Ranma 1/2

Disclaimer: I don’t own Ranma, Rumiko Takahashi does. I just borrowed some of the characters. Rated: NC-17

Shades of Home

Chapter 20

The next week was interesting for Ranma and the strike team he joined. The first day started out with . . .

“Damnit, he’s just a little kid. How the hell are we gonna fight and protect him too? What’s the matter with those idiots’ upstairs? Well.. hell.. let’s introduce ourselves and see what’s up.”

“Ok.. Uh.. You speak English kid?” At Ranma’s nod he continued, “I’m Sergeant Jake Conroy; I’m commanding officer; this is Spc. Dave Peck, Spc. Ron Rio, Communications Specialist Pete Franklin, Private Douglas Sam, and Private Skeeter Jones; Medic. We’re all Marines detached from SpecOps. last week; and you are?”

Ranma shook hands all round. “Saotome Ranma, You can call me Ranma.”

Ranma wasn’t expecting the Americans to understand Japanese naming conventions and settled for getting them to call him Ranma instead of letting them find out that they’d been calling him by his last name. Americans were funny about using given names.

“Ok, Ranma; we need to get you suited up. We want ya t’ feel you’re part of the team and the first thing is t’ get ya a proper uniform.”

“Nice knife. SP-24 isn’t it? Know how to use it? I’m a qualified instructor if ya want a training session.”

Ranma took the offer in the spirit it was offered. “Naw, I’d probably hurt ya. I’m pretty good. I’m a George so I’m competent in all forms of unarmed and bruit force weapons; sharps, soft and hard.”

All six men looked at him skeptically.

“Nani? Nani yo? Don’t tell me I’m gonna have trouble already. I’m good I tell ya! Want me t’ prove it? I’ll be glad t’ but if someone gets hurt it won’t be me.” Ranma wasn’t taking separation from his group as well as he’d hoped he could. He was going to have to rely on these men for at least a month and he was starting out wrong.

“Matte . . . matte. Shimaimasen. I... damnit, I’m sorry. I just ..I hate it when people treat me like a kid! I’m older than I look and good at what I do. So . . . can we go back?” Ranma was hoping that his apology would get him some recognition; it did.

“Shit! We’re sorry too. The Boss said we had to give you a chance but; damnit, you look younger than my kid brother. He’s fourteen. How old are you?” Sergeant Conroy was doing all the talking so as not to confuse the kid by too many people chattering at him at one time.

Ranma winced; fourteen? “I’m sixteen plus.” Ranma pulled his pigtail. “Damnit we’ve got t’ work this out. We have t’ learn t’ work together. It’s not gonna work if we keep gettin’ into pissin’ contests at the drop of a hat. I’ll tell ya what; just treat me like I’m your age. If I can’t keep up, I’ll tell ya and if ya can’t keep up with me, holler; how’s that?”

Everybody nodded and Conroy said “Ok, sounds good t’ me. Come on; we need t’ get ya GI. That’s Government Issue. We’ll get ya all the same equipment and stuff we’ve got.”

After over an hour Ranma was equipped with a full foot locker of G.I., just like the other members of ‘his’ team. He didn’t think he would use half of it but the Supply Sergeant had insisted. And if Samuels said he needed it he’d take it.

“Here let me help you with that; it’s got to be heavy.” The bigger man reached out to take one handle of the locker. “Naw, I got it. Thanks . . . Uh . . . Rio is it?” Ranma hoisted the locker onto his shoulder and looked up at the man. “Where do we go from here?”

“Barracks are this way; we’ll get you a bunk and settled in. Are you hungry? You sure you don’t need help? Sarg will skin me if he see’s you hauling that and I’m not helping.”

Ranma grinned at Rio. “Here . . . I carried it half way . . . now you carry it. I don’t think it would be easy for us to carry it together; you’re too tall.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe you’re too short. Damn that’s heavy!“ Rio staggered slightly at the weight of the locker. {This kid’s carrying the damn thing by himself and I can barley manage. I’m twice his size. Holy shit!}

After settling Ranma in, the whole team headed for the mess hall. Ranma settled in with a tray and began to eat.

As he shoveled food into his mouth Ranma decided he’d better get what he privately called the Rules of Living with Ran-chan out in the open. It was almost too late. Skeeter reached out toward Ranma’s tray; to offer him a piece of bread; but Ranma reacted like he always did. He covered his tray and snarled at Skeeter like a junk yard dog.

“Hey! Geeze, I only wanted to give you this bread! What the hell’s wrong with you? You act like you’ve been starved.” All the men were giving Ranma peculiar looks. “I heard about you getting in a fight with some guy over grub but I thought it was just a Latrine-o-gram.”

“Well . . . I am a little . . . a lot touchy about food. I’ve always had to fight my Pop off my food and then . . . well you don’t need the gory details just . . . Uh. I’m not sure how to put this . . . ” Ranma stammered to a halt; these guys were going to think he was crazy no matter what he said.

“Hell Ranma-san just spit it out. We’re all old war horses here; if you got a twitch; we need to know about it.” The entire team was looking at him patiently, just waiting for him to work up the nerve to get on with his story.

“Ok . . . I’m pretty fucked up in the head. You can’t touch my food. Period . . . I shouldn’t even eat in the mess. And you can’t slap me on the back or touch me unexpectedly.”

Just then a man who mistook Ranma for someone else slapped him on the back. Ranma’s reaction was to turn around and grab him by the throat. He let go just as suddenly as he grabbed him and sat down panting.

“Sorry . . . Sorry . . . I.”

The offender just apologized too; “Hey! Wrong guy . . . thought you were someone else . . . didn’t know you were in heavy combat. No, I’m ok; he let go before any damage was done.” The man hurried off rubbing his throat.

“See . . . maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I need t’ go back and talk t’ . . . ” Ranma started to get back up and find Steven.

“No ya don’t! We see what ya mean. Damnit, I’ve seen vets who spent years in Viet Nam who acted just like that and some a’ us aren’t much better. Or any worse . . . whatever. We’ll just have t’ deal with it. Where did ya see combat? And how long were ya there?”

Ranma sighed, he didn’t want to tell these men his sorry tale; he didn’t want them to pity him or think he was a freak.

Specialist Peck interrupted “Hey Sarg; give the kid a break. He’s just had a real scare and he doesn’t need a bunch a’ strangers’ pressurin’ him t’ tell things he obviously doesn’t want t’. Let him finish eatin’ in peace; why don’t cha?”

Everyone went back to eating, thinking their own thoughts.

~ * ~

Ranma followed the others back to the barracks. He looked at the bunk he’d been given, it was too close to the other men so he decided to move to a different bunk.

“Can I take this bunk instead a’ that one? I have nightmares and I don’t want t’ wake everyone up. I tend t’ scream.”

“Hell . . . take any bunk ya want; but if you’re a screamer just stay where ya are, you’ll wake us all up no matter what. Ya scream around a bunch a’ guys like us and we’re all awake and ready t’ fight off the baddies. Ya know?”

Doug winked at Ranma with a grin.

Ranma did, so he decided to stay where he was; he was beginning to think that this was going to work out.

“Here, you remember me? I’m Doug Sam. We need t’ get you fitted with this vest. If it isn’t fitted just right, you’ll be sorry. Ya wear it in all trainin’ exercises and especially in combat. After that we’ll fit your equipment harness. After this you’ll be expected t’ fit and care for it yourself. Ok? Any questions you have; ask as we go along.”

Ranma allowed himself to be fitted with a vest and something called an Alice harness. It was fairly comfortable and he saw that everyone else had the same gear within easy reach. {They’re paranoid as I am} Then came the hard part; Doug started fitting Ranma with a holster but he knew he had no business with any kind of gun.

“I don’t need that. I don’t know anything about guns. That’s your department. I’m more the hack and slash guy.” Ranma watched as all the men looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

“If ya can’t use a gun what the hell are ya doin’ on a strike team? How are ya . . . No matter . . . maybe that‘s one a’ the reasons you’re here. We’ll take ya over t’ the range and teach ya right now. Come on. Here; I’ll carry your issue until we get there.”

“By the way; I really respect that ya admitted ya don’t know about guns; that was really good work.”

On the way Ranma was filled in on the Glock 10mm he would be carrying, as well as the AK-47 T5. Ranma was doubtful of his need for any kind of fire arm but the guys seemed so happy to have the opportunity to show off their equipment he just went along with it.

At the outdoor firing range the first thing they did was go over gun safety; twice. Both weapons were explained fully and carefully; safeties were shown and Ranma was drilled for over an hour. Take it apart; put it together; show safeties and do it again. He found that he was more interested in guns than he realized.

“Ready t’ shoot?” Sarge asked handing Ranma a clip. “Ya got fifteen rounds here. With one in the chamber that’s sixteen chances t’ do damage. What d’ ya think?”

“I think anyone who carries a gun around with one in the chamber had better be going into combat in very short order.” Ranma knew that there were three safeties on the Glock and two on the AK-47 T5 but he was now aware that the best safety was using his head.

Damn; Ki . . . ”

Ranma interrupted, “Look . . . I know you’re just tryin’ t’ be friendly . . . but that just sets my teeth on edge. I’m too old t’ be called kid and too young t’ be called much else. Could ya just stick t’ Ranma?”

“Yeah . . . Ranma’ I’m sorry; you’re right. Anyway . . . I’ve met grown men with less sense than you. Come up t’ the firing line; put on your gear. Remember . . . that thing is gonna kick so be ready t’ get it back down for your second shot. It’s not unusual for your second shot, and third t’ go over the target completely so don’t be disappointed if there’s only one hole in the target. Only fire three shots!”

“Ok . . . I got it . . . only three . . . space them . . . be ready for recoil.” Ranma summarized his instructions and then he took his first shot.

It was loud but the head gear filtered out the explosion without making it necessary to take it off to talk. The second shot was easy and the third even easier. He was using a two-handed grip with his left hand under the butt of the pistol. It was easy to control the bucking hand gun; he wondered why they seemed to think he would miss two out of three shots.

“Not bad . . . I think you at least hit the paper . . . lets take a look.” Jake activated the target track and brought the target up to the bench. “Frag me! Would ya look at that? He hit all three times right on the X. I thought ya said ya never shot a weapon before. How’d ya do that?”

All the men just examined the paper with astonishment. Ranma had hit the bull’s eye right in the center; the only reason you could tell that he’d hit three times was because even Ranma couldn’t hit exactly the same spot. The edges of the bullet hole were clipped, showing where all three bullets had entered the target at slightly different places.

“Uuummm! Martial artist here? Hand eye coordination a big must? It’s just a different use of skills I’ve already learned. I can throw stuff and hit the target. It’s not much different.”

Ranma grinned as the men all made a big deal of him. It was nice; for once someone gave him a ‘well done’ instead of getting on his case about some little thing.

“Thanks guys. Can I shoot some more? This is fun. What else can I shoot? Can I try the AK-47 5 please?” Ranma was going for it. If these guys were interested in teaching; he was going to learn, you never knew when something might come in handy.

After firing the AK-47 T5 and proving that he was just as good with it; Ranma realized that it was getting late and he was hungry; so they packed up their range bags and headed for the mess.

In the mess Ranma noticed that the team seated him between Rio and Pete with his back to a wall.

~ * ~
The next day was uneventful in a busy sort of way. Ranma worked out early; just telling his new teammates that he was going and would be back in time for breakfast. After eating breakfast they all went to the Training area.

Ranma was taught how to put on and take off free rappel harness. His first few questions had pissed off the Jump Master. His lecture had included a list of what could happen if you just jumped out of a helicopter at 150 feet and an opinion of Ranma’s intelligence which offended him.

“Look . . . I don’t know how you do this insertion thing. I just know what I can do and I can jump out of a fifth story window and land without rolling! Ya want me t’ prove it I will; but you’re right about one thing, my Pop is a Konoyarou no baka. Let’s get back t’ business.”

The Jump Master gave up and just ran Ranma through procedures again and had him do some free rappel’s from a tower. After Ranma did several, he decided to prove his point by jumping from the top of the tower; which proved the point that he could jump free and stick a landing; but the Jump Master yelled at him anyway.

“Stupid little shit. Ya sprain an ankle and we’ll be behind schedule waiting for ya t’ heal. And don’t scare me like that; Danmit!”

As they were heading back to the Barracks after rappel practice Pete asked Ranma what he’d meant the day before when he’d said he was good with soft weapons. So Ranma explained about rope darts, flails with balls, fans, manriki and chain whips

“I’m good with all a’ them. I practiced with manriki as soon as I could hold one and as I got bigger Pop trained me with bigger weapons. Would you like me t’ demonstrate? I gotta rope dart and a chain whip in my stuff back at the barracks.”

Ranma decided to show them that he wasn’t untrained in weapons just trained in different ones than they were familiar with.

When they got back to the barracks Ranma got out a rope dart made from a small piece of machined steel and fastened to a cord made of silk. He took it outside and began a kata with it; starting with some simple swinging attacks he moved on to thrown attacks and then to attacks which used the force of a swing to snap the dart out from the angle of the arc using centripetal force to multiply the attack by several degrees.

“Wow, did ya see that? Ya could kill someone with that thing and stay outa reach. Can ya teach us that?”

Ranma shrugged, he hated to disappoint them, they looked so eager; “Yeah, I suppose so. If ya want t’ spend four or five hours a day for about three years just working with soft weapons I suppose I could get ya up t’ my level. Ya gotta be careful with this kinda’ weapon. They’re the hardest t’ master. Pole arms an’ swords an’ throwin’ pins an’ stars; they’re easy because ya aim them but soft weapons ya gotta have a knack for. Pop beat it into me early so I’m good. Didn’t have a choice.”

Rio looked at Ranma and replied for everyone. “Takes that long t’ get good? Forget it. I’ll stick t’ my gun . . . But don’t joke about your Pop.”

Ranma decided not to make an issue of it

~ * ~

The third day it happened; Ranma the Shit Magnet was right where he should be when the old jump tower collapsed on several men who were sitting under it.

Everyone within ear shot converged on the spot. You could hear men groaning and screaming as the weight of the tower’s rubble settled and began to crush them.

Men started to climb onto the pile to try removing the mass of timbers and angle iron.

“NO! No! Get off. You’ll make it settle and crush them.”

Ranma knew what he was talking about; Japan is subject to earthquakes on an alarmingly regular basis so he and some of the other men were aware of the problems of collapsing structures.

“We have to figure out where the victims are and brace the rubble so it doesn’t settle before we try to remove it. Everyone start out around the edges and try to locate them.”

“Hey . . . Ryouga . . . start a hand to hand. There’re some sand bags over there. We can use them to brace up this mess when we find someone. I’ll crawl in and . . . I hear someone now . . . get busy.”

Ranma crawled into the mess on his belly. The chances that he would be crushed too were high enough that he didn’t want to think about them, but what could he do, these men needed help and he was one of the few small enough to get in and find them.

What if they needed immediate medical attention? He wasn’t the best, but he could keep them from bleeding out before they could get them to a real medic.

He reached the man he had heard groaning. “Hey . . . what’s your problem? Where does it hurt you?”

Ranma felt along the man’s body; as much of it as he could reach. He wasn’t cut anywhere but the rubble was crushing him to death.

“Can’t breathe.” The man was struggling for air, desperately trying to get his compressed lungs to expand.

“Ok, buddy. I’ll take care a’ that. Don’t worry about a thing! We got cha.”

Ranma crawled out and piled up several sand bags; he crawled back in pushing them ahead of himself. Several trips gave him enough bags to pile under the beam crushing the man. He knew that this wasn’t the wisest thing to do but he couldn’t let the man die.

First, he piled the bags under the beam as high as he could go without touching the beam directly. Then, making sure the rest of the bags were within reach; he braced his back under the beam and lifted it by straightening his legs. Piling more bags under the lifted beam; he watched the now semiconscious man to see if he was breathing better. He was; so Ranma crawled out and looked around.

One of the older NCO’s had organized the group of men. They were now working around the edges of the mess; removing the rubble, taking care not to make the pile shift or settle.

Ranma approached the man, “How we doin’? Gettn’ anywhere? I got that guy over there set so he won’t get crushed.” Ranma showed the NCO where the man was. “What cha need me t’ do now?”

The NCO looked at Ranma; he knew who he was and so he shook his head. “Don’t know. We’re in deep shit. We need a crane but it can’t get here for another hour, by then this mess will have settled enough to crush at least two men. I see what ya did for Charlie but we got three others trapped in the middle a’ that mess. It’s like Pickup Stix. Move one and half dozen others shift. I wish we could get an overview but all the choppers are away. Damnit! We’re gonna lose men.”

Ranma hollered at Ryouga to come over. “Look . . . I know you won’t believe this but we can get an over view. Ya just have t’ trust what we tell ya. We’ll save these guys.”

“Ryouga you take first jump and I’ll follow ya. Then we’ll compare notes and figure this out.”

The NCO watched in amazement as Ryouga then Ranma jumped over the whole mess then put their heads together. After some argument they both jumped back over and Ranma told the NCO, “There’s no way you can do this anyway but from the top. I’m not sure what those stick things you were talkin’ about are but that pile is jumbled to hell and back; if ya move the wrong thing it’s all gonna collapse on those guys and kill ’em all.”

“Ryouga and I are gonna climb t’ the top and start pulling it apart. We’re light enough we shouldn’t make it settle too much.”

At the NCO’s disbelieving face he snarled, “What are we gonna do? Just wait around for it to mash ‘em without at least trying? Get someone t’ crawl in and check that the pile isn’t settlin’. If we start t’ make it shift give a yell. Otherwise we’re doin’ it wether ya like it or not.”

Ranma and Ryouga climbed to the top of the mess and started to remove the heavy wooden beams and iron work. Motioning for everyone in one area to move they just started throwing the wreckage into the field beside them.

It took them almost an hour of hard work to get the pile reduced to its component parts. As they reached someone they stopped long enough for the medics to stabilize the man and get him out then they went on.

The other men helped by removing everything small enough for them to lift. Passing pieces of rubble hand-to-hand and piling it out of the way. Some was used to shore up the larger pieces to keep the pile stabilized enough to prevent it collapsing on the trapped men.

“OK! Hey! Stop! That’s the last man. Ranma give it up. Come on.” Franklin pulled on Ranma’s arm to get him to let go of the beam he was trying to lift alone.

Ranma focused on Franklin, “Huh? Oh, good I don’t think I could lift this alone; I need Ryouga to help, but if they’re all out the fucker can just sit.” Ranma staggered out of the remains of the tower behind his comrade. “Damn I’m tired. I could use a drink, too”

Ranma started to sit down but made it only as far as bending his knees a little. “Shit! Where’s Ryu? I need to see if he’s ok. “ Ranma looked around, seeing Ryouga sitting a little way away he walked over and sat down beside him.

“Good team work, Ryu. I couldn’t have lifted some of that stuff by myself and kept the whole mess from collapsing at the same time. Thanks . . . Hey! What the hell happened t’ your hands they’re all bloody.”

Ryouga held his hands out. They were raw meat; cut, blistered and bloody. He’d torn them up handling splintered beams and sharp metal.

“Same thing that happened t’ yours. You’re no better off than I am.”

Just then one of the men from Ryouga’s temporary team saw them.

“MEDIC!! Over here! Now! Men down! Damnit, you two! Don’t you idiots have gloves?”

The man took Ryouga’s hands in his and swore some more; Ranma was glad to see that Ryouga’s teammates took care of him.

He was to find out that his teammates were just as concerned. “Frag me! Damnit, I knew I forgot something. I forgot t’ get ya any gloves . . . shit! This is all my fault . . . Ranma why didn’t ya say something?” Sam was on a complete blame me party “Here; let’s wash off some of the blood and dirt.”

Ranma sat down on the ground and tried to clench his fists, he didn’t want anyone touching him but Sunny. But when he tried to close his hands he realized he had splinters everywhere; which made closing his hands painful, so he just let them hang between his knees.

“Don’t touch me. I’ll wait for Sunny.”

Two Medics arrived just then, “What we got? Damn! Raw meat. You kids didn’t have gloves? What the hell? I can’t do anything with this. His hands are full of splinters, cut t’ hell and blistered on top a’ that. We got t’ get him t’ the ER.“

“No!” Ranma jerked away from the Medic. “I want Sunny. No one else touches me. Ever. Get Sunny.”

Ranma was starting to really hurt now and didn’t want anyone touching him. Ryoga was in much the same fix and he didn’t want anyone else touching him either

“Ok, I know you guys are special. We’ll get Sunny for ya. Just hang in there.” The Medic spoke into the repeater mic. attached to his vest. ”She’ll be here . . . five minutes. She told me t’ tell you t’ let me run some saline over your hand’s Try t’ wash off some a’ the debris. Hold still will ya?”

Ranma had heard Sunny over the man’s earpiece “Ok, just don’t mess with it.”

The Medic opened a saline bag with his knife and started to pour the contents over Ranma’s hands; it stung.

“Iiiittaaii! Shimatta! K’so!!” Ranma swore at the pain. “Damnit, just stop. It hurts.” The Medic just got hold of Ranma by his right wrist.

“I know soldier. It’s got t’ hurt but if she shows up and I ain’t done what she said it’s my ass in a sling not yours so hold still and let me do my job.” The Medic let go of Ranma’s right wrist and took the left. Treating his left hand to a dose of the saline brought about a spate of swearing; in English this time

“Well mister; I don’t know about you but if I talked like that at your age my Mother would’a washed my mouth out with soap.” The Medic was hoping to distract Ranma from the pain and just said what popped into his head first.

Ranma’s reply stunned his team mates. “Na! I haven’t seen my Mom since I was six. She probably wouldn’t care. All she cares about is if I’m manly enough to avoid her making me commit Sepuku. Where’s Sunny?”
No one could think of a thing to say.

Sunny showed up in time to break up any more discussion.

“Ran-chan, what the hell have you been doing. Your hands are full of . . . ”

Ranma interrupted Sunny before she could get any farther, “Ryu first, he’s worse off than me. I think he broke a finger . . . fix him up. No, don’t argue with me just do it! You’re not touching me until he’s done.”

Sunny didn’t argue with Ranma; she just took care of Ryoga first, even though Ranma was worse off by far. She knew he wouldn’t go first. He was a good officer, my men, then me. Period.

When she got to Ranma, he was laying on his back gritting his teeth and holding his hands across his chest, trying not to touch anything. Sunny took his hands in hers, “Here . . . one of you help him sit up. I need him vertical for this; I can’t see from this angle . . . Ok, that’s good.”

Conroy had lifted Ranma to sit braced against the bigger man’s chest. As Ranma leaned back he got a really good look at his hands; they were cut, scraped and bloody; the cuts were also full of dirt and ground in rust and who knew what else; they were also peppered with splinters.

“Son-of-a-bitch, Ranma.” He sputtered to a stop; Sunny was healing Ranma. The dirt and rust were oozing out of the cuts like pus; then the splinters popped out of Ranma’s flesh dropping to the ground. The cuts and blisters healed over as if they had never been.

“I better go to the ER. Mom probably needs my help with the rest of the men. That’s where I was headed when they called me. Ran-chan? Get some gloves, Koi no baka.”

Sunny hurried away never realizing what she had said.

Ranma stared after her with a stunned expression on his face.