like they’d never seen her before.[9]

 

“Walk,” Ranma commanded, shaking off her surprise.

 

Akane began to stride forward, her arms out for balance.  “Well?” she called over her shoulder.

 

Kuno continued, too, arms out, walking carefully down the chain-link fence, Ranma close behind him, watching for any sign he was about to tip.  Akane, for her part, did not appear to need such babysitting.  She kept her arms out, but that small concession to the danger was the only one she paid; her strides were smooth and she did not seem nervous in the slightest.

 

“Keep up!” Akane ordered, as though walking at an everyday pace on the top of a fence was a perfectly normal thing to do. 

 

Kuno and Ranma followed her, albeit slightly more slowly.  After a moment, Ranma put her arms down, convinced Kuno was not about to fall.  In movement, it was somehow easier to keep balance; he was moving more smoothly, now, his steps more assured.

 

After several minutes, they finally arrived at the Tendo house.  Akane dismounted, her skirt flying up to her waist and revealing to the world that she had chosen to wear polka-dotted panties that day.

 

With a groan, Kuno fell off of the fence face-first, a trickle of blood running out of one nostril.

 

“Whoops.”  Akane frowned at the fallen boy.

 

“You did that on purpose,” Ranma accused dryly.

 

The Tendo girl gasped.  “Did not!”  But her lips twitched as she turned on her heel to go get her gi.

 

Kasumi came sweeping towards the genkan as the pair entered the Tendo home.  “Who is your guest, Ranma?”

 

“Oh!”  Ranma grinned.  “Sorry.  This is Kuno Tatewaki.”

 

Kasumi’s smile widened.  “Oh my, how wonderful!  Father, Ranma has a guest!”

 

Soun came in from the dojo looking slightly sweaty in his brown gi.  “Ah, who’s this?”

 

Kuno bowed.  “Kuno Tatewaki, at your service.”  He cleared his throat.  “There are those who call me Kuno.”

 

“I see.”  Soun’s smile widened in exactly the same fashion as Kasumi’s had.

 

Ranma and Kuno were startled into exchanging a wary glance with one another.  Kuno frowned in consternation.  “You told me you’d let me know when I said or did something inappropriate,” he accused in a slight undertone.

 

She shrugged helplessly.  “Sorry – I’m as confused as you are.”  She turned back to the pair.  “Kuno’s a martial artist,” she added to Kasumi and Soun, who were still looking like they’d won the lottery.

 

“Why, how marvelous!” Kasumi exclaimed.  “Kuno-san, would you like some tea?”

 

“Kuno-san?  Did I hear Kuno-san?”  Nabiki came down the steps like a gazelle, using her weight and momentum to bound down until she was face-to-face with the increasingly uncomfortable Ranma and Kuno.

 

“I’ll go make some tea,” Kasumi finished without a discernible break.

 

“I hope your intentions are honorable with our Ranma,” Soun admonished, draping an arm around the redhead’s shoulders.

 

Kuno blinked.  “I think you misunderstand.”

 

Nabiki placed one hand over her mouth in utter shock.  “You’re dating!”

 

Akane followed her sister down the stairs.  “I’m...” she trailed off at the tense tableau with which she was confronted.  “...ready?”

 

“She’s not my lover, she’s my sensei,” Kuno broke in.

 

Ranma whapped him across the back of the head.

 

“Ow!  What was that for!”

 

“For saying something inappropriate,” Ranma replied dryly.

 

Kuno observed the shade of red currently decorating Soun’s face and sighed.  “You didn’t tell him.  How was I supposed to know?”

 

“Oh wow, this is great,” Nabiki murmured to herself.  “Where’s the tape recorder when you need it?”

 

“Daddy, I can explain,” Akane said quickly.  “Ranma and I thought it might be a good time to reopen the dojo – that is, if it’s okay with you.  We only asked two people if they might be interested.  We thought... maybe...”  She offered up wide eyes and a trembling lower lip.

 

Soun shook his head.  “Akane, how could you even consider asking students to the dojo without my permission, much less consider asking them to train under you?”

 

“It’s my fault,” Ranma broke in.  “I asked Hikaru and Tatewaki, not Akane.”

 

Soun paused.  “Well, there’s no use sending them away now, is there?  For now,  Akane, you two are not training anyone – you are simply practicing with fellow students of the art.  Do you understand?”

 

Akane looked chastened.  “Yes, daddy.”

 

Soun turned to the redhead.  “Ranma?”

 

“Yes, uh...”  Ranma blushed as she attempted to search her mental databanks for something to call the man.  She frowned.  “Er, yes, I understand.”

 

Soun’s lips quirked and he shrugged.  “Well, son,” he said to Kuno, bowing formally, “welcome to Tendo-Saotome Anything Goes.”

 

*****-----*****

 

 

Ranma moved to put her nurse’s apron on immediately.  Even though she’d already told Tofu-sensei that she didn’t like it, he’d insisted, saying that not only did her street clothes appear unprofessional, but that he wouldn’t want them to get spattered with blood.

 

Despite the ruffles, his words had managed to change her mind immediately.

 

“Ranma!”  Doctor Tofu moved into the back room where Ranma was finishing tying the apron’s bow at the small of her back.  “How are the Tendos?”

 

“Uhm... they’re fine, sir.  Akane’s good, Nabiki seems cheerful... Kasumi seems really keen on my finding a boyfriend...”

 

“K-K...”

 

“Uhm, doctor?”  Ranma hadn’t known that Tofu’s little fits could be brought on by Kasumi’s name.  It was just too much!  She backed away quietly as he twitched.  “Doctor?”

 

“Hm?”  The doctor finally began to realize where he was again.  “Oh yes!  I came in here to tell you we’ve got our work cut out for us today and I may need you to stay late.  If that isn’t a problem?”

 

“Uhm... I have an engagement, but I’ll stay as late as I can.”

 

“Fair enough,” the doctor replied with a smile.  “You’re going to get to do some actual medicine here today, Ranma.  We’ve got a lot of patients because of a stomach virus that’s going around.  In fact, I’d like you to move Mr. Hibiki to the back room, please.  He’s asleep again, and doesn’t need any immediate treatment.”

 

“Again?  He woke up?!”

 

Tofu nodded.  “Briefly and deliriously.  He’s pulling through, Ranma, but it’s a tough fight.  Just wheel his cot back, if you please.”

 

She nodded and, tightening her apron with a determined expression, set to work.

 

The influx of patients wasn’t rapid, but it was steady enough to keep Ranma extremely busy.  It seemed that just as Tofu released a patient, a new one would take his place.  The doctor would check the patient’s tongue and ears, take his temperature, and hand out a prescription for an antibiotic.  After the sixth patient thanked the pair and moved to go, Ranma probably could have done Tofu’s routine herself. 

 

Every now and then she would check on Ryoga, although his condition seemed pretty stable and he didn’t have much of a fever anymore.  He turned and mumbled once in awhile, but other than the occasional nightmare he appeared to be much better than the day before.

 

One little kid, overtaken by the virus and without much control, threw up all over everything.  Repeatedly.  The redhead scrubbed and held her breath.

 

Once in the day, Ranma changed Ryoga’s bandages—an unpleasant but necessary task.  The black had receded to a small spot the size of a quarter, and the redness that surrounded it had shrunk to the size of her palm.  The girl nodded, satisfied, applying more antiseptic cream and new gauze.  Ryoga really did have the healing abilities of a high-caliber martial artist.

 

Martial arts!  Ranma’s eyes flew to the clock and she felt a sinking sensation surround her stomach as she realized she’d missed Hikaru’s training session.

 

At least Akane had probably been there to do it for her.  In fact, she’d probably still been helping Kuno when Hikaru arrived.  Thank goodness for small favors.  She’d simply let the time get away from her.

 

Immediately Ranma moved to her desk and picked up the phone.  “Hey, Nabiki.  Is Akane there?”

 

Nabiki’s caustic voice sounded on the other end of the line.  “Boy are you in trouble, Saotome.”

 

“Heh.  I know that, I know that.  Things are really crazy over here at the clinic.”

 

“Just a sec and I’ll get my sister.”

 

Ranma waited, the sinking sensation in her stomach getting worse with every passing moment.  She found herself tapping her foot.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hiya Akane,” Ranma said, her tone of voice telling of her shame and apology already.  “I’m really sorry I didn’t make it.  Everyone’s getting this stomach virus and I was stuck here—I didn’t even realize how much time had passed.”

 

“Well...”  Akane’s voice trailed off.  “It was kind of a disaster, Ranma.”

 

“What?  Why?!”

 

“I couldn’t get Hikaru to do what I wanted him to, and then he and Kuno got in a fight about it.”

 

“Hikaru wouldn’t do what you wanted him to?” Ranma demanded incredulously.

 

“Maybe couldn’t,” Akane admitted, sounding nervous.  “Maybe I went too fast?”

 

Ranma grimaced.  She had really wanted this to work out; beyond her desire to practice martial arts and pass those skills on to others, she had really wanted to help Hikaru.  He seemed like he could be a really nice guy if he just let his guard down once in awhile.  The sinking sensation seemed to drag her through several sheets of bedrock.

 

“Ranma?”

 

“Sorry, thinking.  It’s okay, Akane.  We’ll just try again tomorrow, all right?  It’s really all my fault.  I’ll be there next time, I swear.”

 

“No, it was my fault.  Daddy wasn’t upset, if that’s any consolation.”

 

Ranma sighed in relief.  “Great, but—”

 

A crash sounded from the back room.

 

“Listen, Akane, I’ve got to go.  I think Ryoga’s actually awake!  I’ll talk later.”  She hung up the phone, hoping Akane wouldn’t be offended by her haste.  “Doc!” she called.  “Our patient’s up!” 

 

Ranma jogged to the door and opened it.

 

What she saw almost shocked her to inaction.

 

Two figures struggled in the darkness: Ryoga, and what was obviously a female.  Ryoga was losing badly, greatly weakened by his injury; the other figure in the darkened room was taking advantage of this fact.  As Ranma blinked in sheer incredulity and denial of the scene before her, the female figure punched Ryoga right in his wounded ribs.

 

The boy let out a truly agonized scream and staggered back, clutching his wound with one hand.

 

Ranma finally re-gathered her sense and switched on the light.  Both combatants turned to stare at her.

 

Ryoga’s eyes were wild and unreasoning, bestial almost, and for a moment Ranma thought he was going to rush her simply from the look in his eyes.  The other figure was...

 

“It’s you!” Ranma exclaimed.  “The Amazon!”

 

Shampoo’s eyes narrowed and she smiled, apparently overwhelmed by her own luck.  “Ranma,” she announced, flipping the sai in her hands.  “Good to see.”

 

“Shit,” the redhead announced.

 

“Ranma, what is it?  He’s awa...”  Doctor Tofu trailed off as he viewed the situation.  Stepping in front of Ranma, he spoke to the purple-haired girl.  “You are not welcome here, miss.  I suggest you leave.”

 

Shampoo probably didn’t understand him, but she caught the implied threat anyway.  She laughed, a high, crystal clear sound, like crushed glass.  She beckoned to the doctor.

 

With a sudden lunge that took both Ranma and the doctor by surprise, Shampoo stabbed at Ryoga with her sai.  Ryoga, who had not been staring at the doctor as Shampoo had, was ready for her, and dodged.

 

Tofu-sensei moved to intercept the Juketsuzoku maiden, his eyes hard.

 

“Ryoga, get behind me!” Ranma ordered, placing herself between Shampoo and her patient.

 

The Chinese girl’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Ranma, her lip curling in disgust.  “Kachu Tenshin Amaguriken!” she exclaimed suddenly.

 

Ranma fell back, the air pushed abruptly out of her lungs, as if Shampoo had his her hundreds of times, rather than just once.  She dropped to her knees, coughing and gasping.

 

All of a sudden, Shampoo slumped, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

 

Tofu Ono was revealed as she fell, his hand still rigid from the final strike.  He blinked down at the girl’s sleeping form, the only one left on his feet.  “Are you all right, Ranma?  Ryoga?”

 

A smile appeared to be deciding whether or not it had any business on Ranma’s face.  She’d never been saved by anyone before.  With a self-depreciating shrug, the redhead took Tofu’s hand and pulled herself to her feet.  “I’m fine,” she replied.  “Just had the wind knocked out of me.”

 

“Ryoga?” Tofu queried.

 

Ryoga stood with the help of his cot, pulling himself to his feet.  “Uh—this may seem like a sort of weird question, but... uh, how do you two know my name?  And  where am I?”

 

“You don’t recognize Ranma, here?” Tofu queried.  “She said she knew you from junior high.”

 

The redhead winced, but managed to smile at Ryoga in a pained sort of way anyway.  What she’d been fearing had happened—about ten minutes after Ryoga had woken up. 

 

“But that’s impossible,” Ryoga predictably replied.  “I went to an all-boy’s junior high.”

 

Tofu blinked, watching as Ranma colored.  “Oh.  Oh!” the doctor suddenly exclaimed.  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you or anything, dear,” he announced to Ranma.  He put a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “I didn’t realize.”

 

“Realize what?” Ryoga demanded.

 

“Well, Ranma here has been raised as a boy,” Tofu replied.  “Everyone must have thought she was a boy, at the time.  She must have been enrolled in school as a boy as well.”

 

“Huh?” Ryoga demanded.  “A boy?  Why...”  Suddenly, it seemed like he’d frozen solid.  “Ran-ma...?” he queried.  He peered at the redhead with new eyes.  “Ranma Saotome?”

 

Tofu nodded, patting the redhead on the back.  “See?  There’s no need to be so nervous, Ranma.  I’m sure that Ryoga here doesn’t mind that you’re a girl.”

 

Ranma just continued to stare at her feet.  “Eh...” she finally managed to murmur.

 

Ryoga mumbled something under his breath that sounded like a curse.  He looked extremely confused, and the redhead didn’t exactly blame him.  If she’d suddenly found out Ukyo was a girl or something, she’d be blown away. 

 

“You should feel very lucky that your friend Ranma found you at all,” Tofu added helpfully, not seeming to notice the silence of the two teenagers.  “She and Akane pulled you out from underneath a bush in Nerima Public Park.  Without the two of them, and the other Tendo sisters, you’d almost certainly be dead by now.”

 

Ryoga’s expression, if anything, fell even more.  “You mean—Ranma saved my life?”

 

“It wasn’t anything like that,” Ranma assured the floor tiles.  “The other girls did way more than me, I just sat there kind of uselessly, waiting for the doctor.”

 

“And changed Ryoga’s bandages every day as well, Ranma; don’t forget that.”  The doctor turned to address Ryoga.  “Shortly after that, Ranma became my assistant, and she’s tended to you very faithfully.”

 

Ranma frowned.  “Doc, you’re making it sound like—”

 

“You did?”  Ryoga was staring at Ranma with an almost painful amount of disbelief etched across his features.

 

“You have a problem with that?” Ranma demanded, one eyebrow raised, her voice cool.

 

“Now the question is, what do we do with her?” Tofu queried, nudging Shampoo with one foot.

 

Ranma blinked, almost having forgotten her would-be murderer.  A very stupid thing to do, she decided.  “She’s probably here without a passport, not to mention the fact that she hurt Ryoga,” the redhead proclaimed.  “We could probably have her deported.”

 

Tofu looked at the sleeping purple-haired girl in pity.  “I wonder why she came all this way.”

 

Ranma for her part had no compunctions about seeing the Juketsuzoku warrior as a common criminal.  She knew the girl to be a fierce hunter who had stalked her across the greater part of China, and all for no easily discernible reason.  Of course, the girl’s honor had been slightly besmirched by being so easily defeated, but that was no reason to murder somebody!  It had been a friendly match, after all—or so Ranma had thought at the time.

 

Ryoga moved to gingerly lower himself to the edge of his cot, hissing in pain.  “A girl,” he mumbled to himself in a low voice.  He snuck a glance at Ranma from under his lashes, quick but scanning, and Ranma knew he wasn’t lamenting over being beaten by Shampoo.

 

“Eh heh,” Ranma tittered nervously.  “We should tie her up, don’t you think?”  She moved to the closet where Tofu kept supplies for repair and found a length of nylon cording.  In moments, Shampoo was tied to one of the large benches in Tofu’s main office.

 

The doctor released the pressure point, waking the Amazonian maiden.  For a moment, Shampoo seemed startled, confused.  She thrashed wildly before Tofu’s soft voice calmed her.  He knelt next to her and began speaking, trying out different dialects of Chinese.

 

While Ranma paid as close attention to their hushed conversation as she could, trying to catch the occasional word or phrase, Ryoga seemed to be attempting to light the redhead on fire with his gaze.  “What?!” she demanded, but Ryoga turned away.

 

Tofu-sensei stood.  “Ranma, would you call the police, please?”  His face was very pale.

 

“Y-yeah,” she stammered in reply, and strode over to her desk in the waiting room.

 

Shampoo looked at the Ranma, then Ryoga, and trilled something that sounded question-like.  Tofu responded, sighing, his hands rubbing his temples.

 

“What is it?” Ryoga demanded nervously. 

 

“I don’t like what I’ve just heard.  There are three important pieces of news here, and none of them are particularly sunshine and roses.”

 

Shampoo was staring at Ryoga, a curious look in her eyes.  Tofu kept a close watch on her. 

 

“This girl here—Shan Pu—wishes to kill Ranma.  If an outsider female defeats her, she is required to kill her.  By law.  That or some other things that Shampoo didn’t appear to want to get into.  Apparently death is the most honorable thing you can do, not just for yourself but for the person who defeated you.”

 

The redhead sighed upon her return, running her hands through her hair.  “I heard that.  As in... the other option is a fate worse than death?  That is what you’re saying, isn’t it, doc?”

 

Tofu attempted to smile, but what ended up happening was that one side of his lip twitched, like he had a nervous tic.

 

“Lots of people out to kill you,” Ryoga murmured to himself, running one hand distractedly through his hair.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Ryoga lifted his head, startled.  “Did I say something?” 

 

The redhead’s jaw firmed as she turned back to the doctor.  “What else?”

 

“There seems to be a... problem.. with Ryoga’s injury,” Tofu said.

 

“What kind of problem?” Ryoga demanded.  “I’m not going to die or anything, am I?”  He laughed nervously.

 

And Shampoo, knowing the word ‘die’ very well, since she’d practiced saying it in Japanese, looked up from her scrutiny of Ryoga and nodded cheerfully.

 

 

 

*****-----*****
*****-----*****

 

Author’s Notes:  Whoo!  This was a difficult chapter to put together.  A great deal of it ended up being cut, and as a result, I combined chapters five and six to make the length fit.  Originally, there was a cute, quirky little scene with Hikaru’s training (at school, in the gym) but it really didn’t fit with the rest of the story I was going for.

 

Yes, I know that Tofu says that there are three pieces of news and only informs Ranma and Ryoga about two of them.  He’s keeping the last piece to himself for now.

 

I also know that what Shampoo has told Tofu is a contradiction of what she learned from Genma.  She obviously knows that Ranma is a boy, and therefore she needs must marry him rather than kill him.  But she is keeping that to herself.  ;)

 

Are you actually beginning to like Kuno at this point?  He’s been my favorite character to write in this series.