It's taken me a while to get part 5 together.  My apologies, and I hope
it was worth waiting for.

This section is pretty long.  As usual, I�m releasing it against better
judgment... I could stand to go through it once or twice, but I�m sick
of looking at it.  Feel free to pound on me for any and all errors
because of this.  ^_^

Monkey Head Butting!
m a davis/miko  belldandy@angelic.com
http://www.fortunecity.com/tatooine/pratchett/199/

This story will be more than 6 parts total. Probably 8 at this point.  I
have sections of the rest of the story written -- my method of  writing
is not linear; I tend to write the first scene that occurs to me, and as
scenes accumulate I string them together and put them in some
semblance of order, and at some point I go back to the beginning and
start writing from there, filling in everything that I haven't already
written yet and working out all of kinks and problems.

Sorry for the goofy title.

Characters are copyright Takahashi Rumiko, no infringement
intended.  This is a fan work only, not for profit.

Monkey Head Butting
Part Five

     By Friday, Ranma had settled into a routine.  Routines were
easy for the martial artist; they required no thought, just action.  You
performed a kata over and over, until it was as natural as walking,
and as calming as meditation.  That was how you learned martial
arts.
     In this case, Ranma's katas were different.  She got up in the
morning and prepared breakfast.  That was a kata.  She assembled
lunches for the  three students.  That was another kata.  She went
upstairs to make the beds, and gather up the dirty laundry.
Everything was a kata -- hanging the laundry to dry, sweeping,
scrubbing the floor of the bath.  It was all martial arts of a sort, when
you got down to it.  That was the essence of "Anything Goes" martial
arts:  life was martial arts.  It all depended on how you looked at it.
     It was no wonder Kasumi was so good at what she did; for
she was a martial artist by birth and training.  Nabiki, too,
approached finance with the attention and determination of a true
martial artist.  It was the youngest Tendo, Akane, the 'actual' martial
artist, who had the weakest grasp on what "Anything Goes" martial
arts was really about.
     That was how Ranma saw it, at least.  *If only Akane could
figure this out,* Ranma thought to herself, as she washed the dishes,
*maybe she wouldn't be such a klutz, or such a bad cook.  All it
takes is concentration.*
     The day passed quickly.  Nodoka arrived, but only to watch
Ranma work, and talk; already she had little need to provide
instructions.  Her son/daughter learned quickly.

     "When is your father going to find a way to reverse this
situation?" she asked over tea.
     "I have no idea," Ranma replied,  "but I'm not holding my
breath.  Kasumi and I will have to find our own solution."
     Nodoka looked irritated.  "Doesn't he realize that, as long as
this continues, you can't wed Akane?"
     A sweatdrop appeared on Ranma's head.  "I, uh... think he's
got that part down," she said quietly.
     "Well I wish he'd do something about it.  The family's honor
is at stake."
     Ranma said nothing, knowing that some of her mother's
statements were set in stone and not meant to be discussed.  As far
as she was concerned, any marriage should wait until Akane and
Ranma's high school graduation, at the very least.  She was pretty
sure Akane felt the same way.
     "So, how are you dealing with this?" Nodoka asked.
     Ranma fidgeted.  "I don't know... I guess I'm okay."
     Nodoka's hand drifted to the family sword which lay on the
table.  She still carried the thing just about everywhere she went,
which made Ranma nervous, and absolutely terrified her father.
"Ranma," she said, "your father is a master of running from his
problems.  I would hope you've learned better than to imitate him."
     "What do you mean?" Ranma asked, confused.
     "I mean it's obvious, even to me, when something's bothering
you, but you hide your thoughts and emotions and pretend to shrug it
all off.  I'm sure your father taught you that, but I am your mother.  If
you can't tell me what's wrong, who can you tell?
     "Now, tell me again.  How are you dealing with this?"
     Ranma swallowed, and stared off into the distance for a long
time.  Nodoka waited patiently.  Patience was something her son
didn't get a lot of, which was certainly part of the problem.
     Finally Ranma spoke.
     "I don't know," she said, "it's just... well, I don't want to be
stuck this way, of course.  But when I don't think about it, it's really
not so bad... and I think that scares me the most.
     "Other than that, I guess I miss school.  Not the homework,
so much, but just being around friends... what few friends I have,
anyway.  It's not like I have anyone to talk to around here; Kasumi's
only real friends are the other women in the neighborhood, and I
don't have anything in common with them."
     She began flexing her hands, forming fists over and over.
"I'm even starting to miss my battles with Ryoga, and Mousse, and
even Kuno, if you can believe that.  I don't mind a fight now and
then, and Ryoga always keeps the pressure on me to work hard and
improve.  I need to keep my edge.  I don't want to be like Pops, and
never reach my full potential."
     "You will reach your potential," Nodoka said authoritatively.
"You have honor, and courage.  If your father did one thing right, he
taught you to never give up.  I'm not sure how he accomplished that -
- I suppose by providing an example of what not to do -- but however
you learned it, I'm glad you did.  But I think there are some things I
can teach you, too."
     "Yeah," Ranma said, glad to be on more concrete footing.
"I've been meaning to ask you about that... can you teach me to cook
better?"
     Nodoka frowned.  "You're already a decent cook, Ranma."
     "No," Ranma said, "I mean like you or Kasumi.  Aren't there
any special tricks, or maneuvers, or whatever?  Is there some secret
technique that makes the food taste better?"
     Nodoka looked very perplexed.  "Special tricks?  Secret
techniques?  Son, cooking is not martial arts!"
     "Everything's martial arts!" Ranma insisted.
     Nodoka digested this for a moment.  "Well, given your
upbringing, I guess that makes sense to you.  But Ranma... why do
you want to cook like me or Kasumi?  You are my son, not my
daughter!  You are not going to become someone's wife!"
     "What?  Mom, that's sick!  What makes you think I'd want to
do that?"
     "Well?  Surely you don't plan on becoming a Chef?"
     "No!  Of course not!"
     "Thank goodness for that!  Your destiny is to take over and
run the Tendo Dojo, and don't you forget it!  This situation you're in
isn't permanent, you know, so why do you want to be a better cook?"
     "Well, I know that, but... I mean, it's probably a good idea
that I know how to cook.  You know, for my own safety."
     "Don't be ridiculous, Ranma.  When you have your own body
back, and are wed Akane, she will cook for you."
     "Mom, if I let that klutz cook she'll poison me!"
     "Ranma Saotome!  That is no way to speak of your fianc�e!"
     "But it's true!"
     "It is not true, and I will not allow you to speak that way of
Akane in my presence."
     "I... Mother, I'm sorry, but Akane is a really awful cook.
Even you must have realized that by now."
     Nodoka sighed.
     "Son, Akane tries very hard to do well.  I think she tries too
hard, and that leads to mistakes.  She's young still, and she doesn't
get a lot of practice, what with Kasumi here.  But surely you've
noticed that she's improving?  She'll get there eventually, my son;
you just have to give her time."
     "Geez, Mom, I'll be ninety-seven before she gets it right, if I
live that long on her toxic cooking..."
     "Ranma!" Nodoka said, and there was anger in her voice.  "Is
this how your father raised you?  You've become a remarkable
martial artist, but a less than stellar human being.  You have honor,
but you don't know how to relate to others.  Calling people names
and insulting them is not the way for a young man to behave.  You
only hurt others by what you say and do.  This is exactly what I was
talking about... you hide your feelings behind insults, just as your
father hides in his panda form rather than face his problems like a
man."
     "Ah, Mom, I'm nothing like my old man..."
     "You're more like him than you realize," Nodoka said.  "He
can't express his feelings, and neither can you."
     "But that's not my fault!  I'm just no good at feelings and
stuff!"
     "That much is obvious."
     "Yeah, well, I can't help it or nothing.  It's like you said... I
just inherited it from Pops."
     "No.  I did not say that.  You learned it from him, and you
can unlearn it.  Ranma, learning to deal with other people is like
learning martial arts... you need to practice every day.  Do you
understand?"
     "You mean... I gotta practice being nice to people?"
     "That's right, and to Akane, especially.  Think of it as another
form of martial arts, if you must.  You seem to understand that
approach.  Every morning, you should practice being nice, as if it
were one of your katas.  Now, are you at least willing to try that, for
my sake?"
     Ranma looked down at her tea, which had grown cold.  "S-
Sure, Mom.  I guess I can try."
     "Good.  Now, you still haven't explained to me why you want
to cook as well as Kasumi or I.  Frankly, I'm glad you've adapted to
the current situation well, for the Tendo's sake at any rate.  But I fear
you're adapting too well."
     "It's nothing like that," Ranma said.  "It's a matter of honor.  I
challenged Happosai..."

     After hearing the story, Nodoka sighed.  "Oh, my son,
whenever I look at you, I marvel at how much of a man you've
become, how much more honorable and more intelligent than your
father you are.  And then you do something stupid like this..."
     "Hey!  He was insulting my cooking!"
     "My apologies, Son, but it's an exceptionally stupid
challenge.  Cook like Kasumi in three days?  What were you
thinking?  How can you possibly expect to win?"
     She stood up.  "Well, if I'm to train you, then we'll start now.
Do you know what you want to make for lunch?"

***

     "Ranma!  You're still a girl!"
     Kasumi was weaving her way through the crowded school
hallway, heading for Ranma and Akane's home room, when the
voice interrupted her thoughts.  Glancing up, she found Ranma's
friend, Hitoshi, staring at her.
     "Yes," she said, "is that a problem?"
     "Oh, no!" Hitoshi said, holding up his hands.  "It's just that...
well, don't take this the wrong way, I mean, I really like seeing you
this way, but... you're not going to fight Mousse as a girl are you?"
     "Oh, my, of course not," Kasumi said, with a confidence she
really didn't feel.
     "Oh good!" Hitoshi said, smiling in relief.  "I've got a lot of
money riding on you, you know!"
     "Yeah, me too!"
     Kasumi suddenly realized that she was at the center of a ring
of boys, mostly from Ranma's home room.  She wasn't used to
getting so much attention; it made her a bit nervous.
     "I bet two week's lunch money on you, Ranma!"
     "I've got a month's allowance riding on you!"
     "We're counting on you, Ranma!  Don't let us down!"
     Kasumi leaned back against the lockers, suddenly feeling
faint.  She was already under pressure trying to keep Ranma's dignity
and reputation intact, but... she hadn't quite realized that so many
people were depending on her to fight and win Saturday.  What
would happen if she didn't win?  What would happen if she didn't
even fight?
     "Oh, dear..." she said.  "This is getting worse by the day..."
     "What is?"
     Kasumi smiled at Hitoshi.  "Oh, nothing.  I'm glad you have
faith in me, Hitoshi, and everyone.  That's so sweet!  But, you know,
one of these days I might actually lose..."
     "What, you?  Don't make us laugh, Ranma!"
     "Yeah, Ranma.  You're the best anyone's ever seen!  You
even beat that old panty freak on a regular basis!"
     Kasumi smiled wanly.  It was hard for her to argue the point,
since she was pretty much in awe of Ranma's talent herself.  But she
wasn't Ranma, despite outward appearances.  She wasn't even close.
Come Saturday, everyone was bound to find that out.

***

     Genma Saotome set the plate down, having polished every
last morsel from it's surface.  He patted his stomach and burped
contentedly.
     "Well?" Ranma asked, arms crossed.
     "you keep getting better, son.  Every meal is an improvement
over the last.  I haven't been so well fed in ages."
     "And?"
     "You had your mother's help on this one?"
     "I coached him," Nodoka said, seated nearby.  "Ranma did all
of the cooking himself."
     "And?" Ranma said, arms still crossed.  She tapped her foot
impatiently.
     Genma sighed.  "You're still not as good as Kasumi, boy."
     "In what  way?"
     "I... I can't put it into words, but I can taste the difference.
Maybe the master is right on this one."
     "Give it up, son!" Soun cried.  "You can't be good at
everything!  Give up, before you embarrass yourself even further!"
     "Never!" Ranma yelled.  "I can lick this yet!"
     Soun Tendo burst into tears.  "But son, you're cooking me out
of house and home!  I can't afford this challenge of yours!"
     "Don't worry Mr. Tendo!  Just think how much you'll save on
buying underwear for Akane!"
     "That's only if you win, Ranma!  Only if you win!"
     "I can win!" Ranma declared.  "I ain't gonna lose!  You gotta
trust me, Mr. Tendo!  I just need to find the right recipe..."
     Nodoka got a pained look on her face.  "Son," she said, "I'm
glad that you're so persistent, unlike others I could mention, but
Tendo-san is correct.  Sometimes you just can't win.  You need to
recognize when you've reached that point, and surrender gracefully."
     "No way, mom!  I've got two days left!  I can do this!"
     Genma got up and wandered towards the kitchen.  "There's
more food, isn't there?" he said.
     "Lots more," Ranma replied.  "I got a little carried away..."
     "That's no problem, boy!" Genma said happily.  "I'm sure
we'll find a way to keep it from going to waste!"
     "It's hopeless!" Soun Tendo cried.  "I'm ruined... poor
Kasumi!"
     "Cheer up, Mr. Tendo!" Ranma said.  "Everything will work
out, you'll see.  Look on the bright side, at least the dojo hasn't been
destroyed in a while!"
     The nearby wall exploded in a hail of wood and plaster.
"Nihao!" Shampoo called out, stepping through the gaping hole.  She
held one of her bonbori in one hand, and a ramen box in the other.
She set the box down, looking around.  "Ranma not here?" she
asked.
     Everyone looked at Ranma.  Ranma smiled.
     "Oh my," Ranma said, in his best imitation Kasumi voice.
"Ranma's still at school, Shampoo!"
     The Chinese girl snapped her fingers.  "Is true!  Shampoo
forget!  If Shampoo hurry, is still time to give him special ramen!"

***

     "Nabiki Tendo, how are you this fair day?"
     "Kuno-baby, how's it going?  Looking for new pictures?"
Nabiki produced a set from her desk.  She'd been busy the last few
days, snapping every picture she could of Ranma-chan in feminine
clothing.  She planned on taking enough to last a while.
     At the moment, her future-brother-in-law-slash-older-sister
was nearby, trying to explain to a certain purple-haired girl that she'd
already eaten lunch, and didn't have room for more.  *Poor
Shampoo,* Nabiki thought.  *The real Ranma would have downed
Kasumi's lunch, a meal from Ukyo, and still had room for Shampoo's
ramen.  The boy's a bottomless pit.*
     Kuno was studying the pictures with unconcealed lust.  "Oh!
More glimpses of her feminine side!  Such unparalleled beauty!  So
strong, and yet so fragile!"
     "Yeah," Nabiki said, "I thought You'd like them."
     Kuno slapped down his money, never taking his eyes off the
pictures.
     "Her manner to me has changed significantly since our date,"
he said.  "I know now, finally, that she truly does love me."
     "You do?"
     "Indeed.  When she struck me this morning, it was a far
lighter punch than ever I felt from her before.  I was knocked back a
mere fifty feet."
     "If that's not true love, Kuno, I don't know what is," Nabiki
said, rolling her eyes.
     "Yes.  But now I must turn my attention to Akane Tendo, and
for this, I fear I must seek your help."
     "Sorry, Kuno, I don't have any photos of  my sister today.  I
can get some by tomorrow, if you like."
     "It is not mere photos that I seek," Kuno said, then paused.
"Although I would not say no to a new set of pictures of the fair
Akane..."
     "I didn't think you would."
     "...but what I seek at the moment, Nabiki Tendo, is your
advice."
     Nabiki arched an eyebrow.  The strange boy with the bokken
fetish was leaning over her desk, a look of utter seriousness on his
face -- not that she�d ever known Kuno to joke about anything.
"Okay, Kuno-baby.  The meter's running, so start talking.  What's on
your mind?"
     "It is not in my nature to ask of others advice on how I might
conduct my business, especially in affairs of the heart.  To stoop so
low is not worthy of the noble samurai.  However, I find myself at an
impasse, the likes of which I find impossible to traverse.  My mind
struggles to find a solution, but it is like holding back the tide or
embracing the wind."
     "Spit it out already, Kuno."
     Kuno stood straight and frowned seriously on Nabiki.  "I
want to arrange a date with Akane, your sister."
     "Yes?  Isn't that what you're always working on?"
     "Nabiki Tendo," Kuno said, "I am asking you for your help."
     "I'm not a dating service, Kuno."
     "Do you think I do not know  that?" the kendoist replied.  He
stared off into the distance.  "Before this past week, I was content to
wait.  I knew in my heart that my loves could not resist my affections
forever, no matter what spells were cast upon them.  Finally, a mere
forty-two hours and thirty-seven minutes past, my pig-tailed goddess
found a way to express to me what surely has long been held within
her heart."  He turned to Nabiki, tears coming to his eyes.  "Do you
not see, Nabiki?  Always have I  treated them equally!  Now, I can
no longer wait for the right moment to come to me; if I do not find a
way to prove to Akane that she is as precious to me as my red-haired
goddess, then I fear I may lose her for good!  If I were to crush her
delicate heart so... please, Nabiki, I beg of you!  Have I not lowered
myself enough, to stoop to this?  But, truly, you are my last hope!"
     Nabiki rubbed her temples, wondering what sort of monster
she had helped to create.  "Okay, Kuno," she said, "I suppose I can
try.  However, it won't come cheap."
     "Name your price," Kuno said.  "I will pay it."
     Nabiki's eyebrows rose ever-so-slightly.  "That desperate,
huh?"
     "Indeed," Kuno said, "I even sought the advice of my twisted
sister, but while her suggestions surely would work, it is not
customary for one so noble as I to deal in potions and poisons..."
     Nabiki sighed.  "Kuno, Kuno...you've really got it bad, this
time, don't you?"

***

     "Look," Ranma said, "I told you, Ranma's not here.  How
long are you going to wait here?  Don't you have anything better to
do?"
     Ranma was taking a break in the family room.  The afternoon
chores were done, and it wasn't yet time for dinner, so Ranma was
relaxing for a bit and reading up on Italian cooking.  Her mother had
left for the day, and her father and Mr. Tendo were off doing
something somewhere, she really didn't care what.  A cool afternoon
breeze was blowing in from the back yard, and everything was
peaceful and quiet, and Ranma would be enjoying herself, except
that a certain amazon was seated at the family table nearby.  There
was a cold bowl of ramen before Shampoo, and a rather sad but
determined look was on her face.
     "Shampoo make mistake," she said.  "Shampoo arrive at
school too late.  Ranma already eat lunch, he no longer hungry.  But
Shampoo work so hard to cook special ramen!"
     *I'll bet,* Ranma thought.
     "Besides," the Chinese girl continued, "Is nothing better than
wait for airen come home to Shampoo!"
     "Oh, like I'd...� Ranma stopped herself.  �This isn�t your
home, Shampoo,� she said, instead.  �So what is it this time?  Love
potion again?"
     "Aiya!  You spy on Nekohanten!"
     "Oh, right, like I've got  time to watch your every move.  Do
you know how busy I am?  Do you know what it's like to cook and
clean for a seven-person household?"
     "You no busy now, Kasumi."
     "Only because I've been working all day!"
     Shampoo's eyes glistened as she stared off into the distance.
"When Shampoo marry Ranma, have many kids.  Shampoo happy to
cook and clean for big family!"
     Ranma sighed.  It was always this way with Shampoo...
except that, at the moment, Shampoo wasn't hanging all over her,
and Ranma had a certain amount of freedom in what she said.
Criticism from Kasumi would not sting nearly as much as criticism
from Shampoo�s supposed betrothed.
     "You're dreaming, Shampoo.  Ranma's not going to marry
you."
     "Ranma marry Shampoo!  Is tribal law!"
     "In case you didn't notice, you're in the middle of Tokyo.
Tribal laws don't apply here."
     "You is okay, Kasumi?"  Shampoo was suddenly at her side,
with a hand on her forehead.  "You talk funny.  Maybe you is getting
sick?  Great Grandmother fix you up good!"
     "No!  I mean, oh, my!  I don't think I feel sick... if I need to, I
can talk to Dr. Tofu."
     Shampoo made a face.  "Kasumi visit strange sensei, things
get worse.  Shampoo see what happen when Kasumi visit him.
Shampoo no want to be around."
     Ranma went back to her book.  "Then why don't you leave,
Shampoo?  I'll see that Ranma gets your special ramen."  *Like fun I
will,* she added to herself.
     From the front door a voice called out.  "Tadaima!  We're
home!"
     Shampoo sprang up, a look of rapture on her face, and ran
down the hallway.  Grimacing, Ranma got up and followed her.  The
voices of the three Tendo sisters drifted towards her.
     "Give me a break, Nabiki!  I can't believe you'd even suggest
such a thing!"
     "It's just  one date," Nabiki said.  "Kuno said I could name
my price.  Do you know how much money the Kunos have, or how
much he could pay?"
     "No!  Not a chance!  What do I look like, your personal call
girl?  Are you going to start renting out Kasumi and Ranma-chan
too?  Maybe you could sign up Ukyo and Shampoo while you're at
it!"
     "Okay," Nabiki said.  "I knew you wouldn't go for it, but I
had to try."
     The three girls came around the corner.  A blur of red and
purple flashed by the two younger sisters and glomped onto Kasumi.
     "Airen!" Shampoo exclaimed.  "I wait all afternoon for you
return!  You eat special ramen now, yes?"
     "Oh, Shampoo!" Kasumi said, trying to pry the amazon off of
her.  "How thoughtful of you!  But I really need to train before
dinner, you know."
     "Why you train?  Is easy you beat Mousse, yes?"
     "Shampoo," Akane said, "didn't you just say yesterday that
Mousse had been training and would be hard to beat?"
     Shampoo shrugged.  "Is true, but Shampoo know that Mousse
never beat Ranma."
     "Well, there's always a first time for everything," Kasumi
said, finally prying Shampoo loose.
     "Why you talk crazy?"  Shampoo said.  Her eyes narrowed.
"You no try to lose to Mousse on purpose again!"  She glared at
Akane.
     "What?  What have I got to do with this?"
     "While this is a fascinating conversation," Nabiki said, "I
simply must leave you to it.  Duty calls, ta!"  She swept by Ranma
and up the stairs.  Ranma, also taking the coward's way out, retreated
to the kitchen.

***

     Nabiki was engaged in her favorite activity, and unlike many
of her peers it had nothing to do with sex or video games.   Instead,
she was seated at her desk in her room, quietly going over the
numbers in her private ledger.
     Betting on Ranma was even heavier than she'd expected.
With a day and a half left to collect bets, Saturday was looking like
the biggest payday of her entire life.
     What would she do with the money?  Midori and Kyoko
would get their shares, but the bulk of it was Nabiki's.  She could
buy new clothes, some jewelry perhaps, and still have a huge sum to
re-invest.  Perhaps a computer would make sense; for a while now
she'd been contemplating the possibilities of making money via the
internet.  It was the wave of the future, and Nabiki wanted to ride
that wave, but there were also stock options to consider.  What
would best serve her immediate goal, of getting into an especially
good college?  A degree from the right school would set the stage for
her future financial independence.
     Mind you, she still had plans to marry into money -- so much
easier than having to earn it -- but Nabiki planned for every
eventuality.
     She sighed and closed the ledger.  There were no two ways
about it, as long as Kasumi remained in Ranma's body, Nabiki would
come up a winner.  The thought brought a very slight smile to her
face.
     She turned to her other ledger, the one for the Tendo
household.  She glanced over the figures, noting that, so far, the
month was going well.  Aside from the occasional rebuilt wall, their
repair bills were down, and the food budget was stable, thanks to
several free meals from the Nekohanten and U-Chan's.  Admittedly,
those meals coincided with the damaged walls, but they were still
well within the budget.  All in all, things were running smoothly.
     Since the arrival of the Saotomes, the strain on the food
budget and the costs of repairs had occasionally forced Nabiki to
supplement the family budget from her own pocket.  Luckily, the
costs incurred were often covered by the money Nabiki made off the
sale of Ranma-chan photos, and side bets on his fights.  That didn't
even take into account the money Ranma paid her to keep this or
that secret from leaking out.  Genma had a job, too, of course, and
contributed a pittance to the dojo's coffers, but the real reason
Ranma and his father weren't more of a burden was the marketability
of Ranma himself.  More than anyone, Nabiki recognized the value
in having Ranma around.
     Nabiki totaled the week's receipts.  She frowned.  She totaled
them again, then stared at the bottom line.
     Certainly, Nabiki thought, Ranma would spend more than
Kasumi.  That was to be expected.  Kasumi was a creative and
resourceful shopper, and Ranma didn't have her experience in
providing for the household on a limited budget.  However, the food
budget had quadrupled practically overnight.  Bad shopping choices
didn't begin to explain it.
     Still frowning, Nabiki stepped out of her room and headed
downstairs.  She heard thumps and yelling coming from the dojo,
and knew that Kasumi must be training for the fight.  She felt a little
sympathy for her older sister.  Nabiki, for one, had no desire to ever
revisit her years of training.  Those days were gone, and good
riddance.
      Ranma was in the family room, watching television.  This
was strange in itself, given that people were pounding each other
only a few hundred feet away.  What was even stranger was what he
was watching.
     A cooking show?  Nani?  What now?
     With growing curiosity, Nabiki watched as Ranma jotted
page after page of notes into a small booklet.  Ranma, taking notes?
Ranma never took notes on anything, not even in class.  He was the
sort who learned by watching and then repeating what he saw,
trusting in his ability to observe and memorize.  This worked well
for him in martial arts, and not so well in school, but Nabiki had
never known him to alter it.
     Until now.  *First cookbooks, now cooking shows,* Nabiki
thought.  *It's about time I solve this little mystery.*
     "Ranma?  Shouldn't you be helping Kasumi train?"
     Ranma didn't even look up.  "It's okay," he said.  "Ryoga's in
there, with Akane and Pops and Mr. Tendo.  They don't need me."
     "Did Shampoo go home, then?"
     "Yeah," Ranma said.  "I 'accidentally' spilled her precious
ramen.  After that, she finally left."
     He continued to stare at the tv screen and scribble notes into
his booklet.
     "Dinner will be at six," he said after a moment.  "If you're
hungry, there's food in the fridge, leftovers from lunch."
     "Really?  I know your father was home, so you must have
made a big lunch."
     "Yeah, I guess I did."
     Nabiki walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator
door.  As she looked over all of the food within, her eyes grew ever-
so-slightly wider than normal.  There were leftovers indeed... a lot of
leftovers, food of every kind, enough for a couple of dinners, at least.
Was Ranma going to cook even more?
     *All this, left over after Ranma and Mr. Saotome were full.
The mind boggles,* she thought.  *Well, at least we know why the
food budget's so high.  The bigger mystery is... why?  Ranma, more
interested in cooking than martial arts?  Could being in Kasumi's
body be affecting his mind that much?*
     Nabiki grabbed a pair of sushi rolls.  *If not for me, Ranma
and Kasumi might already be back to normal,* she thought.  She
took a bite.  *Wow!  This isn't bad!  When did Ranma learn to do
such elaborate sushi?*
     The doorbell rang.  "I got it!" Nabiki called out, heading into
the hallway.  She opened the door on their elderly neighbor, Mrs.
Ishigawa.
     "Nabiki, dear!" Mrs. Ishigawa said.  "How are you today?"
     "Fine, thanks, Obaasan," Nabiki said.
     The old woman smiled, always pleased when the Tendo
sisters called her grandmother, as they'd done since they were kids.
"Tell me, dear, is your sister Kasumi home?"
     "Sure," Nabiki said, "but I think she's busy at the moment."
     "Oh, don't trouble her then," she said, handing over a piece of
paper.  "I just wanted to drop this recipe off for her."
     "Recipe?"  Nabiki stared at the paper blankly.
     "Yes, she asked me for it earlier today.  You know, it's nice
to be able to help her once in a while.  She used to come to me for
advice so often, but in the last two years she's become such a good
cook, perhaps the best on the whole block.  She hardly needs my
help anymore, so I was quite surprised when she asked.  Well, as I
said, I'm always glad to help.  Say hello to your sisters and your
father for me, and to those two martial artists as well!"

     Nabiki walked back into the family room, studying the
recipe.  It was an elaborate dish... not something Kasumi would
normally prepare.  In that way, it was much like the book she'd
bought for Ranma the night before, and the book Ranma had
borrowed from Doctor Tofu, and some of the food in the
refrigerator.
     "Who was it?" Ranma asked, again without looking up.
     "Our neighbor, Mrs. Ishigawa.  She brought over a recipe for
you."
     "Really?  All right!"
     Nabiki grimaced.  She didn't like asking direct questions -- it
tended to ruin her "all wise and all knowing" mystique -- but she was
ready to explode with curiosity.  She had to know, now.
     "Ranma-kun, what is this all about?"
     "Hmm?"  Ranma glanced up.  The cooking show had,
mercifully, come to an end.  "It's a recipe.  You know, for cooking.  I
asked our neighbor..."
     "No.  I mean the whole thing -- the recipe books, the
elaborate cooking, the sudden interest in television chefs, and the
enormous grocery bills you're ringing up.  What's it all about?"
     "Oh.  You don't know?"
     Nabiki ground her teeth and counted to three.  "Sorry to
disappoint you, Ranma," she said, "but amazing as it might seem, I'm
not privy to every secret that passes through this household, just
most of them.  Call it a lapse in my information network, but I
haven't the slightest idea what's gotten into you.  Would you mind
letting me know?"
     "Well," Ranma said.  "It started with Happosai..."
     "Doesn't it always?"
     "...I challenged him, see..."
     Nabiki nodded.  "This is sounding nauseatingly familiar.
Where does cooking come in?"
     "Well, I sort of challenged him to a cooking contest."
     Nabiki thought this over.
     "Ranma, I'm pretty sure you can cook circles around the old
man..."
     Ranma shook her head.  "No, I'm not cooking against him,
I'm cooking for him.  It's just... well, he insulted my cooking.  He
said I wasn't as good as Kasumi."
     "You're not."
     "I know that!  But it's not like my food is poisonous or
nothing either!  All I said is I can cook a meal as enjoyable as
anything Kasumi does.  That's all!"
     Nabiki stared at Ranma for a full minute.
     "You're kidding."
     "Nope," Ranma said.  He glanced back down at his notebook.
"I'm going to win if it kills me!"
     Nabiki placed her hand at her temple as if in pain.  There was
no way.  This time, the half-boy, half-girl was dead meat.
     The only question, then, was how to make money off of it?
Nabiki had no idea... yet.

***

     Ryoga wiped the sweat from his brow and stared at the girl
who looked like onna-Ranma, but wasn't.
     "You're doing a lot better, Kasumi," he said, smiling.
     "I am?"
     "Definitely," he said.  "I see a lot of improvement!"
     "Don't let him fool you, Kasumi.  You're in no shape to take
on Mousse."
     Ryoga and Kasumi turned, along with Akane, Soun, and
Genma, who were watching from the near wall of the dojo.
Standing at the dojo entrance was someone who looked like Kasumi
but wasn't.  Instead of Kasumi's dress and apron, Ranma wore a
brand new gi.  It was decidedly un-Kasumi-like.
     "Kasumi, I have a favor to ask of you," Ranma said.  "If I
help you train, will you help me cook dinner tonight?"
     Kasumi smiled.  "Why, of course, Ranma!  I'd like that!  To
be honest, I've felt a little useless lately, with you doing all of the
cooking and housework."
     Ranma advanced to the middle of the dojo.  She bowed
slightly to Ryoga.  "With your permission?" she asked.
     Ryoga returned the half-bow.  "Why so formal and polite,
Ranma?  Is being in that body affecting you?"
     "Just get the hell out of my way," Ranma growled.
     "That's more like it," Ryoga said, retreating to the dojo's wall.
     Ranma went into a crouch.  "Okay, Kasumi," she said.  "I
know this is your body I'm in, but it's me, Ranma, controlling it.
Don't hold up... I want to see what you can really do."
     Kasumi nodded.  "If you say so, Ranma."

     Three seconds later, Ranma was being helped off the floor by
Soun and Akane.  Kasumi hovered nearby.
     "Ranma!  Are you okay?"
     "Oh, my!  I didn't mean to hit you so hard!"
     "I... yes, I'm okay.  She just surprised me a little."
     Soun grabbed Ranma by the collar and lifted her off her feet.
"Don't be foolish, son!  Kasumi's body has none of your old
reflexes!"
     "Mr. Tendo?  Could you put me down, please?"
     "Oh, um, sorry, yes, of course..."
     Ranma straightened her gi.  "I was just caught off guard," she
insisted.  "Kasumi's a better fighter in my body, and I'm slower and
weaker in hers.  I want to try again."
     Reluctantly, Soun retreated to the wall.  Ranma took a
moment to center herself, then assumed a defensive stance.  "Once
again," she said, "whenever you're ready."
     Kasumi nodded, and launched her attack, much more
hesitantly this time.  Ranma concentrated much harder on her
defense.  It had been a couple of days since she'd practiced -- she'd
never taken so much time off in her life before -- but, in this body, it
felt like years had passed.  Her reactions were slow, her movements
mechanical.  Her punches lacked force.  Nothing felt natural; she
was thinking too much before reacting.
     Kasumi, on the other hand, was moving as naturally as the
wind.  For her, any thought at all was a disadvantage, so she let her
new body's reactions guide her.  Strange as it seemed, she was
probably, at this particular moment, more than a match for Ranma.
     In no time at all, Ranma was forced to call a halt.  She was
too winded to continue.
     She ground her teeth.  This whole situation was completely
unbearable.  If she were going to remain in Kasumi's body for even
one more day, she was going to start working out.  There were no
two ways about it.  Ranma could survive being stuck in this body,
and she could survive being the household's surrogate mother, (or at
least, cook and cleaning woman), but Ranma could never accept
being denied her art.  Practice would begin the following morning.
     Kasumi, of course, wasn't winded at all.  Ryoga smiled as he
took Ranma's place.  He bowed slightly.  "With your permission?" he
asked, his voice slightly mocking.  "Perhaps a true martial artist can
test her skills..."
     Ranma threw a punch, which Ryoga caught easily.
     "You're not much of a threat these days," he said, speaking in
a low voice so that the others couldn't hear.  "So much the better for
me, don't you think?  I can only hope the change is permanent..."
     "You bastard!" Ranma growled.
     "Now, now, Miss Saotome," Ryoga said.  "Take your seat,
and watch a real man at work."
     Again Ranma ground her teeth, unable to do anything else.
She walked stiffly to the side of the dojo and flopped down between
Akane and her father.
     "Are you fighting with Ryoga again?" Akane asked
accusingly.  "That's really not smart, Ranma.  You're in no position
to take him on right now."
     Ranma just glared into the distance, saying nothing.
     Ryoga sparred with Kasumi, and it was evident to everyone
that he was holding back.  After a few minutes, Ranma yelled,
"Attack her, you idiot!  She's supposed to be preparing for a fight,
but she can't learn anything if you don't push her limits!  Or is this
how a 'real man' fights?"
     �Shut up, Ranma!� Ryoga yelled.
     �Come on!  Are you a man, or a piglet?�
     Frowning, Ryoga proceeded to take Kasumi apart.  His
punches lacked their usual force, but he continually tagged her with
them.  Kasumi seemed to redouble her efforts, but that only left her
even more wide open.  She was trying to concentrate -- to think --
which slowed her reactions down.  Her movements were no longer
fluid and natural, and she was becoming winded.
     Finally she called for a halt.  Ranma sprang to her feet.
     "If you don't learn to at least defend yourself, Kasumi,
Mousse is going to pound you into the ground!" she yelled.
     "Ranma!" Akane yelled back, "don't be an idiot!  She's not
even going to fight Mousse!"
     Kasumi took a ragged breath of air.  "Oh my!" she said.
"There must be some other way to resolve this."
     "This is hopeless," Ranma said.  "At this rate, you'll never be
able to take on Mousse."
     Ranma stared at the dojo floor dejectedly.  Soun put his hand
on her shoulder.
     "Look on the bright side, son," Soun said.  "If Mousse can
win Shampoo's hand, you won't have to deal with her anymore."
     "That's not what this is about!"
     "Oh?" Akane said.  "What's it about then?  Your pride?  Or
do you really want Shampoo after all?"
     "I didn't say that!"
     "Baka!  You didn't have to!  Fine, if that's the way you feel,
you can stay in Kasumi's body for the rest of your life!"
     "Oh, Akane," Kasumi said, "you don't really mean that!"
     Fury was etched on Akane's face.  "Well listen to him!  He's
not concerned about you at all, he's just concerned that you'll damage
his precious reputation!"
     Ranma headed for the entrance.  "Fine, then," she said.  "If
you need me, I'll be in the kitchen."
     Kasumi's eyes were filled with sadness as she watched
Ranma leave.
     "Akane," she said, "a reputation is a pretty serious thing to a
martial artist.  For someone like Ranma, it could be more important
than his own life..."

***

     In the kitchen, Ranma was hovering over the stove wok and
keeping an eye on the pan simmering next to it.  Kasumi walked in,
picked up a knife, and began chopping vegetables.
     Several moments went by.  The only sounds were the sizzle
of the wok oil and the sharp chopping of Kasumi's knife.
     "I'm sorry we're in this position," Kasumi said, quietly.  "I
don't want to ruin your reputation this way."
     "That's okay," Ranma said.  There was resignation in her
voice.
     "If there was any way I could defeat Mousse..."
     "Don't worry, Kasumi.  I know there's nothing you can do
about it.  If we don't find a cure before Saturday... well, whatever
happens, happens."
     "Oh, Ranma!  I'm so sorry!"
     "Don't," Ranma said.  "There's no need."
     "If there's anything I can do..."
     "Actually," Ranma said, "there is.  This stupid challenge I
made with Happosai is another matter.  I don't want to lose that too.
If there's any way that you could help me..."
     "Of course I'll help you!" Kasumi exclaimed.  "All you have
to do is ask!"

***

     It was a big indication of how seriously Ranma took her
challenge with Happosai that she didn't immediately dive in after
serving dinner.  Instead, she stood near the table, waiting expectantly
for everyone's opinions.
     "It's very good, Ranma," Akane said.
     "Yes," Kasumi added.  "You did a wonderful job!"
     Genma was too busy shoveling food into his mouth to say
anything, while Soun was once again crying.  He looked at the
elaborate spread of food on the table like a child might watch an
escaped balloon sail off into the stratosphere.
     "Not good enough!" Happosai declared setting his bowl down
with finality.
     "Ha!" Ranma cried.  "I notice you ate everything!"
     "True," Happosai said, "It's not bad.  Kasumi helped... but I
can easily detect Ranma's hand in the creation of this meal.  Try
again!"
     "Admit it, freak!  You liked it!"
     Happosai growled and leapt onto the table.  "You ungrateful
whelp!  Don't you get it?  You can do everything exactly as Kasumi
does it, and you still won't cook as well as her!  Kasumi pours all the
love that's in her heart into her culinary creations!  You can't hope to
compete!  Give up!"
     "Never!"
     Akane tried to ignore the shouted curses and enjoy her meal.
If it wasn't Ranma picking fights with his father or his hentai master,
then it was Shampoo, or Ukyo, or Cologne dropping by to cause
havoc, or a fight with Ryoga or Mousse, or Ranma acting jealous of
P-Chan, or their parents trying to force them into admitting that they
really wanted to get married right that second.  If all else failed, a
quiet evening was often altered by a cryptic comment from Nabiki,
who seemed to enjoy stirring the Tendo household kettle when it
grew too calm.  Truth to tell, it had literally been months since the
last time Akane had enjoyed a quiet, peaceful meal at the dinner
table, and it would probably be many more before it happened again.
     The worst part was that only Akane seemed to care.  Father --
well, he was always upset at something.  Ranma, Genma, and
Happosai -- they were usually part of the problem.  Kasumi acted
oblivious, and Nabiki seemed to enjoy everything from her vantage
point as an uninvolved spectator.  Only Akane suffered.
     Or was that true?  Akane watched as her eldest sister ate.
She was actually starting to think of the red-head as her sister, and
not Ranma-oh-wait-that's-Kasumi-in-there.  In any case, Kasumi
looked anything but her usual happy, serene self.  She looked
positively troubled.
     Akane wondered if the upcoming fight, or even just the
sparring, was getting to her sister.  She became so wrapped up her
concern for Kasumi that she almost didn't notice when her sister
spoke.
     "I'm going to fight Mousse," Kasumi said.
     The room suddenly became silent.  Happosai balanced on the
table on one leg, halfway through the act of launching Ranma out
into the yard.
     "What did you say?" their father asked.
     Kasumi looked irritated.  It was, upon reflection, a very
Ranma-like look.
     "I said, I'm going to fight Mousse."
     "What?" everyone exclaimed.
     "Kasumi, no!" Soun cried.  "I can't let you do this!  I must
forbid it!"
     "I have to, father," Kasumi said.  "It's a matter of honor."
     "Kasumi," Akane said, "don't be stupid.  You can forfeit the
match, Ranma will understand.  There's no way you could win, so he
can't expect you to go through with it."
     "I know," Kasumi said, "but Ranma-kun would never forfeit.
I can't either."
     "Sis, you're not Ranma.  You may look like him, and you
may have his muscles and reflexes, but you don't have his training or
knowledge..."
     "Like there's any of that," Nabiki added.
     Akane glanced over in anger.  "Okay, so he's hopeless in
school..."
     "Hey!" Ranma yelled.  "I'm right here, you know!"
     "...but that doesn't mean he's stupid!" Akane continued, with
a warning glance at her betrothed.  "He knows more about fighting
than anyone else his age!
     "The point is," Akane continued, turning back to her eldest sister,
"you don't have a prayer in this fight, Kasumi.  You're going to lose.
So why go through with it?"
     Kasumi continued to sit, her hands folded in her lap.  In her
eyes there was a fierce determination, which did not quite manage to
mask the underlying layer of fear.  She looked exceptionally Ranma-
like, not like Kasumi in the least.
     "Losing is one thing," Kasumi said.  "Quitting is another.
Everyone loses from time to time, but no Tendo and no Saotome
ever quits."
     "With the noted exception of our two fathers," Ranma said.
     Genma slammed his bowl down.  "Boy!  I thought I taught
you to respect your elders!"
     "I would if I could!" Ranma fired back.
     "That's it, boy!" Genma said, standing.  "You've had this
coming for a long time!"
     Soun grabbed his friend's sleeve.  "Saotome, no!  That's still
my daughter's body we're talking about!"
     "Soun, Genma," Happosai said, "shut up!  I want to hear
this."
     Glancing at their unpredictable master, the two fathers sat
back down.  Happosai had returned to his seat and composed
himself, and was puffing away on his pipe.
     "Please, Kasumi," he said, "do continue."
     "Well," Kasumi said, "that's really all I had to say.  Despite
what father or anyone else thinks, my decision stands.  I may not be
much of a martial artist, but I'm the daughter of Soun Tendo.   I can't
back out.  This is a matter of honor, and I have as much honor as
anyone in this house.  I'm going to fight Mousse, and that decision is
final."

***

     "Airen act very strange," Shampoo said.  "Something not
right.  Kasumi act very strange, too.  Shampoo very worried."
     It was midmorning of the next day.  It was Friday, and
Shampoo was helping her great-grandmother in the kitchen of the
Nekohanten, preparing for the lunch rush.
     "Acting strange?" Cologne said, sliding another batch of
ramen noodles into her largest wok.  She watched as the neat rows of
pasta were engulfed in a storm of bubbling oil.  "How so?"
     "Ranma wear dress all times Shampoo see him," Shampoo
said.  "He always in girl form, always act like girl."
     "Hmm, that does sound odd," Cologne said.  "That's very
unlike son-in-law, unless he's up to something."
     "He very cool to Shampoo," the girl continued.  "Kasumi talk
strange too... not speak very nice to Shampoo.  Kasumi always be
nice to Shampoo in before times!"
     Before Cologne could comment further, a jingle of bells
announced the entrance of a new customer.  Cologne hopped up onto
the countertop, ready to take an order, and was surprised to see that
their visitor was Kasumi Tendo herself.
     "Kasumi, dear," Cologne said, warmly, "what can I do for
you?"
     "Good day, Cologne-sama," Kasumi replied.  "I was
wondering if I could ask a favor of you?"
     "Of course, dear!  I'm always happy to help.  What is it that you
need?"
     Kasumi looked around nervously.  "Well," she said, "It's like
this.  I want to surprise Grandfather Happosai, to cook something for
him that he would never expect, something that he hasn't had in
years, but which he likes a lot.  I know that you two knew each other
a long time ago, and I was hoping that you would know if he had a
favorite recipe from his youth, something that you could teach me to
cook..."
     Kasumi smiled wanly.  "I guess you could say, Cologne, that
what I really need is... special training.  In cooking, at least."
     Cologne's already large eyes grew even wider.

END PART FIVE
***

Remember, if the world hands you lemons, fight back!  Write
something different!
Thanks to everyone who's written to me.  Hi to KaraOhki, Joseph
Palmer, Ukyo Kunoji... loved that Nerima Home Companion!  The
beginings of this story came after I read her "Floating Soul",
although I could have just as easily borrowed from Kimagure
Orange Road, or Gilligan's Island, or...?
Enjoy!  And if you don't, write me anyway!

M.A. Davis  aka "Miko"

"When you really need them the most," he said, "million-to-once chances
always crop up.  Well-known fact."  --Seargent Colon, "Guards, Guards!"
Terry Pratchett

Nausicaa@sprynet.com   Belldandy@angelic.com
Anime rpg at http://come.to/akane/
Fan Fiction at http://www.fortunecity.com/tatooine/pratchett/199/