The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the
creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko
Takahashi. They belong to Rumiko Takahashi and her
licensees (Shogakukan Inc., Kitty-Fuji TV, Viz
Communications Inc.) No copyright infringement is
intended.
Many thanks to:
D-chan, for encouragement and invaluable time taken from
her own writing to pre-read for me.
Read D-chan's stories at:
http://www.geocities.com/ayongedarling/
NOTE: Some readers have reported having problems
accessing the page. If you have problems, could you please
let D-chan know when? Is it when you try to access the first
index page or is it somewhere different? Thanks. ^_^
D-chan <ayongedarling@yahoo.com>
And to Jiro Maeda for pre-reading and pointing out some
fundamental errors in my conception of Filipino fighting arts
among other things.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Lure the Tiger from the Mountains
************************************************
************************************************
Chapter: 5
Yu qin gu zong
(Snag the enemy by letting them off the hook)
"Boss! Boss, big trouble!"
Ranma jerked at this urgent cry and slid protectively
in front of Nabiki before the words registered.
"Hi Kimiko, what's up?" Nabiki greeted her friend
calmly as the doll-like girl sprinted up to her, braids flying.
"It's the end of the world!" Kimiko wailed, as
Ranma watched in amazement. He'd never actually seen
anyone wring their hands.
"Oh no," Nabiki said sympathetically, putting an arm
around her. "Kappa in the swimming pool again? Or is
there another poltergeist in the computer lab?"
Kimiko was convinced that the world was _swarming_
with supernatural creatures, and that only her constant vigilance kept
them all from being swept to hell. Or worse. (Thought Nabiki wasn't sure
what was worse than hell. Except maybe Kyoutou in the
summer.)
Nabiki put up with her idiosyncracies because
she'd known her since grade school and had a genuine
fondness for the little ditz. And it didn't hurt that she had a
mind that could crunch numbers like a Cray super-
computer.
"Worse," Kimiko moaned. "Kunou-senpai is back."
"And I was in _such_ a good mood." Despite her
flippant tone Nabiki's face tightened with strain.
"Kunou?" Ranma muttered. "Hey . . .isn't that the
crazy girl with the really big car?"
"This is her brother," Nabiki answered absently.
"Where is he?" she directed the question to her friend, who
pointed toward the athletic fields.
"C'mon," Nabiki threw over her shoulder, not
bothering to see if Ranma was following as she started in
the direction Kimiko had indicated. A few moments later
they rounded the corner of the main building and skidded to
a stop to keep from running into a wall of people.
"Ahhh . . ." Nabiki cursed under her breath.
"Comein' through----get out of the way---"she grunted,
trying to shove her way through the densely packed bodies.
"Hang on!"
Nabiki squeaked as Ranma scooped her into his
arms. He hesitated for a moment, scanning the schoolyard.
With a short running jump, Ranma hit the top of a blue
recycling-bin, full of plastic bottles, and jumped again. The
slight spring-board action of the flexible bin sent them
soaring over the crowd. Nabiki's stomach flip-flopped as
they spun twice, landing lightly on the ground slightly
beyond the wall of students.
"How was that?" Ranma grinned as he set Nabiki on
her feet.
"My tummy is going swhoosh-swoosh." The middle
Tendou wobbled a bit before steadying on her feet.
"What's goin' on, anyway?" Ranma asked, looking
around.
"That," Nabiki said grimly, pointing at a small group
about thirty meters away. "Seiki-Juka no Fuurinkan in all
their glory."
Ranma looked closely at the cluster of male
students. Instead of the normal Fuurinkan military style
tunic and pants of dark blue, they were all uniformly clad in
black Armani suits with thin white pinstripes, broad
shoulder pads and extremely narrow lapels. Each wore an
armband with the kanji Seiki-Juka, "Common-Sense".
"What're they supposed to be? Yakuza?" Ranma
recognized the greasy arrogance covered in a thin layer of
culture and expensive clothes. Chinese Triad, Thai sex-
slavers or Indian Thugee, they were all the same.
"Worse," Nabiki's mouth thinned, "Fuurinkan's very
own junior version of Sokiaya." she explained, comparing
the high-school boys to the all-pervasive and exquisitely
organized professional extortionists.
"What do they do? Beat up kids for their lunch
money?" A good con depended on skill, timing and the
greed of the mark. As far as Ranma was concerned, anyone
stupid and greedy enough to fall for a con, deserved what
they got . . .or, rather what they lost and _he_ got. But beating
up on helpless people . . .that was for fools and failures.
"They're part of the 'Association for Creating new
Textbooks'," Nabiki explained, not noticing Ranma's inner
turmoil. "They're here to make sure Fuurinkan buys the
'right' school books. And make sure we fly the hinomaru
from the flagpole and sing Kimigayo at all school
functions."
"Huh?" Ranma glanced at Nabiki, keeping most of
his attention on the gathering Sokiaya and what appeared to
be a tiny force of teachers who stood opposite them. Even
at this distance Ranma could almost smell the flop-sweat on
the seven adults. Four-to-one (almost five, now)odds were a
little stiff for untrained and out-of-shape teachers. "Why'd a
bunch of operators like that care about salutin' th' flag or
singin' th' anthem?"
"There's a _lot_ of money in textbooks," Nabiki was
watching the tough's gather, grim-faced. She'd been hoping
the police would show up, but after all the time that had
passed it looked like someone higher-up had gotten to them.
Again. "And the 'Association' has a brand new history text,
full of brand new history and they want to make sure that all
good little boys and girls learn properly." Her voice was so
full of loathing that Ranma turned in surprise.
"I don't get it," Ranma flexed, unconsciously
preparing for flight or fight. He'd like to pound them, just
because they gave him the creeps. But there's wasn't any
percentage in it.
"You don't get----oh, you were probably still in
China when it all happened." Nabiki worried her lip. A few
more teachers had shown up, but even if they'd _all_ been
present, they'd have been no match for the young thugs
who crowded up against them.
"Our old principal refused o follow the Ministry of Education order to
fly the flag and play the anthem. So they fired him and brought in a new
principal, a real nationalistic ass-hole. So then the teachers
union dumped all over him, the teachers went on strike and
the students held their _own_ opening ceremony at the start
of the year. Principal Kunou----yeah, _same_ family," she
answered Ranma's unspoken question, "was left singing the
anthem by himself, except for about four of his staff,
because everyone else went to the _student_ run opening
ceremony.
Someone stole the flag-pole too. And his flag."
Nabiki grinned, a nasty, feral sort of grin, at the memory.
"So principal Kunou organized an 'All Japan Youth Club'
to help students and teachers, get into the correct frame of
mind."
A groan went up from the crowd behind them and
Nabiki jerked her attention to the two groups at the bottom
of the slight rise. One of the teachers was down and two
others were trying to help her up. The Sokiaya formed a
semi-circle around the teachers and were pushing them
back, taunting them . . .and the teachers were giving
ground. Another went down, a man this time, and a foot
shod in thirty-thousand Yen Armani shoes drew back to
kick him in the side.
"DO something!" Nabiki hissed as the pointy Itallian
footwear thudded home with an audible groan from the
teacher.
"Do what?" There were twelve teachers, but the
odds were at about five to one now as more nattily suited
thugs arrived. Looking at the Sokiaya's clumsy, untrained
movements, he figured he could take all of them---- but not
without calling attention to himself that neither he nor
Genma could afford.
"I'm pretty good, but not that good," Ranma lied. "And
if I start somethin', somebody, maybe one of those teachers,
could get hurt real bad."
Nabiki looked like she wanted to argue, but Ranma
_was_ the martial artist, so she trusted his judgment.
"The TV," she exclaimed suddenly.
"What?" Ranma looked at Nabiki as if she'd gone crazy.
"The Television Station, and the news-papers. The
police might not want to get involved. But these guys don't
want bad publicity. If I call the TV station and get them to
send----"
A low murmur ran through the crowd of students
and Ranma looked away from Nabiki to see a commotion at
the opposite end of the athletic field, just in front of the
gymnasium.
"It's Akane," Nabiki said with equal measures of
relief and anxiety as she watched her sister limp slowly
across the field. "C'mon----let's get down there." Without
waiting to see if he were following Nabiki scrambled down
the hill. Her sister wasn't moving very fast, but Akane didn't
have as far to go as Nabiki did.
*Great. Just great* Ranma followed, much more
easily, wondering what else could go wrong. Rule three of
The Road, *don't stick your nose into other peoples
business----because you'll get it bitten off"* And there was
absolutely _no_ profit in getting in the middle of
somebody's protection racket on _their_ turf. Moving so
that he was between Nabiki and the action, the two of them
rapidly closed the distance. *Women! They're nothing but
poison* he could hear Genma's voice in his head.
The gang-members themselves didn't worry him.
But gangs like this _always_ had connections with the local cops.
Sometimes even higher up. And you couldn't win against cops. They
were the _biggest_ street gang in the world. They all had
guns and clubs and they all looked out for each other.
And it wouldn't take long for word to get around
about a really good martial artist with a pig-tail, wearing a
red Chinese-style shirt. Maybe it was time to think about a
hair-cut. There _was_ a fool-proof disguise, but he'd almost
_rather_ die than----
"Matsushita-sensei," Akane stopped in front of an
elderly, stoop-shoulder man wearing a baggy tweed coat,
and bowed, "I am sorry to interrupt you, but you are
wanted inside. Class is starting."
"What?" He blinked owlishly behind his thick
glasses, then his face brightened. "Inside . . .yes . . .yes." He
turned to his colleagues. "We mustn't be late for class."
There were murmurs of agreement from his companions,
grateful for an opportunity to leave, without losing face.
A sallow, ferret faced youth stepped in front of
Matsushita, blocking his path. "Yeah? Well, _we_ want you
all out _here_." He reached for the teacher, intending to
rough him up a bit, but his hand stopped so suddenly it
jarred his whole body.
"I'd like to see you after class if I could, Saito-
sensei," Akane turned her head to speak to a passing
teacher. "I'm having some problems with quadratic
equations."
Oh . . .yes, of course," the young woman said
breathlessly, edging past 'ferret face', who was tugging
frantically, trying to free himself from Akane's grip.
"Thank you, sensei," Akane bowed politely,
ignoring 'ferret face' who had dug in his heels in an attempt
to get away. Most of his friends were ignoring the teachers,
streaming away toward the school, and were instead
watching him and snickering.
Ranma thought it was pretty funny too, until the
boy's free hand dipped into his pocket. If he'd been closer,
or had a better angle he might have picked up on it
sooner . . .
*Ah crap*
. . .but 'ferret face' had already shoved the small
silver cylinder in Akane's face and pressed the button. His
mouth opened in a shout of triumph as she took a face-full
of Capsicum----and snapped shut when she didn't go down.
Instead she blinked rapidly to clear her tearing eyes and
plucked the pepper spray from his slack hand. Examining
the label Akane glanced back at the suddenly pale-faced
'ferret'. Opening her mouth she squirted a stream into her
mouth, as if it were breath-spray. Shuddering from the
endorphin kick Akane grinned at the boy, something dark
flickering deep inside her eyes.
Ferret Face's eyes rolled up in his head and he
folded like an empty rice bag.
Ranma swallowed a small lump as he watched the
Sokiaya closest to Akane backed away, resisting an urge to
do the same. He'd seen similar feats, performed by Zen
masters and madmen. And Akane didn't look like she spent
much time meditating. He couldn't figure out why Tendou-
san thought his "baby" needed a man to look after her,
except maybe to hose out Akane's cage and throw her a chunk
of raw meat every now and then.
"You don't mind if I keep this, do you?" Akane
asked the unconscious boy, "It's really good with beef-
bowl." Taking silence as assent, she pocketed the small
cylinder of pepper spray.
"So, Tendou Akane," a boy, taller than the others
and handsome almost to the point of prettiness, stepped to
the fore. "once again you interfere in matters which are
none of your concern."
"Konou-senpai," Akane smiled warmly at the
newcomer, her face softening as the sight of her child-hood
playmate brought back pleasant memories. "I haven't seen
you at club meetings lately."
"I don't have time for childish things," Kunou stood
negligently in front of Akane, one hand thrust in his coat
pocket.
Looking at his stance and build with an expert eye
Ranma figured Kunou was trained in kendo or kenjutsu,
possibly Ittou-ryuu or more probably Maniwa nen-ryuu----
and Akane's next words confirmed this.
"The Kendou club needs you, senpai. They could go
all the way to the finals, with you as captain."
"Why don't you do it?" Konou looked bored, but
Ranma sensed that he was very interested in what Akane
had to say. Kunou shifted his stance slightly, keeping one
hand out of sight in his coat pocket. Ranma figured him for
the kind of guy who would use a furidashiken, a wooden
sword with a live blade concealed inside.
"I'm pretty good," Akane admitted, "but I don't
have the love for it that you do. It's just another weapon to
me, but the sword is a _part_ of you." Ranma felt Konou
preen under Akane's praise and he wondered if they had
something going. He was surprised by a sudden surge of
emotion and repressed it ruthlessly. Anger or . . .or . . .any
emotion was death to a con.
"I have no time," despite his cold tone, there was a
hint of wistfulness in Kuno's eyes, that vanished almost as
soon as it came. "The unity and purity of this school, and
the nation are more important than a game."
"If you change your mind, just let us know." Akane
turned to go, all the teachers having long since reached the
safety of the main building. Most of the watching students
had also trickled back inside.
"Are you captain of the kendou club, now?"
"No, still captain of the swimming club," Akane
answered over her shoulder. "I fill in when the Kenou club
needs help, but no one could replace you," She grinned
impishly. "for one thing, I don't have a cool nick-name like
Blue Thunder."
Konou's mouth opened for a retort, then snapped
shut. Flushing slightly, he decided to cut his losses. Turning
on his heel he made a quick motion and the rest followed, a
few stopping to retrieve 'ferret face' as they left.
"Old boyfriend?" Ranma asked casually, watching
Akane walk away. He didn't like the way Nabiki grinned at
him.
"Who . . .him?" She nodded in Konou's direction.
"He might have thought so, but Akane was only interested
in him for his . . .sword." She was delighted to see Ranma's
cheeks flush slightly at her double entendre. "He could
easily out-point her in straight kendou and European
Fencing," Nabiki decided to let him off the hook, "but
Akane is pretty decent at iai-jutsu," referring to the art of
sword quick-draw, "and good enough at kenjutsu to beat
him one out of four tries. That bothered Kunou, I think, that
a girl with a bum knee could do that well. That and the fact
that she just wasn't interested in him as a boy. Just as a
sparring partner."
"He doesn't know how lucky he is," Ranma
muttered, "did'ja see the way she _ate_ that pepper spray?"
"Wait until it's her turn to cook," Nabiki murmured.
Ranma didn't seem to hear her. "You'd have to be
crazy to be interested in a psycho chick like that." He
muttered in disgust, his eyes unconsciously following Akane
until she was out of sight.
************************************************
Chapter: 6
Wu zhong sheng you
(Create something out of nothing)
"Ahhhh Maaaan!" Ranma looked around in disgust
at the endless corridors, faced with identical, blank-faced
doors. "Where in the world am I now?" Nabiki had ditched
him to go after Akane, telling him 'you won't have _any_
trouble finding the administration office'.
Ha! He'd had less trouble going over the Khyber
pass in winter. All these damn corridors looked alike and he
could _swear_ he'd passed that same coffee stain on the
wall three times before. He was going to wander in circles
until he starved to death.
Th' heck with that. Pulling open a window he
jumped, spinning to slow his fall. He watched the brick
facade speed past, felt the air rush past his face . . .wishing
he could just fall forever or, better, fly like a bird. With
perfect timing he flipped to land and roll, spreading the
impact as much as possible.
"Uhhhhh!" Shaking his head he dusted himself off,
looking up at the window two stories above. He rotated at
the hips, wincing as his back complained. He _might_ have
overdone it just a little. He'd just go around to the front and
ask someone. Or maybe he'd just head back to the Tendou's
and----the jet of dirty water caught him completely by
surprise.
"Ahhhhh . . . .yuck!" He pulled his sopping shirt
away from his breasts.
"Oh no!" A short, moon-faced girl, wearing a work
apron over her Fuurinkan uniform stuck her head out a
door, empty bucket dangling from one hand. "I'm so
_sorry_. I didn't see you out there."
"Thas' OK." Ranma hated how he sounded. Like a
little girl. Well, he _was_ a girl, and not very big at that. But
did he have to sound so damn _cute_! It made him want to
puke.
"It's not OK," the girl exclaimed, grabbing him by
the arm and pulling him through the door.
"Ayumi, you klutz," a voice called, "what have you
done now?"
"It's not my fault, Miyuki," Ayumi protested, "well,
not _exactly_ my fault. See, this girl ----what's your name?"
"Uhhhh . . .Ranma," he answered, without thinking,
slightly off balance as the stocky girl dragged him down the
dark hallway.
"This girl Ranma----that's a funny name for a girl,"
Ayumi chattered nonstop, "Ranma got in the way when I
threw out the waste-water----not that I mean that you're in
the way, way----" she glanced worriedly at Ranma for a
second, "and she got splashed and I had to bring her-----but
it only took a second, so I don't see why you're being so
meaaaan!"
"Ayumi!" A willowy girl, a head taller than Ranma's
male form, with a classically beautiful face, met them at the
end of the corridor. "HUSH!" Pausing to see her order was
obeyed she took a deep breath and put a hand on Ayumi's
shoulder. "Now, then. Slowly . . .tell me what's going on."
So, Ayumi did, wincing now and then as her friend
pinched her ear when she tried to stray off topic.
"Hello," the tall girl turned to Ranma when Ayumi's
recitation was finished. "I am Nakajima Miyuki class three,
home-room four. And this chatter-box," Ayumi stuck her
tongue out, "is Somekawa Ayumi, also class three, home-
room four." Both girls bowed.
"Uhhhh . . .Saotome. Saotome Ranma." He made a
sketchy bow. "Nice to meet you. Uhhhh . . .I've got to get
to the administration office to get registered, so if you
could-----"
"Registered?" Miyuki said in surprise. "You must be
one of the new transfer students." She grinned at Ranma's
look of surprise. "You're looking at the editor of the
Furrinkan High Student Newspaper. All the news that's fit
to print."
"An' some of it's even true." Ayumi pipped up.
"Hush, you." Miyuki made a friendly swipe at the
other girl.
"Hey gang, come look what Ayumi caught. One of
the newbies." And suddenly, the hall was full of girls,
dressed in aprons and carrying brooms, mops, pails and
brushes.
"Our illustrious leader, Principal Kunou," boos and
jeers greeted that pronouncement. "banished us and our
paper to the dungeons," Miyuki explained, waving a hand at
the pipes and conduits that laced the utility corridor, "so
we're trying to clean out the trash and dirt so we can set up
our equipment."
"I miss my darkroom." One of the newcomers
complained.
"We're setting you up as fast as we can, Mieko.
Once we finish cleaning the boys will cart all the heavy stuff
down."
"But, in the _bathroom_?" the girl wailed.
"Ummm . . .if you could tell me how to get to the
office?" Ranma was uncomfortable around so many girls,
even more uncomfortable after his _change_.
"Cripes," a girl, thin almost to the point of
emaciation, exclaimed. "you can't go like _this_. You stink!"
"Youko!" Another voice chided, "that's a terrible
thing to say."
"But true," Youko pulled something wet and sticky
from Ranma's hair with a grimace of distaste. "You are
_such_ a klutz," she directed this comment at Ayumi.
"I'm so sorry," Ayumi whispered, almost in tears. "I
should have watched what I was doing."
"That's OK," Ranma muttered, embarrassed by the
girls tears. "If you could just----"
"Let's get you cleaned up," a couple of girls grabbed
him by the arms and dragged him toward a closed door.
"Hey . . .that's my darkroom," Mieko protested.
"It's also our shower and bathroom," Miyuki
snapped. "and we can't let Ranma go out like this. She'll
catch a disease or something from this crap."
"She stinks." Youko seconded.
"My shirt!" Ranma protested, making a grab for the
garment as a it was whisked off. "Whoooops . . .hey, give
back my pants."
"Your boyfriend's?" a girl grinned, dangling soggy
boxers on one finger.
"NO!" Ranma flushed angrily, "I ain't like that!"
"Quit teasing, Emi," Ranma was shoved, naked ,into
a room filled with boxes and bottles of chemicals. "Don't
mind that stuff. Showers at the end of the room." Another
girl stuck her head in the door. "Here's soap and a towel I
got from my gym bag." Ranma caught the items as they
were thrown. "Take your time. There's plenty of hot
water." Youko missed Ranma's sudden twitch at the
mention of hot water.
******
******
"What's wrong, Ranma-san?" Miyuki asked
solicitously, sitting next to Ranma in the administration
office an hour later.
"Nuthin'." Onna-Ranma replied a bit sullenly, pulling
at his socks.
"Oh . . .I see," Ayumi said cheerfully. "Here," she
pulled a plastic tube from her pocket. "Snoopy Glue."
Ranma stared at her blankly.
"For your socks, silly." She bent down and quickly
applied some adhesive to each of Ranma's legs, then pulled
up her over-sized socks. "There, now they'll stay put."
"Uhhhh . . .thanks." Ranma sat back in her chair,
trying not to tug at the collar of his . . .her blouse. He
suppressed a grimace. Bad enough they'd "kindly" replaced
his ruined clothes with a Fuurinkan uniform, Miyuki and
Ayumi had been "thoughtful" enough to escort him . . .
her . . . to the office and wait with him . . .her, so she
wouldn't feel lonely.
Ranma was still trying to think of a way to ditch
them so he could get back to the Tendou's and
change. And he didn't mean just his clothes. He was
beginning to get a headache trying to remember to use the
feminine parts of speech. Ranma hadn't worn a dress since
. . . he thought for a moment . . .India. The Greek Postman,
Gag. The mayor of Pradesh had a weakness for ten-year-
old girls and two-hundred ounces of gold in a hidden safe.
Onna-Ranma shifted uncomfortably as he . . . she
tried unobtrusively to tug at underwear that was bunching
uncomfortably in a place he . . .she was uncomfortably
aware boy's didn't have. Looking at the chairs lining the
wall, Ranma sighed. There were several people ahead of
him, so hopefully his two new "friends" would give up and
leave. Otherwise he was just going to have to make a trip to
the bathroom, and vanish out the window. He would have
done it already, only girls seemed incapable of going to the
bathroom by themselves, or letting anyone _else_ go by
themselves.
"Kuonji! Kuonji Ukyou?" The assistant principle
called.
"I'm Kuonju Ukyuo," came the answer in a
distinctive Kansai accent.
Onna-Ranma's head snapped around so fast he
almost gave himself whiplash, to see a slender bishounen
boy, with a pony-tail half way down his back, rise from his
seat.
"Come with me please," the pleasant, fiftyish woman
said, and pulled back into her office, followed by the young
man.
"Ranma? Are you alright?" Ayumi was concerned at
how pale Ranma looked.
"Yeah, fine," onna-Ranma said faintly. "I need to use
a telephone."
"There's a green-phone at the end of the hall,"
Miyuki said helpfully.
"Great," Ranma stood up. "I'll be right back."
"Here," Ayumi handed Ranma a handful of coins.
"You'll need these."
"T . . .thanks," Ranma replied, staring at the coins,
feeling a little funny. No one had ever just _given_ him
something before.
"Don't worry about it. If I had been watching what I
was doing, you would have been through long ago."
"Well . . .thanks anyway. It's nice of ya . . .you."
Ranma made a sketchy bow, then dashed for the phone.
************************************************
Chapter: 7
Jai chi bu dian
(Play dumb while remaining smart)
"Son," Genma spoke jovially into the phone's
mouthpiece. "how's your first day at school going?"
"I got splashed by cold water Pop . . .an' I'm
wearin' a dress. How do you think it's goin'?"
"Ahhh . . .well, that's fine," Genma's hand tightened
on the phone. "Ummm . . .how did _she_ take it?"
"She don't know Pop. No one knows, and that's
how it's gonna stay.
"Well . . .that's fine then,"Genma wiped his head
with his kerchief. "How are you getting along with Akane-
chan otherwise?"
"She's a psycho, Pop . . .an animal!"
"Son," Genma barked, seeing all his plans (and all
that lovely money) slip away. "That's no way to talk
about----" he recalled where he was and went on in a lower
tone. "it can't be _that_ bad."
"She _ate_ a can of pepper spray."
"Ahhhh . . . .well . . ." Genma grinned nervously at
Souun who was sitting at the shougi board. "That's just
fine . . ."
"By the way Pop . . .do you remember a guy named
Kuonji?"
Souun watched in concern as all the blood seemed
to drain from his friends body.
"Well," Ranma continued, "his son Ukyou just
registered at Fuurinkan and-----Pop? Pop, are ya listenin'?"
"Genma, my friend?" Souun bent over Genma's
unconscious form. "Are you alright?"
******
******
Onna-Ranma waited outside _her_ home room,
trying not to fidget as he waited for Yumi-sensei to call for
him. This wasn't any harder than the time they'd pulled a
variation of the "Russian Duke Con" on an Afghani warlord,
involving some counterfeit travelers checks, some _real_
gold bullion and a few hundred non-existent Stinger-
missiles.
He just had to convince people he was someone
he wasn't. Of course, he hadn't been wearing a bra then, he
thought, snapping the elastic with a grimace of disgust.
"We have another transfer student," Yumi Junko
said, going to the door. "and I would like a big Fuurinkan
welcome for her." She motioned Ranma to come in. "Please
tell us about yourself."
Onna-Ranma pasted a shy smile on _her_ face,
trying mentally to get and _stay_ in character. "Hello. My
name is Saotome Ranma." She could see Akane stiffen at
the name and hurried a bit with the story she'd come up
with. "My father wanted a boy, but as you can see . . ." she
spread her skirts a bit, then waited for the laughter to die
down.
"My hobbies are singing, swimming and reading
manga." Another short burst of laughter. "I have a cousin,
also Saotome Ranma, who may be attending Fuurinkan
High School. He is the boy my father wanted," a few more
chuckles and Ranma knew he was on a roll, "Ranma is a martial
artist, but is a little shy and spends a lot of time caring for
his father who has been very ill."
Some looks of sympathy, even from Akane, (who
had a pretty good idea that Genma's illness was poured
from a sake bottle) and she knew that she'd "sold" them.
Another successful con. "So you don't confuse me with a
boy," much laughter at this, especially from the boys in
class, "you can call me Ranko. I hope we will all be good
friends."
She headed for the seat Yumi-sensei pointed out.
That hadn't been too hard. Watching what the other transfer
students had done and imitating them had made it a breeze.
"Saotome?"
A strong calloused hand came down hard on
Ranko's shoulder.
"Saotome Ranma!"
Onna-Ranma was spun around to find herself face-
to-face with Kuonji Ukyou, his face suffused with rage.
"You're not Ranma----but if you're a Saotome----"
Ukyou's fist drew back.
"Kuonji-kun,"Yumi-sensei ordered. "Take your seat
at once!"
"Be quiet." Ukyou grated. "This is none of your
concern."
"If you don't take your seat, you'll have to stand in
the hall."
Ignoring this horrific threat Ukyou turned his
attention back to Ranko. "I'm gonna pound you until you
tell me where to find 'Gen-ma'," he turned the name into a
curse. "Then I'm gonnaa pound you until you tell me where
to find his son 'Ran-ma'," his fist twisted in onna-Ranma's
blouse, lifting the small girl off the floor.
Ranma had _hoped_ to keep a low profile. And
having Ranko _not_ do martial arts had seemed like a good
start. If he was going to have a stupid curse, he might as
well get some use out of it.
"Then----- I'm gonna pound you just for being a
Saotome."
Unfortunately, with Ukyou, 'low profile'
apparently meant a broken nose. Onna-Ranma quickly ran
through his options, as Ukyou's fist drew back and decided
on a variation of "Drunken Man Wushu". A supremely
skilled master of martial arts (which perfectly, if modestly,
described him, Onna-Ranma thought) could fight an
opponent yet make it seem entirely accidental.
Ranko let her body go limp, as if in fright, preparing
to execute a Six-Beer-Stagger take-down.
"Hi, my name's Akane," Ukyou's forward moving
fist was caught----and held! "do you want to be friends?"
"No!" Ukyou snarled, struggling to free his hand. "I
don't want to be friends." He glared at the girl who held his
hand as if it were embedded in concrete. "I _want_ to
pound a Saotome. And I'll pound you if I have to." He
released his hold on onna-Ranma, who promptly slid to the
floor, and struck at Akane with his free hand.
"Do you want to be . . .friends?" With a slight grunt
of effort, Akane snagged his other hand.
"Why you----"
Akane turned slightly, to catch a savage snap-kick
on her hip, rather than in her kidney.
"Do you want to be----," Akane tightened her grip.
"friends?"
Ukyou's face whitened, while onna-Ranma winced
in sympathy as she heard the bones in Ukyou's hand grind
against each other.
"You . . ." Sweat broke out on Ukyou's face and the
muscles in his arm bunched as he tried to out-muscle Akane.
"Bitch!"
A trickle of blood ran down Ukyou's chin as he bit
through his lip. "I'll . . .kill . . ."
"Do you want to be friends . . ."
Ukyou met Akane's steady gaze, and saw something
flicker, deep inside her eyes, then vanish. He shook off a
sudden feeling of unease and hit her with another savage
kick. Akane didn't even flinch, as if she were made of stone.
"I . . .I'll never give . . .up," Ukyou panted, pain
shooting up his arms, like bolts of fire. "Sao . . .tome . . .
blood feud . . ." Black dots danced in front of his eyes and
he tried to break Akane's hold with a series of kicks to her
right arm. Akane merely twisted slightly, to take the blows
on her forearm and Ukyou's leg went numb, as if he'd just
kicked an iron bar.
"Never . . .give up . . .stole . . .from us. Ge . . .
Genma. Ranma. I'll . . ."
"I only asked if you wanted to be friends." Akane
repeated mildly, loosening her grip slightly, seeming not to
notice Ukyou's barely repressed gasp of relief. "A friend
wouldn't disrupt class with a fight. A friend could discuss
things calmly, during a break."
"W . . .what . . .what about Saotome?," Ukyou
resisted an urge to cry out as his arms blazed with pins-and-
needles feeling.
" I've got to tell you right now----they're both
guests. So _no_ fighting at our house. Or at school, either."
She watched Ukyou massage feeling back into his hands.
"And, one more thing, Ranma is my iinazuke," there were
stunned gasps from the room, not the smallest from onna-
Ranma, "so . . .unless my father agrees your grievance is
just and honorable, your fight will be with the Tendou
family as well."
"I . . .iinazuke!" To say Ukyou was stunned was an
understatement, on the order of saying Miyamoto was
pretty good with a sword.
"It's an arranged thing," Akane dismissed, "but my
father takes it very seriously. And . . .and I have to as well.
Honor and family are the heart of or our ryuu,"a hint of
steel entered her voice. "So . . .as long as the engagement
holds, a fight with Saotome is a fight with Tendou.
"What about Genma?"
Akane grimaced. "I . . .I . . .he _is_ a Saotome, and
he's a guest . . ." her voice trailed off unhappily. "so they
both are under our protection. Unless you can find a reason
for father to decide otherwise."
"Oh I think I can find _a_ reason. I think I can find
_lots_ of reasons." Ukyou replied grimly.
******
******
"Pop! Dammit Pop, get up!" Onna-Ranma hissed,
clambering through the window, awkward because of the
long Fuurinkan skirt. She moved quickly and quietly toward
the blanket covered lump on the futons.
"Boy," Genma's hoarse whisper came from behind
and above him. "are you alone?"
Ranma kicked at the improvised dummy and looked
over her shoulder at Genma, splayed against the upper
corner of the room like some bloated spider.
"Pop, get down here," Ranma ordered, exasperated.
"I cut out of school early, but they're gonna be right behind
me."
"Who?" Genma wiped the sweat off his brow,
remaining firmly wedged in his refuge, even without the use
of one arm.
"Akane and Ukyou . . .Kounji Ukyou," Ranma
grimaced as Genma squeaked in fright, "are gonna be right
behind me."
"You've got to protect me son," Genma wailed.
"It's your duty to me as your father, and as your sensei!"
"Geeez Pop, get a grip. An' what do you expect
_me_ to do?"
"You engage him in combat, while I make a run for
it!"
"He's not after _me_" Onna-Ranma replied, pointing
a dainty and newly tinted thumb at her chest, "he's after
some _guy_ named Ranma."
"I'll take you down with me, boy," Genma warned.
"I'll expose you in front of everyone. Then they'll know
what a freak you are."
The skin around Ranma's's eyes tightened, only
slightly, but it was enough for Genma.
"I . . .I'm sorry boy, I didn't mean it." But they both
knew he did.
"It's alright, Pop." Ranma sighed, knowing Genma
from long experience. "What th' heck did you _do_ to
Kuonji, anyway? I remember the name, but it's been . . ."
he thought a moment. "eight, ten years? But Ukyou acts like
it was yesterday. He's _really_ pissed."
"We don't have time to go into that----"
"I've got a better chance of knowing what to do, if I
know what you _did_," Ranma explained patiently, knowing
it wouldn't do any good. He never knew what his father had
done, until well after the fact, and sometimes he never
_really_ knew what Genma had done. He just had to try and
clean up after him. And, he wouldn't mind that so much, if
Genma just wouldn't act like _he_ was a mark, too.
"Never mind, Pop . . .I've already got a plan."
"That's my good boy." He jumped down from his
hiding place and hugged his transformed son. Onna-Ranma
resisted briefly, then returned the hug, pretending for a
moment that his father would love him, even if he didn't
have a plan.
************************************************
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