(It was hell getting the line breaks into this, they should be at 72
 characters now, I apologize in advance if they aren't.)

Well, here, at long-last, is the second chapter of Scream! You'll notice
that the goddesses are absent from this one, but never fear, they will
return!

I'm not sure about Ranma's characterization in this one, there are a
couple of areas I think I want to rework. Please let me know what you
think.

The first chapter, Scream for Ice Cream!, can be found on my brand,
spanking new webpage at http://www.zebra.net/spardue/anime/

Or just email me if you have problems with the page and I'll be glad to
forward a copy to you.

And now, for our feature presentation...

Ranma 1/2 By Rumiko Takahashi
Oh My Goddess! By Kosuke Fujishima

A fic, by Steve Pardue

Scream for Your Sanity!

    The dawning day found Ranma standing on the beach in front of the
Tendo's rented seaside cottage, performing her morning katas. The surf
crashed gently just beyond the redhead's bare feet, and she followed its
motion closely, surging out towards the ocean and then back again as the
waves rushed ashore. Finishing the kata, she held the final position,
concentrating on the calmness permeating her body.
    It bothered her, how comfortable she had become with her girl's
body. "My girl's body," Ranma murmured softly, and sighed. Even in her
own thoughts she referred to herself as a girl, now. The worst thing, to
her mind, was the fact that she didn't even really know when she had
stopped being able to change back. She had told Akane it had been after
dinner last night, but the truth was she hadn't even tried to change
back the entire week. No point when you knew you'd get wet and change
back in a few minutes anyway. The beach had too much water to expect
otherwise.
    She was on vacation at the beach, with her family, and it had been
perfect, up till now. She hadn't been bothered by any of the fianc�es
Pop had arranged for her, P-chan had disappeared off the train during
the trip, the Kunos hadn't found out where they were, Nabiki hadn't been
taking pictures of her (that she knew of), and best of all, she and
Akane had actually been getting along. It had felt really good not to
fight with the youngest Tendo daughter. They had spent the entire day
Sunday on the beach together, just lying in the sun, not talking,
fighting or sulking. It was amazing how comfortable the silence had
been. Ranma was sure that Akane must have felt the same way. At dinner
that night they hadn't said anything, but Ranma had felt Akane's eyes on
her throughout the meal, and had forced herself not to stare back. On
Monday they wandered around the town. Nabiki had distracted the two
fathers while they slipped out, and for a small fee had made sure the
two men stayed away from them for the rest of the day.
    Ranma lowered herself to the sand, adjusting her swimsuit. Her
fingers traced the word stitched across her chest. She could remember
her feelings from Monday afternoon, looking at Akane as they strolled
along the boardwalk above the beach. Akane wore a pair of shorts with a
multi-colored T-shirt tucked into the top. The sandals she wore slapped
the cobblestones with each step. Ranma hadn't been able to pull her eyes
away from her fianc�e, from the way her short hair capered about her
face or the way Akane's cheeks blushed when she met Ranma's
self-conscious stare. She wanted to reach out and take Akane's hand
then, like she had on the road back from Ryugenzawa, and had reached out
with her hand. Akane walked on for several steps, unaware that she had
stopped. As Akane passed her, Ranma had see her reflection in the store
across the street. Cute girl, red hair pulled back into a pigtail, green
one-piece swimsuit, baggy, white shorts and a white cotton windbreaker,
unzipped.
    On the beach, Ranma frowned. 'Boy,' the word under her fingers read.
Something she had been; and would be again, she told herself. How could
she have dared taken Akane's hand when they were both girls? But,
maybe... it would have been... maybe.
    Ranma reached down to the wet sand beside her and scooped up a
handful, squeezing it between her fist and watching as it dribbled down
between her legs to be washed away as water swirled up the beach and
around her. The chill water of the ocean brushed around her and up the
beach several feet before it withdrew. She could feel the sand she was
sitting on pulled out from beneath her, sinking her a little deeper into
the beach. Her feet were already covered halfway. She forced her toes
from under the sand, concentrating on trying to keep them uncovered as
the tide slowly buried her.
    To Ranma, cold water was an intensely feminine thing. Cold water
softened her, weakened her. It rounded her hips and made her chest grow.
It made her feel things that no man should ever experience -- things
that were only to be discussed in whispered embarrassment or
loud-mouthed bravado with other boys, in hidden places where no girl
could overhear. They were secret, unknowable feelings. When she had
first been cursed, she had hated the feelings it brought, but now,
sometimes she sought them out, sought the understanding that seemed so
far away as a boy but was so tantalizingly close as a girl.
    Ranma shook her head at her thoughts, and stood, struggling for a
second to escape the grasp of the sand that she was sinking into.
Brushing sand off the back of her legs she strode into the surf, closing
her eyes as the first wave crashed against her and carried off the sand
still clinging to her body. She dove headfirst into the next, and
powerful strokes carried her past the breakers towards the open ocean.
Rolling onto her back she closed her eyes against the rays of the sun
just risen above the open ocean behind her and concentrated on the
sounds of waves crashing against the cliffs down the shore.
    Rocked gently by the waves she remembered the end of the day Monday,
after she and Akane had eaten at a sandwich stand on the wharf. Walking
back to the cottage they had passed an empty playground. Attracted by
the solitary sound of empty swings swaying in the breeze they entered
and sat, staring out at the rapidly darkening ocean. The stiff evening
breeze caught at their hair as they swung gently, and they sat in
silence until Ranma grabbed the chains of her swing, placed one foot on
the seat and pushed off with the other. Concentrating on staring at the
rising moon now visible above them, she swung back and forth, each arc
carrying her higher and higher, until she felt that she could reach out
and touch the pale body which hung just out of reach above her. Then she
saw the hand reach out from beside her and she turned and saw Akane
standing on her swing, at the top of her arc, hand reaching out for the
moon. Time froze and in that instant of perfect clarity Ranma could see
the pale glow of moonlight on Akane's cheeks and the sparkle of stars in
her eyes as the first of the distant specks of light appeared in the
pitch black sky. Akane turned her head and smiled at Ranma, her secret
smile that left Ranma weak in the knees, and then the earth claimed her
with its gentle pull and time melted, flowing faster, pulling Akane up
and away from her as she fell off her swing and plummeted to the ground
below.
    The fall from the swing had not hurt anything but her pride, and
that had been soothed by the soft laugh and wide smile Akane gave her as
she helped her to her feet. Now, Ranma remembered the depth of what she
had felt for Akane as she hung in the moonlight, the halo of her hair
framing her face. Ranma was reluctant to say it was love. She knew she
loved Akane, even if she couldn't express those feelings. What she had
felt that evening was not love, not what she normally thought of as love
when she was in her other form. Then she could look at Akane and know
that she wanted her, wanted to be with her, to kiss her with abandon in
front of their families and all of their friends and enemies. To prove
finally, to Akane and herself and everyone, that, after the long years
of tumultuous engagement, Akane Tendo was the woman Ranma Saotome loved.
    Ranma opened her eyes and glanced at the shore, gauging her drift
and taking a few strokes to stay in front of the cottage. But what if
Akane didn't want to marry her? What if she hated her curse, the soft
curves that Ranma seemed to wear more and more often? That thought
always held her back before. She knew she couldn't stand to look into
Akane's eyes and see that in them. That night on the swings, she had
stared into Akane's eyes and through those star speckled orbs into her
soul. It had frightened her, what she saw there, because it wasn't
embarrassment, hatred, or, worst of all, friendship. It wasn't love,
either, although she was confident in its existence, now. Instead she
had glimpsed the thread of fate that bound them together, placed, it
seemed, by the gods themselves, binding the two of them to one another
for all eternity.
    A chill ran down Ranma's spine and she squirmed, then turned and
dived under the water. The bottom was about twenty feet deep and she
swam to it, popping her ears once, then stroked along the bottom, eyes
lost in the dappled shadows cast by the twisting waves above. The curse
of her body now seemed doubly cruel. Just when she had finally realized
the true depth of her ties to Akane she found herself trapped as a girl,
unable to act on her feelings. What if the only reason she could think
these thoughts now, the only reason she could peer into Akane's eyes and
see the passion lying hidden there, was that her female body was capable
of these insights where her other wasn't? Maybe she couldn't change back
because she had accepted her cursed form -- embraced it even. This last
week had been so easy, so happy. All those feelings, which normally
crashed against her like waves slowly wearing against an indifferent
cliff, had suddenly reached up and engulfed her. All of the eddies and
currents of her relationship with Akane were laid bare, to be freely
navigated and explored. Was it all just because she wore a girl's body?
    Gasping for air she broke the surface and treaded water, a frown on
her face. She remembered jogging with Akane along the beach in the
morning and the afternoon she had tried to teach the girl to swim.
Shopping for groceries with Kasumi at the open-air market in the rain,
the evening when Nabiki had taken them to the party at that hotel's
pool, and the afternoon she had spent eating ice cream with a new friend
. She had been a girl each time, for one good reason or another. Not
good reasons to be a girl, but good reasons not to be a boy. What if she
had fulfilled some dark unspoken condition of the curse, that acceptance
meant becoming? Did that mean... she would be this way forever? She
choked back the bile that rose at the back of her throat, forced it down
into the pit of her stomach. It couldn't be that. She wouldn't let it be
that!
    She swam to shore, waded through the surf and up the beach to the
chair where she had left a large beach towel. In her other form, it
would have been large, but as a girl the towel swallowed her whole.
Chilled by both her thoughts and the seawater evaporating off her skin,
she wrapped herself in the towel and collapsed onto the chair, her body
completely hidden. She pulled the towel up over her head and down her
face, until it was hidden in shadows. It reminded her of how she had
slept when she was little, curled into her bedroll like a snail in its
shell.
    Her childhood was an intimate thing, closely connected to the
present, as if it was still, somehow, incomplete. She could remember the
comfort she had found as a child, hiding away in her bedroll at night,
pretending she was still at home in her bed, that Mom had just tucked
her in, turned out the lights and shut the door. The first year had been
like that, until finally Pop had forced her to stop. Sometimes, when she
felt the world was too scary, she would still go and wrap herself up and
pretend she was a child tucked lovingly into bed at home. She'd curl up
and pull the sheets tighter, trying to imagine that the comforting
pressure of the sheets wrapped firmly about her body were instead the
arms of her mother.
    Ranma settled lower into the chair and gripped the edges of the
towel to keep it from flying open in the stiff breeze. Right now, the
world was a very scary, very uncertain place.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Steve Pardue
spardue@zebra.net
http://www.zebra.net/~spardue/anime