Dave Wong
31st January 2005, 04:15 AM
Disclaimer:
I hold no claim of ownership over the Japanese anime
known as Ranma ˝ nor the American cartoon known as
G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero.
Timeline:
G.I. Joe is around five months before the events in
G.I. Joe the Movie. It has been a year and a half
ever since the episodes of Arise Serpentor Arise took
place.
Ranma ˝ is three weeks after Ranma’s battle with
Saffron.
The year is 1987
A G.I. Joe/Ranma ˝ Crossover
Crossing the Line
By Darksoar
Chapter 1
Revelations and transitions
Part two
Akane was sitting down on the couch in the living
room, eagerly waiting for her fiancee to return home.
Though the television was on, her attention wasn't
focused on it. At the moment she was entertaining a
fantasy concerning her trustworthy mallet and Ranma.
She was smiling in anticipation, and the desire to
perform some extreme bodily pain on a certain Saotome
could be felt a mile away. The two fathers and her
sisters noted the expression on her face and acted
accordingly; they kept a safe distance. They all knew
who she was waiting for, and were very glad that they
weren't the poor unfortunate who Akane would soon
unleash her wrath upon.
At this point Ramna’s tomboyish fiancee was mumbling
to herself, and her fists were tightly clenched. If
anyone had come close enough, they would've had heard,
"That baka thinks he can get away from me? From me?
Well, I'm going to teach him a thing or two. That
two-timing, perverted, insensitive playboy is probably
out flirting with those other floozies, and if he
thinks he can get away with that then I'm personally
going ram my mallet right up his-!"
Where Akane would ram her mallet up was left to
imagination as she suddenly heard someone speaking
right outside the front porch. The sliding door was
open so the sound traveled to her ears rather easily.
As she recognized the voice of the speaker, a hunter's
gleam entered her eye.
"Hey, why don't you come inside and have some tea or
something? After all, you took the time to come all
this way-"
That was all that was said before an eagerly fuming
Akane Tendo pounced. She stomped her way towards the
front porch, unconsciously holding her two hands in
position for summoning her mallet. Upon stepping
outside the door, she immediately challenged Ranma in
a low, dangerous tone that spoke of violence on the
horizon.
"Where did you go this time, Ranma?! The Nekohanten?!
Ucchan's?! Kami-sama help me, the Kunou's
residence?! You ran away to go flirting with those
hussies and YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO BRING ONE OF THEM
BACK TO THE HOUSE FOR TEA!! HOW DARE YOU!" Without
further adieu, she called forth Mallet-sama and raised
it, about to indulge herself in one of her favorite
past times, e.g. Pound the Baka.
Her anger fizzed out, her mallet blinked out of
existence, and complete surprise overwhelmed her. Her
mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. For
the second time in a day, Akane was stunned
speechless.
Before her, standing next to Ranma wasn't Shampoo.
Nor was it Ukyou or Kodachi or any one she knew. In
fact, it was a he. More than that, he was dressed in
a local peace officer's uniform. And he was in what
Akane recognized as a karate defensive stance, with
his eyes tracking her every movement.
Feeling horrified at the prospect of what would have
happened if she had not ceased her sudden attack,
Akane’s mouth wasn’t quite in working order. Her mind
was of an agreement with her mouth. To put it simply,
“……………………………………………………”
Taking some guilty pleasure and satisfaction at
Akane’s reaction, Ranma managed an adequate solemn
face, as well as an equally serious tone of voice as
he said, "Takuki-san, allow me to introduce my
fiancee, Akane Tendo. 'Kane, this peace officer who
you almost struck is Ken Takuki.” He paused, then was
about to say something else, but thought the better of
it.
But he reconsidered it again, wavered, then fell to
the temptation. Schooling his face into what he hoped
was a serious expression, he turned and faced Officer
Takuki.
“Takuki-san, isn’t it a crime to try and attack an
officer of the law with, um, physical violence?”
Ken glanced at the teenager briefly, then regarded
Akane with a hard, no-nonsense glare. “Yes,” he
stated curtly, “it is quite against the law. Unless,
Ms. Tendo, you can give me a satisfactory explanation
on why you come barging out of your house like some
crazed homicidal psychopath, you should know that such
action alone is suitable grounds for taking you down
to the precinct and booking you for, as Ranma put it,
threatening an officer of the laws with physical
violence.”
If Akane had been shocked before, now she was totally
stupefied beyond simple comprehension. Today had been
something else; first Ranma, completely out of the
blue, manages to dodge her mallet, and now this. It
was too much for her to take. The thought of being
booked like a common criminal was the final straw.
With that, her eyes rolled back and she fell to the
floor in a dead faint.
Ken Takuki was dryly amused, and he turned to his
companion. “Well, that’s a new one. I’ve never had
someone faint after I tell them of the possibility of
going down to the precinct.
Still feeling guilty as well as whole lot of surprise,
Ranma shook his head. “I didn’t expect her to react
this way,” he muttered to the older man. “I guess I’d
better take her upstairs to her room before someone
notices and all hell breaks loose.”
He walked inside and quickly looked around. From the
sound of it, Kasumi was doing some late cleaning in
the kitchen. Nabiki was nowhere to be seen, thank
goodness, and the two fathers attention was focused on
their usual game of shogi. A rare stroke of good
fortune!
Gently picking up Akane’s unconscious body, he nodded
to Ken. “Takuki-san, please wait here. I’ll be back
in a few minutes.” After receiving a nod from the
peace officer, Ranma readied himself. Now he would
have to depend on his speed and hope for the best.
Taking a deep breath, Ranma darted rapidly, yet
soundlessly through the open entrance, past the
kitchen, past the two older men, and leapt up the
stairs in a single jump. Snapping a quick look into
the second floor hallway, Ranma was glad to see no one
in view. He stealthily made his way to Akane’s door
and opened it. Slipping inside, he gently closed the
door; thanks to his intimate knowledge of her room, he
could successfully navigate it in the dark.
The young martial artist laid down his burden and
turned to go, feeling that he had stretched his luck
as far as he dared. Ranma didn’t want to think about
what Akane would’ve done if she had suddenly regained
consciousness during his sprint down stairs. Before
leaving her room, he paused and looked at her.
Throughout the entire Jusendo escapade to the failed
wedding, Ranma’s feelings and emotions concerning a
certain uncute tomboy had gone through several major
upheavals. He had been pretty certain that he loved
Akane; his reaction to her apparent death had shown
him the truth. Truth to tell, he’d been willing to
get married to her if she was willing to get married
to him.
Unfortunately, she’d seen fit to place all the blame
on him for the wrecking of the wedding; she’d jumped
to conclusions and believed that he had setup the
whole thing with Nabiki’s help. That was when their
relationship took a turn for the worst. With her
stubbornness, anger, and hate driving her, Akane’s
attitude eventually regressed to the point where it
mirrored that of the early days when she and Ranma
were little more than strangers. Basically, she
didn’t trust him at all and seemed to eagerly seize
any chance, however minor, to hit him. His
unprofessed love for her had taken an incredible
beating, perhaps never to recover fully again. Not
that Akane gave it a chance to revive, that is.
It seemed that her attitude became worse every day.
Now, Ranma was determined to put a stop to it before
it was too late. He’d been through hell, practically,
heck, he’d even KILLED FOR HER and she didn’t even
seem to take that into consideration.
Shaking his head, Ranma took one last glance at his
fiancee’s face and quietly said, “I’m sorry about
this, Akane, but you’re blaming me for something I had
no part in. I wish the situation could be different,
but it’s not. The fact is I won’t follow the same
rules that you’re used to me going by. Good night,
and I hope you realize that before you get hurt.”
Ranma doubted that Akane would come to her senses
about the truth of his “wedding plot” and dubbed it
‘wishful thinking’ if she would. He quietly slipped
out of her room, silently closed the door, and made
his way down the stairs.
He walked towards the front porch, trying to look
casual. Unfortunately he was no actor. If anyone had
been paying sufficient attention, they definitely
would’ve noticed it. But luckily Kasumi remained busy
in the kitchen and Genma and Soun were still deeply
engaged in their game. It had been a clean,
successful operation.
Ken was patiently waiting for him outside. Ranma
nodded towards the open gate and the two of them
headed there. Once out of hearing range of anyone in
the Tendo house (hey, can’t be too careful), Ranma
began, “Takuki-san, thanks a lot for walking with me
from the park. You just saved me a lot of trouble
with my fiancee.”
The peace officer cocked his head to the left and
said, “Saving you trouble? What are you talking
about? I was just doing my duty; it was a simple
case. She came at me with harmful intent and I warned
her about the lawful consequences.”
“I see,” Ranma said, managing a straight face. He
knew Ken was not stating the real reason why, but it
didn’t matter to him.
“Well, anyways, at least I didn’t have an entirely
boring night. I want to ask you a question that just
occurred to me. Aren’t you an extraordinarily skilled
martial artist?”
Ranma beamed at the praise. “Of course! From what
I’ve seen, I’m the best martial artist of my
generation!” Every now and then, his ego had to come
out for some serious stroking.
“Then please explain to me why do you allow a
considerably lesser skilled person like Akane to smack
you around like you were some sort of rag doll?”
At first, the teenager was reluctant to answer.
Then he sighed wearily, as a heavy burden was placed
on his shoulders. “It’s a long story, a very long
story which you probably wouldn’t believe, and I’m not
really sure how I should tell it.”
Ken scrutinized him with an experienced eye. He had a
general idea of what happened in Ranma’s everyday life
and he knew that the younger boy rarely had a moment
of peace. Ken had seen him fight other highly skilled
martial artists. Being a martial arts practitioner
himself, he knew he was simply outclassed when it came
to Ranma and his ilk. Despite the amount of property
damage done, Ken was sharp enough to realize that
there was no real need to try and apprehend the
martial artists. For one, it was rare that innocent
bystanders got hurt, and two, a person would have to
be suicidal to get between a pair of almost
superhumaningly strong combatants. Takuki was devoted
to his job, but he preferred to avoid the emergency
room if possible.
The peace officer had come to know Ranma pretty well,
enough to know that it was near impossible for the
teenager to lie. From what Ken had observed, it
seemed to go against Ranma’s nature to even try and do
so. As Ken studied Ranma’s eyes, he detected no trace
of falsehood; from what he saw in there, it seemed
that Ranma was finally trying to come to grips with
his life. His eyes spoke of an age-old weariness, of
inner pain, bitterness, and torment, and of anger.
But Ken had also seen great determination and
unshakable resolve. It gave him hope for this young
man whom life had stacked all the cards against.
Ken nodded to him. “Okay, but remember, if you ever
have to talk to anyone, you know where to find me.
I’ll be willing to lend an open ear and maybe some
advice.”
Never had Ranma been given such an offer that was
completely free of price tags or conditions. It was,
simply put, a foreign concept for him that it was all
he could do just to nod dumbly in response.
Barely suppressing an amused grin at Ranma’s slack
jawed expression, Ken patted him on the back and
started off down the street. “Till next time, Ranma,”
he called over his shoulder.
Ranma automatically bowed and said, “See you later,
Takuki-san.” As he watched the older man’s figure
grow smaller, he couldn’t help but wonder about
something that had been bothering him for a while.
Could it be Ken Takuki was a true…friend to him?
Was it even possible? If it was, then it was a
novelty for him.
He sighed. Yet another thing to think about, he
decided, and turned to walk inside.
Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
/***************************************/
Early the next morning, a lone individual was at the
park, wearing only long, black silk pants and he was
barefoot.
Although he’d not experienced a nightmare the night
before, which was rare, Ranma had a lot on his mind.
He still had yet to come to peace with Saffron’s
death; in addition to that, he was just embarking on a
journey of self improvement. There were many things
to focus on, and the turmoil of guilt on his soul
didn’t make it any easier.
To help, he was practicing the art of Tai Chi. The
cool wind rustled through his air; the short, cut
grass crinkled under his bare feet; the morning sun
warmed him pleasantly.
Ranma Saotome felt alive this particular morning.
Breathing in and out smoothly and regularly, the youth
considered the routine he was about to do. It was
simplistic and easy; it was also ideal for Ranma to
help dissolve several days worth of stress.
Around nine years ago, Genma had brought Ranma to a
JDSF military base in Hiroshima. Ranma’s father had
heard that there were several men there who were also
skilled martial artists and wanted to see if they
could give him a good match. After Genma easily
defeated local self defense instructor, he’d been
asked by the commanding officer if he wouldn’t mind
staying for a few days and show his men a thing or
two.
Of course, Genma being Genma, master of opportunism
that he was, immediately agreed to it. The two
Saotomes were given a room to stay and were allowed to
eat with the rest of the soldiers in the mess hall.
The next couple of days passed by with Genma teaching
the soldiers, sparring (and learning) with those
skilled martial artists, and enjoying the free board
and room in the meanwhile. With much free time on his
hands, Ranma had taken to wandering around the base,
seeing everything with an enthusiam only a eight year
old could possess.
Ranma had met an American military officer he dimly
remembered as “Hoser-san” during the two weeks he and
his father were there. With Genma busy most of the
time, the youngster took an immediate liking to
Hoser-san, and, in the following days, spent a good
amount of time with him. Eventually, the odd pair
began sharing; Hoser-san had shown Ranma some of the
Tai Chi Chuan he knew and in return, the boy
demonstrated some of the basic tenets of Anything
Goes.
Fortunately, Genma had been sleeping off the effects
of some booze he had purloined somewhere the night
before, else he would frothing mad at his son
revealing his family’s art, to a gaijin, no less!
The tranquility in movement and relaxation of the mind
inherent in Tai Chi helped by easing his tension. He
only focused on the practice itself; having earlier
sorted and prioritized amongst the various issues he
was facing. In doing that, he had come to see that by
dealing with the smaller, immediate issues, the
difficulty in facing the larger ones lying in the
background would be greatly decreased.
The realization did much to encourage him; for in
truth, at times, Ranma had felt that he was going up
against an almost impossible goal. But it wasn’t in
him to quit so easily, even if the odds were against
him one hundred percent. No, he would go through this
with all of his strength, skill, and every ounce of
willpower he had. He meant for today to be a very
important and meaningful milestone in his quest for
betterment of self. Ranma took the events of last
night to be a positive sign; everything had turned out
to be more successful than he had thought.
Today would be a day of changes and surprises, for
everyone, for him. He’d already gotten a good start
by waking up earlier than even Kasumi usually did. He
imagined Genma’s reaction, with a good amount of
amusement, when his son would not be present for their
daily morning spar. And how would Akane behave like
today after those multiple shocks to the system the
day before?
As Ranma finished the closing form, he looked directly
ahead, closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts.
When he was done, Ranma slowly opened his eyes and
went to collect his shirt and slippers.
It was time.
/***************************************/
7:15 am.
The students who were usually among the first ones to
arrive at Furinkan High were startled to see someone
who was usually late. It caused them to do several
double takes in order to verify to see if they
identified the person correctly at first sight.
They had. It was, without a doubt, the foremost
trouble-making student ever to set foot in Furinkan
High School, Mr. Chaos Endowed himself, Ranma Saotome.
He was wearing his usual outfit; red Chinese silk
shirt with sleeves rolled up, black silk pants, and
black slippers. However, if the martial artist was
aware of the glances, he didn’t show it. In fact, he
leaned backwards against the Furinkan front gate,
staring down at the ground with arms crossed over his
chest. There was a subtle, yet definite
I-don’t-want-to-be-bothered air about him that
discouraged anyone from approaching too close. Even
his friends Hiroshi and Daisuke received the message
and kept their distance. But as friends should be,
they were a little concerned about his unusual
behavior and stayed within hearing range.
If a poll had been taken right there, it would have
been shown that a good number of the students had a
feeling that something…different was going to happen
today. And the more perceptive ones would’ve quickly
intuited that Ranma would be the cause for it.
With all the speculation going on, Nabiki walked
intently towards her sister’s fiancee. People noticed
her mood and quickly made way for her, towards her
sister’s fiancee. Nabiki wanted answers now. Earlier
in the morning, Akane had utterly refused to exit her
room, claiming that she was feeling sick and had a
headache. This revelation had Soun going full blast
with his tearing routine and nearly snapped the phone
cord as he frantically dialed Dr. Tofu for advice.
Kasumi, rolling her eyes at her father’s ridiculous
antics, went up to see Akane.
Besides Akane being suddenly sick, the other odd thing
to happen in the morning was that Ranma turned up
missing. Genma said that when he woke up, he had
discovered his son’s absence, but he didn’t know where
he had gone.
Immediately, Nabiki’s well oiled mind started running.
There was an obvious connection between Akane getting
sick and Ranma’s absence. She was worried about Akane
and wanted to find out what Ranma knew, no matter if
he was the cause or not. However, Nabiki did not have
enough time to question Akane, as Kasumi was already
there. Reluctantly, she had eaten, showered, and left
for school.
Now, the Ice Queen of Furinkan strode towards Ranma’s
solitary figure in her best no-nonsense mode. When
she was this way, hardly anyone had refused any
request that she had asked of them. Perceptive as she
was, Nabiki immediately picked up on his quiet and
serious demeanor. ‘I bet it’ll take me less than
thirty seconds to crack through that,” she thought,
smirking.
Stopping to just two feet away from her quarry, Nabiki
cleared her throat to get Ranma’s attention.
There was no response.
She cleared it again, louder this time. ‘Strange,
he’s usually aware of his surroundings. He’ll
probably come out of whatever weird martial arts
meditation he’s in and jump ten feet in the air and
say something like “Nabiki, where’d you come from?’.
She was proved wrong. There wasn’t even a twitch from
the martial artist, not a single acknowledgement of
her presence. He might have been carved out of rock.
Nabiki wasn’t exactly flustered, but now she was
getting a bit annoyed. Ranma had never ignored her
successfully for this long before. Time to resort to
audio. “Ranma,” she snapped in a sharp, accusing tone
that emphatically demanded an immediate, direct
answer, “do you know why Akane was sick this morning?”
Her sister’s fiancee was as cooperative as a statue.
When a couple of seconds passed, and he still hadn’t
answered, the older girl was about to step up to the
next level of interrogation. But before she could do
so, Ranma unexpectedly broke his silence.
Still gazing down at the ground, Ranma replied calmly,
“She’s not sick, Nabiki.”
The Ice Queen considered a moment before replying; the
words were consistent with Ranma’s behavior pattern,
i.e. he was already denying early in the conversation,
but his tone wasn’t. Instead of being indignant and
defensive, Ranma was the total opposite; cool and
collected. Something wrong with this picture and
Nabiki had to find out what it was.
Taking her time to respond to that outrageous claim,
Nabiki affected a disbelieving air. “Not sick? So
why is it that she’s not coming to school today and
Kasumi is nursing her in her room?”
“She just thinks she’s sick.”
“You will forgive me if I don’t buy that line,
Saotome,” she commented sarcastically, “and I know
that you are responsible for her current condition. I
don’t care how, why, or what. All I care about is
that you’d better give me a good answer, one that I
like.” She didn’t say ‘or else’, but she knew Ranma
knew she implied it.
Nabiki was surprised when she heard his answer.
“Well, hearing it from you, Akane sounds really sick.
You know, instead of asking me all these questions,
you could be taking her to the hospital.”
The middle Tendo sister narrowed her eyes, her mind
racing. This was not good; Ranma was unexpectedly
giving her a successful runabout, and the longer he
did that the more her control of the conversation
deteriorated. She couldn’t figure it out, but Ranma
was definitely not himself today, for lack of a better
term. In fact, Nabiki could swear that it seemed that
the martial artist was thinking before speaking. She
had thought it unlikely, perhaps even impossible, but
she suspected that Ranma was deliberately trying to
annoy her. One thing was certain; this wasn’t normal
behavior for him.
Maintaining her cool demeanor while encountering an
unpredictable Ranma took some effort, but she managed
it. Mentally switching gears, she admitted, “Okay,
it’s not that serious. I’m just concerned about her;
I mean, Akane’s never been sick in the morning. I
just want to know what happened to her. I have a very
good feeling that you’re involved somehow; Uncle Genma
woke up this morning to find you gone. You weren’t
anywhere in the house. Why is that, hmmm? You have
to say that it looks very suspicious, on your part.”
Nabiki was certain she had Ranma where she wanted him.
Now she felt confident that his façade would crack
wide open and he would start babbling out denials.
However, with such expectations, Nabiki nearly
facefaulted as Ranma did the last thing she expected;
he started chuckling and for no apparent reason that
she could see.
Raising her eyebrows in confusion, the Ice Queen
wondered what on Earth was Ranma’s game today. She
didn’t like it; she preferred a more controllable,
predictable Ranma than the one she was currently
trying to fathom, without much success.
What the hell was going on here? Did she suddenly
step into the Twilight Zone or something?
Ignoring the startled looks from the other students,
she regained enough of her composure to ask him in an
irritated tone, “What’s so funny, Ranma?” The Ice
Queen found the thought of her somehow missing
something that Ranma had caught onto very disturbing.
If anything else, Nabiki hated being left in the dark.
Winding down on his brief spurt of mild laughter,
Ranma finally looked up and for the first time, she
saw his expression clearly. As their eyes met, upon
seeing the sudden intensity and incredible
determination of his stare, Nabiki inwardly flinched.
But her pride didn’t allow her to look away. Hell,
with so many witnesses around, she had a reputation to
protect, dammit, and her backing down from Ranma would
seriously undermine, if not destroy, it.
So she squared her shoulders and met his gaze head on.
Ranma was the first to speak. In a clear, crisp
condescending tone he said “You don’t get it, do you,
Nabiki? Hell, I don’t think anyone gets it. But I
thought if anyone would get it, it’d be you. But,
unfortunately, you see, you’re part of it as well.
It’s hard to see something for what it really is when
you’re inside.”
“It? What are you talking about Ranma? You’re not
making any sense.” Nabiki didn’t show it, but she was
getting more irritated by the moment.
Continuing as if she hadn’t spoken, Ranma firmly
stated, “I find it funny how Akane became sick. I
find it funny how everyone reacts when she became
sick. I find it funny how everyone automatically
assumes that it’s my fault that she’s sick.” His
voice hardened, turning bitter and angry, as if long
dormant emotions were breaking through. But, aware
that he was losing control, Ranma paused a moment. He
forced the majority of his emotions into a dark hole
somewhere and sealed it tight.
He continued in a more restrained manner, “I find it
funny that for the longest time, I was surrounded, and
still am in some instances, by block headed idiots
like my father, Kunou, Mousse, Ryouga, Kodachi, and
Shampoo! I find it funny that they piled all their
garbage, all their troubles, all their fantasies and
dreams right onto my lap. MY LAP!!” he emphasized in
a louder voice. “As if I don’t have enough problems
with my curse, with cats, with fiancees popping out of
the woodwork,” he spat, saying the word as if it were
a curse.
Now speaking with more heat and passion, but still
held for the most part in check, Ranma continued, “I
didn’t ask for any of this, hell, I didn’t ask to be
engaged to anyone! Not to Ukyou, not to Akane, not to
Shampoo! Although I’ll admit I do share a little of
the fault in both Ukyou and Shampoo’s case, I sure as
hell didn’t have anything to do with my engagement to
that tomboy! And she’s the one who hits me the most
times with that damned mallet of hers every time she
gets angry!” At this point, Nabiki could read in his
face that despite his control, his emotions were
struggling to resurface.
“Fine, I’ll tell you want you so desperately want to
know! You want the reason behind your little sister’s
so called sickness? It’s like what I told you; Akane
isn’t sick. She’s in shock, fully and completely.
The reason why is because she experienced something
that totally defied her expectations and she wasn’t
able to bear it. That’s what’s wrong with her.”
“I’ve got a feeling that I’ll be saying this a lot
during the next couple of days. I guess this means
you’re going to be the first to hear it: I’ve had
enough, do you hear me?”
Nabiki was about to ask another question, but Ranma
overrode her. He wasn’t planning on stopping for
anything. Hell, even if the Prime Minister himself
was present, Ranma was going to speak his mind without
a trace of doubt.
“I’m tired of being treated like I’m some sort of
prize to be won; an object to use and abuse, as anyone
sees fit; or someone to be blamed for his or her
problems. I’m tired of people running my life and
making major decisions on my behalf without my say so.
I’ve had enough of all of IT. So, as of today, I’m
drawing the line right HERE, right NOW, and anyone who
crosses it, God help me, they will live to regret it a
hundred times over. I won’t tolerate bullshit that
anyone, whoever they may be, thinks he or she can push
onto me.”
Ranma didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to,
for his point had been made, clear as a bell. Whether
people understood it or not was their problem, he
figured. He would be happy to ‘help clear’ things up
for them. By what he saw, Nabiki had been temporarily
struck dumb by his declaration and was now staring at
him as if he suddenly grew another head.
Despite her reaction, Ranma knew that she would soon
recover from her shock. He also knew, without a
doubt, that she would soon try and squeeze an
advantage from it for her.
‘Let her react; Let her think; let her study. Let her
try to make a profit out of this. If I know her at
all, I bet she’ll come to think that she can use this
to try and twist me to her own uses. Just let her
try. I’ll be ready.’
Although some seventy students were around them,
though at a respectful distance, all had heard him.
They’d kept their peace, witnessing one of the most
unusual dramas they had ever seen in all their time of
knowing Ranma Saotome.
And now, as Ranma looked over Nabiki’s right shoulder,
he saw one of them, a certain individual, who
coincidentally fit into his ‘master plan’.
The cursed teen grinned, and it wasn’t a nice one.
Rather, it reminded some of the onlookers of a hungry
lion on the hunt.
It was going exactly as he had thought it would.
Cocking his head to the left, he regarded Nabiki for a
second, “S’cuse me, Nabs, but there’s someone I gotta
catch. Later.”
With that, he simply walked past her as if she didn’t
exist.
/***************************************/
Tatewaki Kunou was presently daydreaming about his
Pig-tailed Goddess. With his ever present bokken in
its sheath, he ignored the rest of his fellow students
as he neared Furinkan High’s gate. Deep down inside,
he carried a small amount of guilt that a scion of the
noble House of Kunou would debase himself to
entertaining such delusional fantasies, but he could
not help himself. For him, she was the epitome of
feminine beauty, the perfection of womanly charms.
From the first time he had well, come into contact
with her, Tatewaki had been hopelessly smitten.
Since then, he had taken it on as his personal quest
to endeavor in winning her love. However, as a
ancient wise man had once said, the course of true
love never did run smooth. Countless were the times
he had thrown himself into her passionate embrace,
only to be rebuffed, many times. It was true that
there were only a few instances when Tatewaki and the
Pig-tailed Goddess had spent precious time together,
but he was absolutely sure that her heart belonged to
him and no other.
He was positive, and had evidence to prove his claim,
that whenever the fair maiden had rejected his
gentlemanly gestures of affection, she did so while
under the twisted spell of his none other than his
arch rival, Ranma Saotome.
Further contemplation of the subject was rudely
interrupted by an irritatingly familiar voice coming
from his right.
“Kunou.”
If Tatewaki had been more grounded in reality, he
would have described the voice akin to a razor sharp
katana being unsheathed. If he’d been more
perceptive, he would’ve surely sensed the potential
threat behind that voice posed an extreme danger for
him. Somewhere in an often ignored portion of his
mind, a very small voice that tried valiantly to serve
as his common sense screamed at him that an immediate
tactical withdrawal was wise. Like every other time,
Kunou ignored it with ease.
“State your business, Saotome. I do not wish to waste
my morning in idle gossip with you.”
“I challenge you to combat. Right now, at the track
and field. You win; I release the Pig-tailed Goddess
and Akane Tendo from my spell over them and I swear I
won’t ever involve myself in your dealings with them.
I win; you swear never to touch the Pig Tailed Goddess
ever again or to attack me without first giving an
official challenge.”
Kuno sniffed contemptously, “You do not have suitable
cause to subject a son of the noble Kunou house to
such proposals. Fiend, retract thy statement else
taste the wrath of Tatewaki Kunou, the esteemed Blue
Thunder of Furinkan High!”
Ranma shrugged, completely ignoring the taller boy’s
suggestion. “Nope. Agree to my terms or else you’ll
be known as the Yellow Coward of Furinkan High.
Everyone,” he waved his hand towards their audience,
“is waiting to hear your reply, Kunou. Which will it
be!?”
/***************************************/
As Ranma’s challenge rang throughout the air, Nabiki
finally regained her senses and blinked her eyes. She
was startled when she saw that Ranma wasn’t in front
of her anymore. That was soon remedied when she heard
him speaking in such firm and emphatic tones which
Nabiki had never heard from him before.
Turning around, she automatically motioned to her
assistants to approach and at the same time, got a
handle on what was going on. Ranma was full of
surprises today, and Nabiki had the feeling that he
was just beginning.
Now that she had a moment to think things over, she
felt…, actually she didn’t know how she felt. Well,
at least she knew that she was confused. Oh yes, and
she was still feeling angry from Ranma’s casual
dismissal of her. Another day she would have taken
harsher retribution against Ranma for being so
cavalier in dealing with her, but today proved to be
an exception. She wasn’t just angry and annoyed; her
interest was greatly aroused, as well as her
curiosity. Questions were rampaging through her mind,
and more were being added as she gazed appreciatively
upon the muscular form of Ranma as he challenged
Kunou.
‘Why was Ranma doing this? Who put him up to it? Did
he plan this by himself? Is this somehow responsible
for Akane being sick? Does daddy and Uncle Genma know
of this?’
Unfortunately, the source of those answers to those
questions was otherwise occupied at the moment, and
Nabiki knew that it wasn’t a good idea to interrupt an
official challenge. She’d have to settle and question
Ranma later. One thing she instinctively knew,
however, was that the week was going to be very
interesting.
/***************************************/
Silence prevailed.
A hush fell over the gathered group of students as
they awaited a response. This was a first. Usually,
it was the older boy who initiated the challenge, but
today it was the reverse. Which wasn’t the least
normal, but then again, anything involving Ranma
wasn’t for that matter.
Tatewaki Kunou’s face was a study in pure,
unadulterated wrath as he fought to compose himself
and also to draw his bokken and cut down the nefarious
Saotome where he stood. As much as it nettled him, he
was forced to admit that the fiend had made an
official and, unfortunately, legible challenge. And
in order to protect his honor and not lose face in
front of the student body, Tatewaki had only one
choice he could make.
Standing straight and tall, the kendoka raised his
wooden blade and pointed it directly at his rival. At
last in control of his anger, he said but two words.
“Challenge accepted.”
“And the terms?” Ranma wasn’t taking any chances. He
wanted to absolutely make sure that Kunou knew what he
was getting into. The pigtailed boy had counted on
the rest of the students for serving as invaluable eye
witnesses.
Gritting his teeth, Tatewaki quickly considered the
terms. He would have liked to raise some protest, but
as he went over them, he saw that he stood to gain a
lot, should he emerge victorious. And even should he
lose, he would still have the voluptuous Akane Tendo
to pursue with all his heart. It would be a shame to
lose the lovely attentions of the Pig-Tailed Goddess
though.
Grudgingly, he nodded his acceptance, however
reluctant, of the fiend’s terms and sheathed his
bokken. “Shall we proceed to yon battlefield, rival
mine?”
With an inscrutable expression, Ranma replied with
unusual equanimity, “Sure.”
/***************************************/
Ten minutes later, at Furinkan’s track and field, the
two rivals stood ten feet from each other, ready to
commence the challenge.
Ranma was completely calm, as well as silent. This
struck his fellow students as very strange; usually
Ranma would be hurling insults at his foe or boasting
of his own prowess. The ‘Wild Horse’ had his reasons
for not doing so; he wasn’t telling, though.
Although many students had gone to their beginning
morning classes, a good number had remained to watch
the fight. True to form, Nabiki and her subordinates
were working the crowd, taking bets. Since it was
proven to be a fact that Kunou would never win a fight
against Ranma, the shrewd middle Tendo sister decided
to capitalize on something else. Thus, she started
the bets going on how many minutes would it take Ranma
to beat Tatewaki.
After the last bets had been taken, a dead silence
fell upon the spectators. No one moved a muscle,
seemingly not wanting to distract either fighter.
Tatewaki Kunou placed his right foot forward and set
back his left foot with the heel slightly raised. In
one swift motion, he drew his bokken and leveled it
above his head and across his shoulder. With that
done, he bellowed a battle cry and darted forward.
Ranma saw him coming and dropped into a loose side bow
stance. His face showed almost no emotions at all,
beyond a calm readiness.
“The vengeance of heaven is slow but sure!” cried
Tatewaki as he began closing the distance between
them.
A distant part of Ranma’s brain wondered exactly where
Kunou found the extra air to shout like that while
running. The rest of him focused on the approaching
battle. That portion told Ranma not to hold back as
much, because for this part of his plan to be
successful, he had to unleash at least some of his
true strength.
When he got within striking range, the kendoka shifted
his wooden blade to the right and abruptly slashed
across, aiming for Ranma’s chest. Not surprisingly,
the pigtailed martial artist simply leapt over the
slash.
In midair, Ranma gritted his teeth in silent annoyance
at Kunou’s tirade. Employing his mastery of Anything
Goes, he twisted his body to the side and kicked his
opponent squarely in the jaw. Momentarily stunned,
Tatewaki staggered backwards a step. Upon landing,
Ranma immediately dropped into a crouch and did a
footsweep, knocking the kendoka’s legs out from under
him.
Although stunned from the kick to the jaw, Tatewaki,
through sheer willpower, forced away the pain and
controlled his fall, guiding it into a backroll.
Coming quickly into a crouch, the older boy lashed out
twice in wide arcs to discourage any further attacks
and also to buy him some time to come up with a
possible tactic to use against his foe.
It didn’t work.
Waiting until the second slash was halfway completed,
Ranma moved like the wind, for once utilizing his full
speed. He blurred forward and appeared only a foot
away from Tatewaki. Before the startled older boy
could react, the Anything Goes practitioner was
already attacking.
The other students winced in sympathy as they saw a
completely one sided fight as Ranma simply beat down
Kunou relentlessly. They were shocked and more than a
little scared by the way he was fighting. The
pigtailed boy wasn’t throwing insults, fighting near
his opponent’s level, or following his usual tactics.
Instead, they saw a harder, serious, and intensely
focused stranger in his place.
A quick left hand chop struck at a single pressure
point on Kunou’s wrist, forcing him to drop his
weapon. In lightning quick motions that were all but
invisible, Ranma threw two consecutive right jabs,
followed up by a left straight to the chin, barely
holding back. Weaponless and hurting from the
combination, Kunou was wide open to the triple blow
follow up; a savage roundhouse to the rear of the jaw,
a left hook to the temple, and a right uppercut. His
head was knocked back, and when it resumed its normal
position, Ranma wasn’t surprised to see that Kunou was
still conscious.
He unleashed a left uppercut, this time bending his
upper body lower, thus springing up with greater
force. Once again, Kunou’s head snapped back and
Ranma relentlessly continued the assault. With a loud
kiai, he stomped forward with his right foot, and
worked his fists into a blur, striking the Blue
Thunder eight times on his body. Although not at
Amaguriken speed, the eyes of the other students only
caught the barest of flickers of motion. Two punches
for the chest, the solar plexus, the stomach, and the
abdomen. Incredibly, despite the blows, Tatewaki
managed to stand, though he was unsteady, staggering
off balance, and was blinded by the pain for the
moment.
Ranma let him sway for a moment and backed up half a
step. With another loud kiai, he lashed out with
strong, yet lightning quick palm strike to Kunou’s
chest. The force behind the blow lifted the hapless
Blue Thunder off his feet and sent him flying
backwards to land heavily several feet away.
`
When Tatewaki didn’t immediately get up, Ranma nodded
in grim satisfaction. He went, picked up the dropped
bokken, and began purposely walking towards the
slightly moving figure.
Upon reaching him, he saw that the Blue Thunder was
curled up and alternating between coughing and gasping
in big breaths of air. He stopped and stood a foot
away from him. Despite his outward calmness, some of
the tension had built up from his ‘talk’ with Nabiki.
Now, on the eve of the first step in truly making a
difference in his own life, Ranma dispelled that
tension and hardened himself. He was still adamant
about settling things with Kunou.
After a minute, Tatewaki was able to regain his
equilibrium and had recovered his normal breathing
rate. Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was
the figure of his most hated adversary. Automatically
he tried to climb back to his feet, only to realize
that the cursed Saotome had stolen his bokken and was
pointing it at his throat. Wooden or not, the point
was still sharp enough to poke a hole in his throat
should Ranma was of a mind to, with sufficient force
behind it, of course.
Most of the Kunou family had, to a certain degree, a
remarkably deluded mind, but fortunately for Tatewaki,
he wasn’t as misguided as his sister or his father.
To be sure, he was still delusional, had a remarkably
quick recovery from injury, and was incredibly
stubborn as well. He was all these things, but
surprisingly he was not a complete idiot. Kunou knew
that he was in a hopeless position, and he had no room
to maneuver. So it was that brimming with self
righteous indignation, humiliation, and fury, Tatewaki
leaned back on his elbows, glaring at Ranma all the
while.
“Fool, you dare tempt my ire by thinking to threaten
me by my own weapon? Do you not know the danger of
do-urrk!”
The Blue Thunder of Furinkan High suddenly found out
that it was difficult to talk normally when the tip of
a sharp, pointed object, a bokken in this case, dug
painfully into his throat.
“Shut up, sempai.” That last word was spoken with a
grim sarcasm. “I am going to say some things that I
want you to hear, and you’re not gonna interrupt me.
Because if you do, I’m gonna keep poking this wooden
stick here in your throat. The more you interrupt me,
the more deeper I’ll poke. Capeesh?”
“Foul enemy of wom-urrrg!” As always, Kunou was a
slow learner to certain things.
“Will you be quiet; or will you force me to rip you a
new one?”
“I, the Blue Thund-urrrk! Auurrgh!” True to his
word, Ranma pushed the bokken a little bit deeper; as
it was, Kunou couldn’t speak a word without gagging
first. He could barely breathe at this point without
adding to the pain. It galled him. But he realized
that he had no choice in the matter. And that galled
him even more.
For once in all the time Saotome was his rival, Kunou
was forced to accept his utter defenseless postion and
to submit to the hated underclassman. He was
delusional, not suicidal. The Blue Thunder clearly
heard the uncompromising tone in Ranma’s voice; saw a
glint of hardened, cold determination in his eyes.
Tatewaki was suddenly doubtful that his rival’s threat
about ‘ripping him a new one’ was a mere jest. It
seemed to him that Saotome was deadly serious, and a
chill swept over him.
Satisfied that Kunou would hold his peace at least for
the moment, Ranma eased back on the bokken. Already
his sharp eyes could detect the beginnings of a bruise
on the Blue Thunder’s neck, but he ignored it. With
his blood still running hot from the excitement of the
fight, Ranma had to force himself to calm down in
order to properly finish this business.
"I win,” he stated loudly, finally, “and you’ll uphold
your end of the terms. No arguments, no complaints.
Agree as an honorable man would.”
There was no immediate reply. Ranma could tell the
reason just by looking in Tatewaki’s eyes that there
was great conflict. Principle Kunou’s eldest was
stuck between the mighty titans of pride and honor.
Before, they worked hand in hand for Tatewaki, even at
times he’d ignore one and focused on the other. But
now, Ranma had cleverly manipulated circumstances so
that there would be unfortunate consequences should
Tatewaki decide to do that now.
“I know not what is your objective, Saotome, but-“
“But nothing. And stop trying to stall or change the
subject. Will you uphold the agreement we made
regarding the terms or will you not?”
When Tatewaki still made no reply, Ranma added,
“Everyone’s waiting to hear what you have to say,
upperclassman.” Which was a subtle reminder that
Kunou would lose face, big time, should he choose to
go back on his word and honor.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the Blue Thunder
averted his gaze from Ranma and his demeanor became
aloof and detached. Then, in a harsh, grating sort of
way, he began speaking.
“I, Tatewaki Kunou, do hereby accept,” saying the word
‘accept’ as if it left a foul taste in his mouth, “my
defeat in single, honorable combat against Ranma
Saotome. Furthermore, I will accede to the following
conditions proposed prior to said combat; I, with all
witnesses present, swear never to harry or express my
love in regards to the Pig-tailed Goddess.
Additionally, I also swear I shall not assault Ranma
Saotome without first conveying an official challenge.
Thus I swear all these things effective, on the honor
of the noble House of Kunou, as of today!”
Though he didn’t show it, Ranma let out a mental sigh
of relief. Surprisingly, he did not feel elation to
any great extent, though he was pleased that it had
worked out as well as it had. The young Saotome had
thought that Kunou would be much more resistant than
this, but as it was, he gave silent thanks above.
Maybe he’d underestimated Kunou’s sense of honor and
fair play. Or maybe it was that he had controlled the
whole affair to work to his advantage all the way.
Whichever it was, it was the results that mattered the
most.
“Okay then, that’s it. Till our next official
challenge, Upperclassman Kunou.”
Ranma shifted the bokken to his left hand and offered
the other to the Blue Thunder. At first, he thought
that Kunou wouldn’t accept it, but he was mistaken.
Hesitantly, with great reluctance, Tatewaki lifted his
hand and took it. Pulling the kendoka up effortlessly
in one smooth motion, Ranma regarded his rival. He
was both surprised and impressed; if their positions
were reversed, Ranma wasn’t certain he would be able
to sufficiently let go of his pride enough to accept
the gesture.
One thing was clear to him; behind the visage of a
bokken wielding, pseudo Shakespeare and samurai
enthusiast, Tatewaki Kunou possessed unexplored and
unknown depths to his character.
Even to himself.
/***************************************/
A couple of feet away, amidst the group of students
who had watched the entire fight, Nabiki stood with
her subordinates. Now as she saw Ranma helping
Tatewaki up, her ‘shock meter’, already cracked in
some places, shattered totally.
However, she was made of firmer stuff than her younger
sister. She did not faint nor did she mentally blank
out for an hour or more. However, it was safe to say
that later on she would require time to fully
assimilate what she’d experienced.
“Now that’s something you don’t see everyday,” she
muttered, summing up how everyone felt at the moment.
/***************************************/
Throughout the rest of the day, the news about the
morning fight sped throughout Furinkan like wildfire.
Although Ranma beating Kunou wasn’t anything new, it
was how he did it that provoked sufficient interest to
be inducted into the rumor grill. Never had anyone
seen Ranma attain victory through use of force; and it
wasn’t just a victory, it was an overwhelming
revolutionary turn of events that promised to change
everyone’s view of the pigtailed martial artist. Not
only that, but also the way how Ranma stood up to
Nabiki earlier provided extra ammunition for such a
promise.
Many who had heard the second set of news were in
shock. To nearly the entire school, the idea of
standing up and telling off the infamous Ice Queen was
completely foreign. Everyone wanted their reputation
and social standing to remain preserved; none liked
the thought of their secrets being paraded in
Furinkan’s halls on display for all to see. After
all, who did?
Many a student took a perverse pleasure that since
there were many firsthand eye witnesses during the
confrontations with Nabiki and Tatewaki apiece, the
Ice Queen couldn’t charge a cent for details.
However, it seemed that Nabiki was affected by that
scene with Ranma. Her subordinates received her
silent message that she wanted to be left alone. No
one else dared or wanted to approach her.
Virtually tons of speculation, wild guesses, and their
ilk ran amok throughout the grapevine. Heads turned,
furtive glances taken, and hushed whispering started
wherever Ranma went. Staunchly, he ignored it and
continued on with his day. At the same time, he gave
off an aura that matched Nabiki’s in effect. Hiroshi
and Daisuke, being his closest friends in Furinkan,
stayed close but kept silent. Although they should’ve
been wary of him because of the brutal way he’d forced
Kunou to heed the terms, they instinctively knew that
Ranma wasn’t a danger to them. They also suspected
that there was a lot more to come, and it was mutually
agreed between both of them that Ranma wasn’t done
yet.
“And now, students, please turn to page 45. Now as
you see Figure 3-4, the right angle is at 90 degrees,
always, without exception.” Mr. Yamato, a balding,
middle aged Math teacher was currently lecturing on
Trigonometry in homeroom 2-A. Considered by most of
the students as one of the most boring teachers in all
of Furinkan’s faculty, it took an effort just to stay
awake in class.
Ranma, Hiroshi and Daisuke had the misfortune to be
among the unlucky twenty five students in said class.
Fortunately, the three friends had seats at the back
in the same row, so they were relatively shielded from
Mr. Yamato’s near sightedness. Surprisingly, Ranma
wasn’t sleeping, but neither was he paying attention
to the lecture. It seemed to his two friends that
Ranma had withdrawn into himself; some place where he
could block out his surroundings and do some thinking.
Hiroshi and Daisuke thought it was a good thing he’d
done that. They weren’t sure of otherwise how he
might respond to the level of fear being shown of him
by their fellow classmates. It was as if everyone
else sitting around the trio were afraid that Ranma
might suddenly go berserk or something.
Such reactions coming from their classmates really
disappointed Hiroshi and Daisuke. The two boys had
thought their fellow students and friends were better
than that. Perhaps they’d overestimated them.
Thirty minutes before Trigonometry ended, both of them
were passing back and forth a single notebook that
served as their communications relay. They timed the
passing in such a way so that they didn’t get caught.
By the time, the bell rang, their ‘conversation’ was a
couple of pages long.
Hiroshi: <I don’t believe these idiots! After all
Ranma’s done for them, after all he’s been through,
they decide to turn on him like this!>
Daisuke: <Hiro, don’t be too hard on them. They’re
just afraid. They’ve never seen Ranma act like this
before and it scares them.>
Hiroshi: <Scared? Why they should be scared of him?
He hasn’t done anything to anyone who didn’t deserve
it and he’s always protected, or at least tried to,
those weaker than him.>
Daisuke: <That’s true but you gotta remember. They
don’t know Ranma like the both of us do. As a matter
of fact, probably aside from the Tendo family and
maybe Ukyou, no one knows Ranma better than us.>
Hiroshi: <Heh, damn right! Everyone thinks that we
just ‘hanging on’ to Ranma, as if we’re trying to grab
onto some of that attention for ourselves. Well I’d
admit that it was like that when we first got to know
him, do you remember those days Dai?>
Daisuke: <Do I ever! Remember that one time we were
bothering him with all sorts of idiotic questions
about whether he’d gotten Akane into the sack yet?
Remember what happened when he got so distracted by
our questioning?>
Hiroshi: <By either luck, accident, or fate Akane
batted a foul ball right into his cheek! Man, my
sides were starting to hurt from hiding all that
laughter back. And when we found about the existence
of the ‘Pig Tailed Goddess?>
Daisuke: <Geez, I forget how many times w asked him
to set us up with her! It was a wonder he didn’t lose
his patience and smack us into next week!>
Hiroshi: <Yup, those were the times. But we’re
getting off track here. Ranma’s done a lot of dumb
things, but I think he’s done even more good for the
entire school. For example, I can’t count the number
of times he’s chased Happousai out of the girl’s
locker room, or help return their stolen
unmentionables.>
Daisuke: <A very valid point. It reminds me of
something I read in a book about human nature. I
forgot the title, but it describes Ranma’s situation
rather nicely.>
Hiroshi: <Do tell.>
Daisuke: <Well, in the book, there was a short story
about a king. This king was a good and noble king,
making sure his laws were just, making his taxes
reasonable, judging cases as fair as he could, having
the welfare of his realm in mind, you know, those sort
of things. Well, after nearly twenty years of being
such an ideal king, he was found out in a scandal
involving one high-born lady of the court. And she
was married, to boot. Well, to make a long story
short, the populace, his subjects, forgot about all
the good he’d done for them in a surprisingly short
amount of time. They began to call for his
dethronement and basically turned their backs on him.
Instead of forgiving and forgetting, they started
howling for his blood and chased him out of the
kingdom. He died of heart break and depression a
short time later, a bitter and coldly indifferent man
who held little resemblance, save physically, to that
of a once great king.>
Hiroshi: <Nice. I think I see where you’re going.
It just takes one wrong act to be done in order to
transform a person into a criminal in everyone else’s
eyes. It doesn’t matter if his track record was that
of a saint, does it?>
Daisuke: <I’m afraid not, Hiro. And that is kind of
what’s happening to Ranma. Our classmates, even if
they don’t like Kunou that much, are shocked. All
this time, they’ve grown used to Ranma acting the way
he’s been acting all this time. And when out of the
blue, he does something unexpectedly like threatening
Kunou's life with his bokken (personally I thought it
was overdue), it threw them for a loop. They suddenly
started thinking if he’d lost it, and were scared of
the harm he was capable of with all the skill at his
disposal.>
Hiroshi: <You hit it right on the mark, bud.
However, I’m getting kinda tired of their stupid
behavior, human or not. Ranma’s not a saint or
anything, but he’s also done a good amount for the
school! But look at them! They’re treating Ranma as
if he had some sort of disease or something! I’ve got
half a mind to walk up and knock some sense into them,
right away.>
Daisuke: <I know how you feel. I’d like to do
something among the same lines. But hang on and don’t
do anything now, all right Hiro? Come lunchtime and
we’ll talk it over. I’m sure we can think of
something that’ll help Ranma.>
Hiroshi: <Okay Dai. But we’d better do something,
cuz I’m not sure how long our bud can last with
everyone like this. Give a few more days and it’ll
get to him. Then he’ll have a bigger problem on his
hands!>
/**************************************/
When the lunch bell rang, Hiroshi’s patience was just
about wasted. This had come about by the constant
note passing and head turning by his classmates, all
regarding Ranma. This had served to effectively annoy
and irritate Hiro, who, after only a few minutes of
watching this activity, was ready to start shouting in
all their faces to shut up and telling them off.
Thankfully, the notebook conversation managed to calm
him down sufficiently enough to hold on, as Dai had
suggested.
As everyone collected their book and bags, some took
this opportunity to take a last glance at Ranma. That
was when Hiro and Dai acted like overprotective
bodyguards. Hiro glared furiously at them, making a
great show of scowling aggressively and gritting his
teeth together. Dai simply affected a small frown, a
look of obvious disdain, and a cool, challenging look
in his eyes.
Feeling uncomfortable at being caught staring, their
classmates hastily left the room, leaving Hiro, Dai,
and Ranma, who was still in deep thought. Shaking his
head in disgust at the attitudes of some people, Hiro
stood up and went to his pigtailed friend.
“Ranma, class’s over. It’s time for lunch.” he
placed a concerned hand on Ranma’s left shoulder and
shook him gently. If his classmates had seen him do
that, they would’ve probably tried to stop him.
However, Hiroshi was firmly convinced that Ranma, no
matter what happened, would not hurt or threaten him
of his own will.
His faith was affirmed when the young martial artist
blinked once, coming out of his introspection, and
stood up. Looking around, Ranma saw that the room was
empty of people save for the three of them.
Scratching the base of his pigtail in confusion, he
asked, “Hiro, Dai, where is everyone?”
Stifling a laugh, Hiro smiled. “It’s time for lunch,
man. What say we go outside and get some fresh air or
something while we eat our bentos?”
If it was any period that Ranma liked the most in
Furinkan, it was most definitely lunch period.
Usually, he had a delicious, tasty bento cooked by
Kasumi and would sit in his favorite spot, which was
under the oak tree, with either Ukyou, Akane, or the
two boys, depending on his mood and needs at the
moment. Based on past experience, Hiro and Dai knew
that Ranma would cheer up, or feel better at the very
least, come lunch. They planned to talk to him, if he
was willing, about what happened that morning.
They were correct in one aspect, but they were wrong
in another.
As soon as Hiro said the word ‘lunch’, his mood indeed
changed. But instead of shifting from a sort of
distracted introspection, a switch seemed to flick the
other way, fueling Ranma with a sudden surge of
energy. Had Hiro and Dai been able to see Ranma’s
aura, they would’ve been surprised. It was a bluish
determination, more than matching Ranma’s usual yellow
confident aura in intensity. As it was, Hiro
reflexively took a step back, surprised at this abrupt
change. Dai looked on with amazement, and with a
little apprehension.
Ranma Saotome’s eyes were alive, radiating with pure
determination and unbreakable resolve. To his
friends, it looked as if he’d decided upon a difficult
decision that had been plaguing him for some time. It
would turn out that they were correct.
Hesitantly, Daisuke asked Ranma, “Hey Saotome, what’s
wrong?” Hiroshi mutely nodded his agreement with the
question.
Ranma just stood there. For a moment he was silent,
as if gathering his thoughts. Then he met Daisuke’s
eyes and smiled faintly.
“Nothing’s wrong, Dai. I’ve just made a difficult
decision, one that, for a long while, I’ve never
thought I could ever determine on acting upon.” He
paused for a second, then continued, “I need to go
now, even though it’ll probably mean missing the
remaining half of the day. It doesn’t matter anyway;
what I have to do is more important to my life in the
future.”
It was Hiroshi who ventured to ask the obvious
question, “Where are you going?”
Ranma’s answer was quick and offhanded. “I think I
need a long, good chat with my mother, Nodoka
Saotome.”
End Chapter 2
Author’s Notes:
Whew, a tough one to write! Thank goodness it’s done!
To the readers, sorry about the delay. At the same
time while I was writing this, I was also doing some
heavy editing for the prologue, as well as writing the
second chapter of my ‘The Incredibles’ fic.
C&C is very welcome and appreciated. In the future
when I reach a certain chapter, perhaps chapter six or
seven, I’ll start doing a rewrite of earlier chapters
and posting them up on the FFML, implementing all the
suggestions and corrections everyone sent me : - ).
Stay tuned for Chapter 2, as we see what the Joes are
up to, and Cobra starts the beginning stages of their
plan. See ya there!
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I hold no claim of ownership over the Japanese anime
known as Ranma ˝ nor the American cartoon known as
G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero.
Timeline:
G.I. Joe is around five months before the events in
G.I. Joe the Movie. It has been a year and a half
ever since the episodes of Arise Serpentor Arise took
place.
Ranma ˝ is three weeks after Ranma’s battle with
Saffron.
The year is 1987
A G.I. Joe/Ranma ˝ Crossover
Crossing the Line
By Darksoar
Chapter 1
Revelations and transitions
Part two
Akane was sitting down on the couch in the living
room, eagerly waiting for her fiancee to return home.
Though the television was on, her attention wasn't
focused on it. At the moment she was entertaining a
fantasy concerning her trustworthy mallet and Ranma.
She was smiling in anticipation, and the desire to
perform some extreme bodily pain on a certain Saotome
could be felt a mile away. The two fathers and her
sisters noted the expression on her face and acted
accordingly; they kept a safe distance. They all knew
who she was waiting for, and were very glad that they
weren't the poor unfortunate who Akane would soon
unleash her wrath upon.
At this point Ramna’s tomboyish fiancee was mumbling
to herself, and her fists were tightly clenched. If
anyone had come close enough, they would've had heard,
"That baka thinks he can get away from me? From me?
Well, I'm going to teach him a thing or two. That
two-timing, perverted, insensitive playboy is probably
out flirting with those other floozies, and if he
thinks he can get away with that then I'm personally
going ram my mallet right up his-!"
Where Akane would ram her mallet up was left to
imagination as she suddenly heard someone speaking
right outside the front porch. The sliding door was
open so the sound traveled to her ears rather easily.
As she recognized the voice of the speaker, a hunter's
gleam entered her eye.
"Hey, why don't you come inside and have some tea or
something? After all, you took the time to come all
this way-"
That was all that was said before an eagerly fuming
Akane Tendo pounced. She stomped her way towards the
front porch, unconsciously holding her two hands in
position for summoning her mallet. Upon stepping
outside the door, she immediately challenged Ranma in
a low, dangerous tone that spoke of violence on the
horizon.
"Where did you go this time, Ranma?! The Nekohanten?!
Ucchan's?! Kami-sama help me, the Kunou's
residence?! You ran away to go flirting with those
hussies and YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO BRING ONE OF THEM
BACK TO THE HOUSE FOR TEA!! HOW DARE YOU!" Without
further adieu, she called forth Mallet-sama and raised
it, about to indulge herself in one of her favorite
past times, e.g. Pound the Baka.
Her anger fizzed out, her mallet blinked out of
existence, and complete surprise overwhelmed her. Her
mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. For
the second time in a day, Akane was stunned
speechless.
Before her, standing next to Ranma wasn't Shampoo.
Nor was it Ukyou or Kodachi or any one she knew. In
fact, it was a he. More than that, he was dressed in
a local peace officer's uniform. And he was in what
Akane recognized as a karate defensive stance, with
his eyes tracking her every movement.
Feeling horrified at the prospect of what would have
happened if she had not ceased her sudden attack,
Akane’s mouth wasn’t quite in working order. Her mind
was of an agreement with her mouth. To put it simply,
“……………………………………………………”
Taking some guilty pleasure and satisfaction at
Akane’s reaction, Ranma managed an adequate solemn
face, as well as an equally serious tone of voice as
he said, "Takuki-san, allow me to introduce my
fiancee, Akane Tendo. 'Kane, this peace officer who
you almost struck is Ken Takuki.” He paused, then was
about to say something else, but thought the better of
it.
But he reconsidered it again, wavered, then fell to
the temptation. Schooling his face into what he hoped
was a serious expression, he turned and faced Officer
Takuki.
“Takuki-san, isn’t it a crime to try and attack an
officer of the law with, um, physical violence?”
Ken glanced at the teenager briefly, then regarded
Akane with a hard, no-nonsense glare. “Yes,” he
stated curtly, “it is quite against the law. Unless,
Ms. Tendo, you can give me a satisfactory explanation
on why you come barging out of your house like some
crazed homicidal psychopath, you should know that such
action alone is suitable grounds for taking you down
to the precinct and booking you for, as Ranma put it,
threatening an officer of the laws with physical
violence.”
If Akane had been shocked before, now she was totally
stupefied beyond simple comprehension. Today had been
something else; first Ranma, completely out of the
blue, manages to dodge her mallet, and now this. It
was too much for her to take. The thought of being
booked like a common criminal was the final straw.
With that, her eyes rolled back and she fell to the
floor in a dead faint.
Ken Takuki was dryly amused, and he turned to his
companion. “Well, that’s a new one. I’ve never had
someone faint after I tell them of the possibility of
going down to the precinct.
Still feeling guilty as well as whole lot of surprise,
Ranma shook his head. “I didn’t expect her to react
this way,” he muttered to the older man. “I guess I’d
better take her upstairs to her room before someone
notices and all hell breaks loose.”
He walked inside and quickly looked around. From the
sound of it, Kasumi was doing some late cleaning in
the kitchen. Nabiki was nowhere to be seen, thank
goodness, and the two fathers attention was focused on
their usual game of shogi. A rare stroke of good
fortune!
Gently picking up Akane’s unconscious body, he nodded
to Ken. “Takuki-san, please wait here. I’ll be back
in a few minutes.” After receiving a nod from the
peace officer, Ranma readied himself. Now he would
have to depend on his speed and hope for the best.
Taking a deep breath, Ranma darted rapidly, yet
soundlessly through the open entrance, past the
kitchen, past the two older men, and leapt up the
stairs in a single jump. Snapping a quick look into
the second floor hallway, Ranma was glad to see no one
in view. He stealthily made his way to Akane’s door
and opened it. Slipping inside, he gently closed the
door; thanks to his intimate knowledge of her room, he
could successfully navigate it in the dark.
The young martial artist laid down his burden and
turned to go, feeling that he had stretched his luck
as far as he dared. Ranma didn’t want to think about
what Akane would’ve done if she had suddenly regained
consciousness during his sprint down stairs. Before
leaving her room, he paused and looked at her.
Throughout the entire Jusendo escapade to the failed
wedding, Ranma’s feelings and emotions concerning a
certain uncute tomboy had gone through several major
upheavals. He had been pretty certain that he loved
Akane; his reaction to her apparent death had shown
him the truth. Truth to tell, he’d been willing to
get married to her if she was willing to get married
to him.
Unfortunately, she’d seen fit to place all the blame
on him for the wrecking of the wedding; she’d jumped
to conclusions and believed that he had setup the
whole thing with Nabiki’s help. That was when their
relationship took a turn for the worst. With her
stubbornness, anger, and hate driving her, Akane’s
attitude eventually regressed to the point where it
mirrored that of the early days when she and Ranma
were little more than strangers. Basically, she
didn’t trust him at all and seemed to eagerly seize
any chance, however minor, to hit him. His
unprofessed love for her had taken an incredible
beating, perhaps never to recover fully again. Not
that Akane gave it a chance to revive, that is.
It seemed that her attitude became worse every day.
Now, Ranma was determined to put a stop to it before
it was too late. He’d been through hell, practically,
heck, he’d even KILLED FOR HER and she didn’t even
seem to take that into consideration.
Shaking his head, Ranma took one last glance at his
fiancee’s face and quietly said, “I’m sorry about
this, Akane, but you’re blaming me for something I had
no part in. I wish the situation could be different,
but it’s not. The fact is I won’t follow the same
rules that you’re used to me going by. Good night,
and I hope you realize that before you get hurt.”
Ranma doubted that Akane would come to her senses
about the truth of his “wedding plot” and dubbed it
‘wishful thinking’ if she would. He quietly slipped
out of her room, silently closed the door, and made
his way down the stairs.
He walked towards the front porch, trying to look
casual. Unfortunately he was no actor. If anyone had
been paying sufficient attention, they definitely
would’ve noticed it. But luckily Kasumi remained busy
in the kitchen and Genma and Soun were still deeply
engaged in their game. It had been a clean,
successful operation.
Ken was patiently waiting for him outside. Ranma
nodded towards the open gate and the two of them
headed there. Once out of hearing range of anyone in
the Tendo house (hey, can’t be too careful), Ranma
began, “Takuki-san, thanks a lot for walking with me
from the park. You just saved me a lot of trouble
with my fiancee.”
The peace officer cocked his head to the left and
said, “Saving you trouble? What are you talking
about? I was just doing my duty; it was a simple
case. She came at me with harmful intent and I warned
her about the lawful consequences.”
“I see,” Ranma said, managing a straight face. He
knew Ken was not stating the real reason why, but it
didn’t matter to him.
“Well, anyways, at least I didn’t have an entirely
boring night. I want to ask you a question that just
occurred to me. Aren’t you an extraordinarily skilled
martial artist?”
Ranma beamed at the praise. “Of course! From what
I’ve seen, I’m the best martial artist of my
generation!” Every now and then, his ego had to come
out for some serious stroking.
“Then please explain to me why do you allow a
considerably lesser skilled person like Akane to smack
you around like you were some sort of rag doll?”
At first, the teenager was reluctant to answer.
Then he sighed wearily, as a heavy burden was placed
on his shoulders. “It’s a long story, a very long
story which you probably wouldn’t believe, and I’m not
really sure how I should tell it.”
Ken scrutinized him with an experienced eye. He had a
general idea of what happened in Ranma’s everyday life
and he knew that the younger boy rarely had a moment
of peace. Ken had seen him fight other highly skilled
martial artists. Being a martial arts practitioner
himself, he knew he was simply outclassed when it came
to Ranma and his ilk. Despite the amount of property
damage done, Ken was sharp enough to realize that
there was no real need to try and apprehend the
martial artists. For one, it was rare that innocent
bystanders got hurt, and two, a person would have to
be suicidal to get between a pair of almost
superhumaningly strong combatants. Takuki was devoted
to his job, but he preferred to avoid the emergency
room if possible.
The peace officer had come to know Ranma pretty well,
enough to know that it was near impossible for the
teenager to lie. From what Ken had observed, it
seemed to go against Ranma’s nature to even try and do
so. As Ken studied Ranma’s eyes, he detected no trace
of falsehood; from what he saw in there, it seemed
that Ranma was finally trying to come to grips with
his life. His eyes spoke of an age-old weariness, of
inner pain, bitterness, and torment, and of anger.
But Ken had also seen great determination and
unshakable resolve. It gave him hope for this young
man whom life had stacked all the cards against.
Ken nodded to him. “Okay, but remember, if you ever
have to talk to anyone, you know where to find me.
I’ll be willing to lend an open ear and maybe some
advice.”
Never had Ranma been given such an offer that was
completely free of price tags or conditions. It was,
simply put, a foreign concept for him that it was all
he could do just to nod dumbly in response.
Barely suppressing an amused grin at Ranma’s slack
jawed expression, Ken patted him on the back and
started off down the street. “Till next time, Ranma,”
he called over his shoulder.
Ranma automatically bowed and said, “See you later,
Takuki-san.” As he watched the older man’s figure
grow smaller, he couldn’t help but wonder about
something that had been bothering him for a while.
Could it be Ken Takuki was a true…friend to him?
Was it even possible? If it was, then it was a
novelty for him.
He sighed. Yet another thing to think about, he
decided, and turned to walk inside.
Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
/***************************************/
Early the next morning, a lone individual was at the
park, wearing only long, black silk pants and he was
barefoot.
Although he’d not experienced a nightmare the night
before, which was rare, Ranma had a lot on his mind.
He still had yet to come to peace with Saffron’s
death; in addition to that, he was just embarking on a
journey of self improvement. There were many things
to focus on, and the turmoil of guilt on his soul
didn’t make it any easier.
To help, he was practicing the art of Tai Chi. The
cool wind rustled through his air; the short, cut
grass crinkled under his bare feet; the morning sun
warmed him pleasantly.
Ranma Saotome felt alive this particular morning.
Breathing in and out smoothly and regularly, the youth
considered the routine he was about to do. It was
simplistic and easy; it was also ideal for Ranma to
help dissolve several days worth of stress.
Around nine years ago, Genma had brought Ranma to a
JDSF military base in Hiroshima. Ranma’s father had
heard that there were several men there who were also
skilled martial artists and wanted to see if they
could give him a good match. After Genma easily
defeated local self defense instructor, he’d been
asked by the commanding officer if he wouldn’t mind
staying for a few days and show his men a thing or
two.
Of course, Genma being Genma, master of opportunism
that he was, immediately agreed to it. The two
Saotomes were given a room to stay and were allowed to
eat with the rest of the soldiers in the mess hall.
The next couple of days passed by with Genma teaching
the soldiers, sparring (and learning) with those
skilled martial artists, and enjoying the free board
and room in the meanwhile. With much free time on his
hands, Ranma had taken to wandering around the base,
seeing everything with an enthusiam only a eight year
old could possess.
Ranma had met an American military officer he dimly
remembered as “Hoser-san” during the two weeks he and
his father were there. With Genma busy most of the
time, the youngster took an immediate liking to
Hoser-san, and, in the following days, spent a good
amount of time with him. Eventually, the odd pair
began sharing; Hoser-san had shown Ranma some of the
Tai Chi Chuan he knew and in return, the boy
demonstrated some of the basic tenets of Anything
Goes.
Fortunately, Genma had been sleeping off the effects
of some booze he had purloined somewhere the night
before, else he would frothing mad at his son
revealing his family’s art, to a gaijin, no less!
The tranquility in movement and relaxation of the mind
inherent in Tai Chi helped by easing his tension. He
only focused on the practice itself; having earlier
sorted and prioritized amongst the various issues he
was facing. In doing that, he had come to see that by
dealing with the smaller, immediate issues, the
difficulty in facing the larger ones lying in the
background would be greatly decreased.
The realization did much to encourage him; for in
truth, at times, Ranma had felt that he was going up
against an almost impossible goal. But it wasn’t in
him to quit so easily, even if the odds were against
him one hundred percent. No, he would go through this
with all of his strength, skill, and every ounce of
willpower he had. He meant for today to be a very
important and meaningful milestone in his quest for
betterment of self. Ranma took the events of last
night to be a positive sign; everything had turned out
to be more successful than he had thought.
Today would be a day of changes and surprises, for
everyone, for him. He’d already gotten a good start
by waking up earlier than even Kasumi usually did. He
imagined Genma’s reaction, with a good amount of
amusement, when his son would not be present for their
daily morning spar. And how would Akane behave like
today after those multiple shocks to the system the
day before?
As Ranma finished the closing form, he looked directly
ahead, closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts.
When he was done, Ranma slowly opened his eyes and
went to collect his shirt and slippers.
It was time.
/***************************************/
7:15 am.
The students who were usually among the first ones to
arrive at Furinkan High were startled to see someone
who was usually late. It caused them to do several
double takes in order to verify to see if they
identified the person correctly at first sight.
They had. It was, without a doubt, the foremost
trouble-making student ever to set foot in Furinkan
High School, Mr. Chaos Endowed himself, Ranma Saotome.
He was wearing his usual outfit; red Chinese silk
shirt with sleeves rolled up, black silk pants, and
black slippers. However, if the martial artist was
aware of the glances, he didn’t show it. In fact, he
leaned backwards against the Furinkan front gate,
staring down at the ground with arms crossed over his
chest. There was a subtle, yet definite
I-don’t-want-to-be-bothered air about him that
discouraged anyone from approaching too close. Even
his friends Hiroshi and Daisuke received the message
and kept their distance. But as friends should be,
they were a little concerned about his unusual
behavior and stayed within hearing range.
If a poll had been taken right there, it would have
been shown that a good number of the students had a
feeling that something…different was going to happen
today. And the more perceptive ones would’ve quickly
intuited that Ranma would be the cause for it.
With all the speculation going on, Nabiki walked
intently towards her sister’s fiancee. People noticed
her mood and quickly made way for her, towards her
sister’s fiancee. Nabiki wanted answers now. Earlier
in the morning, Akane had utterly refused to exit her
room, claiming that she was feeling sick and had a
headache. This revelation had Soun going full blast
with his tearing routine and nearly snapped the phone
cord as he frantically dialed Dr. Tofu for advice.
Kasumi, rolling her eyes at her father’s ridiculous
antics, went up to see Akane.
Besides Akane being suddenly sick, the other odd thing
to happen in the morning was that Ranma turned up
missing. Genma said that when he woke up, he had
discovered his son’s absence, but he didn’t know where
he had gone.
Immediately, Nabiki’s well oiled mind started running.
There was an obvious connection between Akane getting
sick and Ranma’s absence. She was worried about Akane
and wanted to find out what Ranma knew, no matter if
he was the cause or not. However, Nabiki did not have
enough time to question Akane, as Kasumi was already
there. Reluctantly, she had eaten, showered, and left
for school.
Now, the Ice Queen of Furinkan strode towards Ranma’s
solitary figure in her best no-nonsense mode. When
she was this way, hardly anyone had refused any
request that she had asked of them. Perceptive as she
was, Nabiki immediately picked up on his quiet and
serious demeanor. ‘I bet it’ll take me less than
thirty seconds to crack through that,” she thought,
smirking.
Stopping to just two feet away from her quarry, Nabiki
cleared her throat to get Ranma’s attention.
There was no response.
She cleared it again, louder this time. ‘Strange,
he’s usually aware of his surroundings. He’ll
probably come out of whatever weird martial arts
meditation he’s in and jump ten feet in the air and
say something like “Nabiki, where’d you come from?’.
She was proved wrong. There wasn’t even a twitch from
the martial artist, not a single acknowledgement of
her presence. He might have been carved out of rock.
Nabiki wasn’t exactly flustered, but now she was
getting a bit annoyed. Ranma had never ignored her
successfully for this long before. Time to resort to
audio. “Ranma,” she snapped in a sharp, accusing tone
that emphatically demanded an immediate, direct
answer, “do you know why Akane was sick this morning?”
Her sister’s fiancee was as cooperative as a statue.
When a couple of seconds passed, and he still hadn’t
answered, the older girl was about to step up to the
next level of interrogation. But before she could do
so, Ranma unexpectedly broke his silence.
Still gazing down at the ground, Ranma replied calmly,
“She’s not sick, Nabiki.”
The Ice Queen considered a moment before replying; the
words were consistent with Ranma’s behavior pattern,
i.e. he was already denying early in the conversation,
but his tone wasn’t. Instead of being indignant and
defensive, Ranma was the total opposite; cool and
collected. Something wrong with this picture and
Nabiki had to find out what it was.
Taking her time to respond to that outrageous claim,
Nabiki affected a disbelieving air. “Not sick? So
why is it that she’s not coming to school today and
Kasumi is nursing her in her room?”
“She just thinks she’s sick.”
“You will forgive me if I don’t buy that line,
Saotome,” she commented sarcastically, “and I know
that you are responsible for her current condition. I
don’t care how, why, or what. All I care about is
that you’d better give me a good answer, one that I
like.” She didn’t say ‘or else’, but she knew Ranma
knew she implied it.
Nabiki was surprised when she heard his answer.
“Well, hearing it from you, Akane sounds really sick.
You know, instead of asking me all these questions,
you could be taking her to the hospital.”
The middle Tendo sister narrowed her eyes, her mind
racing. This was not good; Ranma was unexpectedly
giving her a successful runabout, and the longer he
did that the more her control of the conversation
deteriorated. She couldn’t figure it out, but Ranma
was definitely not himself today, for lack of a better
term. In fact, Nabiki could swear that it seemed that
the martial artist was thinking before speaking. She
had thought it unlikely, perhaps even impossible, but
she suspected that Ranma was deliberately trying to
annoy her. One thing was certain; this wasn’t normal
behavior for him.
Maintaining her cool demeanor while encountering an
unpredictable Ranma took some effort, but she managed
it. Mentally switching gears, she admitted, “Okay,
it’s not that serious. I’m just concerned about her;
I mean, Akane’s never been sick in the morning. I
just want to know what happened to her. I have a very
good feeling that you’re involved somehow; Uncle Genma
woke up this morning to find you gone. You weren’t
anywhere in the house. Why is that, hmmm? You have
to say that it looks very suspicious, on your part.”
Nabiki was certain she had Ranma where she wanted him.
Now she felt confident that his façade would crack
wide open and he would start babbling out denials.
However, with such expectations, Nabiki nearly
facefaulted as Ranma did the last thing she expected;
he started chuckling and for no apparent reason that
she could see.
Raising her eyebrows in confusion, the Ice Queen
wondered what on Earth was Ranma’s game today. She
didn’t like it; she preferred a more controllable,
predictable Ranma than the one she was currently
trying to fathom, without much success.
What the hell was going on here? Did she suddenly
step into the Twilight Zone or something?
Ignoring the startled looks from the other students,
she regained enough of her composure to ask him in an
irritated tone, “What’s so funny, Ranma?” The Ice
Queen found the thought of her somehow missing
something that Ranma had caught onto very disturbing.
If anything else, Nabiki hated being left in the dark.
Winding down on his brief spurt of mild laughter,
Ranma finally looked up and for the first time, she
saw his expression clearly. As their eyes met, upon
seeing the sudden intensity and incredible
determination of his stare, Nabiki inwardly flinched.
But her pride didn’t allow her to look away. Hell,
with so many witnesses around, she had a reputation to
protect, dammit, and her backing down from Ranma would
seriously undermine, if not destroy, it.
So she squared her shoulders and met his gaze head on.
Ranma was the first to speak. In a clear, crisp
condescending tone he said “You don’t get it, do you,
Nabiki? Hell, I don’t think anyone gets it. But I
thought if anyone would get it, it’d be you. But,
unfortunately, you see, you’re part of it as well.
It’s hard to see something for what it really is when
you’re inside.”
“It? What are you talking about Ranma? You’re not
making any sense.” Nabiki didn’t show it, but she was
getting more irritated by the moment.
Continuing as if she hadn’t spoken, Ranma firmly
stated, “I find it funny how Akane became sick. I
find it funny how everyone reacts when she became
sick. I find it funny how everyone automatically
assumes that it’s my fault that she’s sick.” His
voice hardened, turning bitter and angry, as if long
dormant emotions were breaking through. But, aware
that he was losing control, Ranma paused a moment. He
forced the majority of his emotions into a dark hole
somewhere and sealed it tight.
He continued in a more restrained manner, “I find it
funny that for the longest time, I was surrounded, and
still am in some instances, by block headed idiots
like my father, Kunou, Mousse, Ryouga, Kodachi, and
Shampoo! I find it funny that they piled all their
garbage, all their troubles, all their fantasies and
dreams right onto my lap. MY LAP!!” he emphasized in
a louder voice. “As if I don’t have enough problems
with my curse, with cats, with fiancees popping out of
the woodwork,” he spat, saying the word as if it were
a curse.
Now speaking with more heat and passion, but still
held for the most part in check, Ranma continued, “I
didn’t ask for any of this, hell, I didn’t ask to be
engaged to anyone! Not to Ukyou, not to Akane, not to
Shampoo! Although I’ll admit I do share a little of
the fault in both Ukyou and Shampoo’s case, I sure as
hell didn’t have anything to do with my engagement to
that tomboy! And she’s the one who hits me the most
times with that damned mallet of hers every time she
gets angry!” At this point, Nabiki could read in his
face that despite his control, his emotions were
struggling to resurface.
“Fine, I’ll tell you want you so desperately want to
know! You want the reason behind your little sister’s
so called sickness? It’s like what I told you; Akane
isn’t sick. She’s in shock, fully and completely.
The reason why is because she experienced something
that totally defied her expectations and she wasn’t
able to bear it. That’s what’s wrong with her.”
“I’ve got a feeling that I’ll be saying this a lot
during the next couple of days. I guess this means
you’re going to be the first to hear it: I’ve had
enough, do you hear me?”
Nabiki was about to ask another question, but Ranma
overrode her. He wasn’t planning on stopping for
anything. Hell, even if the Prime Minister himself
was present, Ranma was going to speak his mind without
a trace of doubt.
“I’m tired of being treated like I’m some sort of
prize to be won; an object to use and abuse, as anyone
sees fit; or someone to be blamed for his or her
problems. I’m tired of people running my life and
making major decisions on my behalf without my say so.
I’ve had enough of all of IT. So, as of today, I’m
drawing the line right HERE, right NOW, and anyone who
crosses it, God help me, they will live to regret it a
hundred times over. I won’t tolerate bullshit that
anyone, whoever they may be, thinks he or she can push
onto me.”
Ranma didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to,
for his point had been made, clear as a bell. Whether
people understood it or not was their problem, he
figured. He would be happy to ‘help clear’ things up
for them. By what he saw, Nabiki had been temporarily
struck dumb by his declaration and was now staring at
him as if he suddenly grew another head.
Despite her reaction, Ranma knew that she would soon
recover from her shock. He also knew, without a
doubt, that she would soon try and squeeze an
advantage from it for her.
‘Let her react; Let her think; let her study. Let her
try to make a profit out of this. If I know her at
all, I bet she’ll come to think that she can use this
to try and twist me to her own uses. Just let her
try. I’ll be ready.’
Although some seventy students were around them,
though at a respectful distance, all had heard him.
They’d kept their peace, witnessing one of the most
unusual dramas they had ever seen in all their time of
knowing Ranma Saotome.
And now, as Ranma looked over Nabiki’s right shoulder,
he saw one of them, a certain individual, who
coincidentally fit into his ‘master plan’.
The cursed teen grinned, and it wasn’t a nice one.
Rather, it reminded some of the onlookers of a hungry
lion on the hunt.
It was going exactly as he had thought it would.
Cocking his head to the left, he regarded Nabiki for a
second, “S’cuse me, Nabs, but there’s someone I gotta
catch. Later.”
With that, he simply walked past her as if she didn’t
exist.
/***************************************/
Tatewaki Kunou was presently daydreaming about his
Pig-tailed Goddess. With his ever present bokken in
its sheath, he ignored the rest of his fellow students
as he neared Furinkan High’s gate. Deep down inside,
he carried a small amount of guilt that a scion of the
noble House of Kunou would debase himself to
entertaining such delusional fantasies, but he could
not help himself. For him, she was the epitome of
feminine beauty, the perfection of womanly charms.
From the first time he had well, come into contact
with her, Tatewaki had been hopelessly smitten.
Since then, he had taken it on as his personal quest
to endeavor in winning her love. However, as a
ancient wise man had once said, the course of true
love never did run smooth. Countless were the times
he had thrown himself into her passionate embrace,
only to be rebuffed, many times. It was true that
there were only a few instances when Tatewaki and the
Pig-tailed Goddess had spent precious time together,
but he was absolutely sure that her heart belonged to
him and no other.
He was positive, and had evidence to prove his claim,
that whenever the fair maiden had rejected his
gentlemanly gestures of affection, she did so while
under the twisted spell of his none other than his
arch rival, Ranma Saotome.
Further contemplation of the subject was rudely
interrupted by an irritatingly familiar voice coming
from his right.
“Kunou.”
If Tatewaki had been more grounded in reality, he
would have described the voice akin to a razor sharp
katana being unsheathed. If he’d been more
perceptive, he would’ve surely sensed the potential
threat behind that voice posed an extreme danger for
him. Somewhere in an often ignored portion of his
mind, a very small voice that tried valiantly to serve
as his common sense screamed at him that an immediate
tactical withdrawal was wise. Like every other time,
Kunou ignored it with ease.
“State your business, Saotome. I do not wish to waste
my morning in idle gossip with you.”
“I challenge you to combat. Right now, at the track
and field. You win; I release the Pig-tailed Goddess
and Akane Tendo from my spell over them and I swear I
won’t ever involve myself in your dealings with them.
I win; you swear never to touch the Pig Tailed Goddess
ever again or to attack me without first giving an
official challenge.”
Kuno sniffed contemptously, “You do not have suitable
cause to subject a son of the noble Kunou house to
such proposals. Fiend, retract thy statement else
taste the wrath of Tatewaki Kunou, the esteemed Blue
Thunder of Furinkan High!”
Ranma shrugged, completely ignoring the taller boy’s
suggestion. “Nope. Agree to my terms or else you’ll
be known as the Yellow Coward of Furinkan High.
Everyone,” he waved his hand towards their audience,
“is waiting to hear your reply, Kunou. Which will it
be!?”
/***************************************/
As Ranma’s challenge rang throughout the air, Nabiki
finally regained her senses and blinked her eyes. She
was startled when she saw that Ranma wasn’t in front
of her anymore. That was soon remedied when she heard
him speaking in such firm and emphatic tones which
Nabiki had never heard from him before.
Turning around, she automatically motioned to her
assistants to approach and at the same time, got a
handle on what was going on. Ranma was full of
surprises today, and Nabiki had the feeling that he
was just beginning.
Now that she had a moment to think things over, she
felt…, actually she didn’t know how she felt. Well,
at least she knew that she was confused. Oh yes, and
she was still feeling angry from Ranma’s casual
dismissal of her. Another day she would have taken
harsher retribution against Ranma for being so
cavalier in dealing with her, but today proved to be
an exception. She wasn’t just angry and annoyed; her
interest was greatly aroused, as well as her
curiosity. Questions were rampaging through her mind,
and more were being added as she gazed appreciatively
upon the muscular form of Ranma as he challenged
Kunou.
‘Why was Ranma doing this? Who put him up to it? Did
he plan this by himself? Is this somehow responsible
for Akane being sick? Does daddy and Uncle Genma know
of this?’
Unfortunately, the source of those answers to those
questions was otherwise occupied at the moment, and
Nabiki knew that it wasn’t a good idea to interrupt an
official challenge. She’d have to settle and question
Ranma later. One thing she instinctively knew,
however, was that the week was going to be very
interesting.
/***************************************/
Silence prevailed.
A hush fell over the gathered group of students as
they awaited a response. This was a first. Usually,
it was the older boy who initiated the challenge, but
today it was the reverse. Which wasn’t the least
normal, but then again, anything involving Ranma
wasn’t for that matter.
Tatewaki Kunou’s face was a study in pure,
unadulterated wrath as he fought to compose himself
and also to draw his bokken and cut down the nefarious
Saotome where he stood. As much as it nettled him, he
was forced to admit that the fiend had made an
official and, unfortunately, legible challenge. And
in order to protect his honor and not lose face in
front of the student body, Tatewaki had only one
choice he could make.
Standing straight and tall, the kendoka raised his
wooden blade and pointed it directly at his rival. At
last in control of his anger, he said but two words.
“Challenge accepted.”
“And the terms?” Ranma wasn’t taking any chances. He
wanted to absolutely make sure that Kunou knew what he
was getting into. The pigtailed boy had counted on
the rest of the students for serving as invaluable eye
witnesses.
Gritting his teeth, Tatewaki quickly considered the
terms. He would have liked to raise some protest, but
as he went over them, he saw that he stood to gain a
lot, should he emerge victorious. And even should he
lose, he would still have the voluptuous Akane Tendo
to pursue with all his heart. It would be a shame to
lose the lovely attentions of the Pig-Tailed Goddess
though.
Grudgingly, he nodded his acceptance, however
reluctant, of the fiend’s terms and sheathed his
bokken. “Shall we proceed to yon battlefield, rival
mine?”
With an inscrutable expression, Ranma replied with
unusual equanimity, “Sure.”
/***************************************/
Ten minutes later, at Furinkan’s track and field, the
two rivals stood ten feet from each other, ready to
commence the challenge.
Ranma was completely calm, as well as silent. This
struck his fellow students as very strange; usually
Ranma would be hurling insults at his foe or boasting
of his own prowess. The ‘Wild Horse’ had his reasons
for not doing so; he wasn’t telling, though.
Although many students had gone to their beginning
morning classes, a good number had remained to watch
the fight. True to form, Nabiki and her subordinates
were working the crowd, taking bets. Since it was
proven to be a fact that Kunou would never win a fight
against Ranma, the shrewd middle Tendo sister decided
to capitalize on something else. Thus, she started
the bets going on how many minutes would it take Ranma
to beat Tatewaki.
After the last bets had been taken, a dead silence
fell upon the spectators. No one moved a muscle,
seemingly not wanting to distract either fighter.
Tatewaki Kunou placed his right foot forward and set
back his left foot with the heel slightly raised. In
one swift motion, he drew his bokken and leveled it
above his head and across his shoulder. With that
done, he bellowed a battle cry and darted forward.
Ranma saw him coming and dropped into a loose side bow
stance. His face showed almost no emotions at all,
beyond a calm readiness.
“The vengeance of heaven is slow but sure!” cried
Tatewaki as he began closing the distance between
them.
A distant part of Ranma’s brain wondered exactly where
Kunou found the extra air to shout like that while
running. The rest of him focused on the approaching
battle. That portion told Ranma not to hold back as
much, because for this part of his plan to be
successful, he had to unleash at least some of his
true strength.
When he got within striking range, the kendoka shifted
his wooden blade to the right and abruptly slashed
across, aiming for Ranma’s chest. Not surprisingly,
the pigtailed martial artist simply leapt over the
slash.
In midair, Ranma gritted his teeth in silent annoyance
at Kunou’s tirade. Employing his mastery of Anything
Goes, he twisted his body to the side and kicked his
opponent squarely in the jaw. Momentarily stunned,
Tatewaki staggered backwards a step. Upon landing,
Ranma immediately dropped into a crouch and did a
footsweep, knocking the kendoka’s legs out from under
him.
Although stunned from the kick to the jaw, Tatewaki,
through sheer willpower, forced away the pain and
controlled his fall, guiding it into a backroll.
Coming quickly into a crouch, the older boy lashed out
twice in wide arcs to discourage any further attacks
and also to buy him some time to come up with a
possible tactic to use against his foe.
It didn’t work.
Waiting until the second slash was halfway completed,
Ranma moved like the wind, for once utilizing his full
speed. He blurred forward and appeared only a foot
away from Tatewaki. Before the startled older boy
could react, the Anything Goes practitioner was
already attacking.
The other students winced in sympathy as they saw a
completely one sided fight as Ranma simply beat down
Kunou relentlessly. They were shocked and more than a
little scared by the way he was fighting. The
pigtailed boy wasn’t throwing insults, fighting near
his opponent’s level, or following his usual tactics.
Instead, they saw a harder, serious, and intensely
focused stranger in his place.
A quick left hand chop struck at a single pressure
point on Kunou’s wrist, forcing him to drop his
weapon. In lightning quick motions that were all but
invisible, Ranma threw two consecutive right jabs,
followed up by a left straight to the chin, barely
holding back. Weaponless and hurting from the
combination, Kunou was wide open to the triple blow
follow up; a savage roundhouse to the rear of the jaw,
a left hook to the temple, and a right uppercut. His
head was knocked back, and when it resumed its normal
position, Ranma wasn’t surprised to see that Kunou was
still conscious.
He unleashed a left uppercut, this time bending his
upper body lower, thus springing up with greater
force. Once again, Kunou’s head snapped back and
Ranma relentlessly continued the assault. With a loud
kiai, he stomped forward with his right foot, and
worked his fists into a blur, striking the Blue
Thunder eight times on his body. Although not at
Amaguriken speed, the eyes of the other students only
caught the barest of flickers of motion. Two punches
for the chest, the solar plexus, the stomach, and the
abdomen. Incredibly, despite the blows, Tatewaki
managed to stand, though he was unsteady, staggering
off balance, and was blinded by the pain for the
moment.
Ranma let him sway for a moment and backed up half a
step. With another loud kiai, he lashed out with
strong, yet lightning quick palm strike to Kunou’s
chest. The force behind the blow lifted the hapless
Blue Thunder off his feet and sent him flying
backwards to land heavily several feet away.
`
When Tatewaki didn’t immediately get up, Ranma nodded
in grim satisfaction. He went, picked up the dropped
bokken, and began purposely walking towards the
slightly moving figure.
Upon reaching him, he saw that the Blue Thunder was
curled up and alternating between coughing and gasping
in big breaths of air. He stopped and stood a foot
away from him. Despite his outward calmness, some of
the tension had built up from his ‘talk’ with Nabiki.
Now, on the eve of the first step in truly making a
difference in his own life, Ranma dispelled that
tension and hardened himself. He was still adamant
about settling things with Kunou.
After a minute, Tatewaki was able to regain his
equilibrium and had recovered his normal breathing
rate. Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was
the figure of his most hated adversary. Automatically
he tried to climb back to his feet, only to realize
that the cursed Saotome had stolen his bokken and was
pointing it at his throat. Wooden or not, the point
was still sharp enough to poke a hole in his throat
should Ranma was of a mind to, with sufficient force
behind it, of course.
Most of the Kunou family had, to a certain degree, a
remarkably deluded mind, but fortunately for Tatewaki,
he wasn’t as misguided as his sister or his father.
To be sure, he was still delusional, had a remarkably
quick recovery from injury, and was incredibly
stubborn as well. He was all these things, but
surprisingly he was not a complete idiot. Kunou knew
that he was in a hopeless position, and he had no room
to maneuver. So it was that brimming with self
righteous indignation, humiliation, and fury, Tatewaki
leaned back on his elbows, glaring at Ranma all the
while.
“Fool, you dare tempt my ire by thinking to threaten
me by my own weapon? Do you not know the danger of
do-urrk!”
The Blue Thunder of Furinkan High suddenly found out
that it was difficult to talk normally when the tip of
a sharp, pointed object, a bokken in this case, dug
painfully into his throat.
“Shut up, sempai.” That last word was spoken with a
grim sarcasm. “I am going to say some things that I
want you to hear, and you’re not gonna interrupt me.
Because if you do, I’m gonna keep poking this wooden
stick here in your throat. The more you interrupt me,
the more deeper I’ll poke. Capeesh?”
“Foul enemy of wom-urrrg!” As always, Kunou was a
slow learner to certain things.
“Will you be quiet; or will you force me to rip you a
new one?”
“I, the Blue Thund-urrrk! Auurrgh!” True to his
word, Ranma pushed the bokken a little bit deeper; as
it was, Kunou couldn’t speak a word without gagging
first. He could barely breathe at this point without
adding to the pain. It galled him. But he realized
that he had no choice in the matter. And that galled
him even more.
For once in all the time Saotome was his rival, Kunou
was forced to accept his utter defenseless postion and
to submit to the hated underclassman. He was
delusional, not suicidal. The Blue Thunder clearly
heard the uncompromising tone in Ranma’s voice; saw a
glint of hardened, cold determination in his eyes.
Tatewaki was suddenly doubtful that his rival’s threat
about ‘ripping him a new one’ was a mere jest. It
seemed to him that Saotome was deadly serious, and a
chill swept over him.
Satisfied that Kunou would hold his peace at least for
the moment, Ranma eased back on the bokken. Already
his sharp eyes could detect the beginnings of a bruise
on the Blue Thunder’s neck, but he ignored it. With
his blood still running hot from the excitement of the
fight, Ranma had to force himself to calm down in
order to properly finish this business.
"I win,” he stated loudly, finally, “and you’ll uphold
your end of the terms. No arguments, no complaints.
Agree as an honorable man would.”
There was no immediate reply. Ranma could tell the
reason just by looking in Tatewaki’s eyes that there
was great conflict. Principle Kunou’s eldest was
stuck between the mighty titans of pride and honor.
Before, they worked hand in hand for Tatewaki, even at
times he’d ignore one and focused on the other. But
now, Ranma had cleverly manipulated circumstances so
that there would be unfortunate consequences should
Tatewaki decide to do that now.
“I know not what is your objective, Saotome, but-“
“But nothing. And stop trying to stall or change the
subject. Will you uphold the agreement we made
regarding the terms or will you not?”
When Tatewaki still made no reply, Ranma added,
“Everyone’s waiting to hear what you have to say,
upperclassman.” Which was a subtle reminder that
Kunou would lose face, big time, should he choose to
go back on his word and honor.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the Blue Thunder
averted his gaze from Ranma and his demeanor became
aloof and detached. Then, in a harsh, grating sort of
way, he began speaking.
“I, Tatewaki Kunou, do hereby accept,” saying the word
‘accept’ as if it left a foul taste in his mouth, “my
defeat in single, honorable combat against Ranma
Saotome. Furthermore, I will accede to the following
conditions proposed prior to said combat; I, with all
witnesses present, swear never to harry or express my
love in regards to the Pig-tailed Goddess.
Additionally, I also swear I shall not assault Ranma
Saotome without first conveying an official challenge.
Thus I swear all these things effective, on the honor
of the noble House of Kunou, as of today!”
Though he didn’t show it, Ranma let out a mental sigh
of relief. Surprisingly, he did not feel elation to
any great extent, though he was pleased that it had
worked out as well as it had. The young Saotome had
thought that Kunou would be much more resistant than
this, but as it was, he gave silent thanks above.
Maybe he’d underestimated Kunou’s sense of honor and
fair play. Or maybe it was that he had controlled the
whole affair to work to his advantage all the way.
Whichever it was, it was the results that mattered the
most.
“Okay then, that’s it. Till our next official
challenge, Upperclassman Kunou.”
Ranma shifted the bokken to his left hand and offered
the other to the Blue Thunder. At first, he thought
that Kunou wouldn’t accept it, but he was mistaken.
Hesitantly, with great reluctance, Tatewaki lifted his
hand and took it. Pulling the kendoka up effortlessly
in one smooth motion, Ranma regarded his rival. He
was both surprised and impressed; if their positions
were reversed, Ranma wasn’t certain he would be able
to sufficiently let go of his pride enough to accept
the gesture.
One thing was clear to him; behind the visage of a
bokken wielding, pseudo Shakespeare and samurai
enthusiast, Tatewaki Kunou possessed unexplored and
unknown depths to his character.
Even to himself.
/***************************************/
A couple of feet away, amidst the group of students
who had watched the entire fight, Nabiki stood with
her subordinates. Now as she saw Ranma helping
Tatewaki up, her ‘shock meter’, already cracked in
some places, shattered totally.
However, she was made of firmer stuff than her younger
sister. She did not faint nor did she mentally blank
out for an hour or more. However, it was safe to say
that later on she would require time to fully
assimilate what she’d experienced.
“Now that’s something you don’t see everyday,” she
muttered, summing up how everyone felt at the moment.
/***************************************/
Throughout the rest of the day, the news about the
morning fight sped throughout Furinkan like wildfire.
Although Ranma beating Kunou wasn’t anything new, it
was how he did it that provoked sufficient interest to
be inducted into the rumor grill. Never had anyone
seen Ranma attain victory through use of force; and it
wasn’t just a victory, it was an overwhelming
revolutionary turn of events that promised to change
everyone’s view of the pigtailed martial artist. Not
only that, but also the way how Ranma stood up to
Nabiki earlier provided extra ammunition for such a
promise.
Many who had heard the second set of news were in
shock. To nearly the entire school, the idea of
standing up and telling off the infamous Ice Queen was
completely foreign. Everyone wanted their reputation
and social standing to remain preserved; none liked
the thought of their secrets being paraded in
Furinkan’s halls on display for all to see. After
all, who did?
Many a student took a perverse pleasure that since
there were many firsthand eye witnesses during the
confrontations with Nabiki and Tatewaki apiece, the
Ice Queen couldn’t charge a cent for details.
However, it seemed that Nabiki was affected by that
scene with Ranma. Her subordinates received her
silent message that she wanted to be left alone. No
one else dared or wanted to approach her.
Virtually tons of speculation, wild guesses, and their
ilk ran amok throughout the grapevine. Heads turned,
furtive glances taken, and hushed whispering started
wherever Ranma went. Staunchly, he ignored it and
continued on with his day. At the same time, he gave
off an aura that matched Nabiki’s in effect. Hiroshi
and Daisuke, being his closest friends in Furinkan,
stayed close but kept silent. Although they should’ve
been wary of him because of the brutal way he’d forced
Kunou to heed the terms, they instinctively knew that
Ranma wasn’t a danger to them. They also suspected
that there was a lot more to come, and it was mutually
agreed between both of them that Ranma wasn’t done
yet.
“And now, students, please turn to page 45. Now as
you see Figure 3-4, the right angle is at 90 degrees,
always, without exception.” Mr. Yamato, a balding,
middle aged Math teacher was currently lecturing on
Trigonometry in homeroom 2-A. Considered by most of
the students as one of the most boring teachers in all
of Furinkan’s faculty, it took an effort just to stay
awake in class.
Ranma, Hiroshi and Daisuke had the misfortune to be
among the unlucky twenty five students in said class.
Fortunately, the three friends had seats at the back
in the same row, so they were relatively shielded from
Mr. Yamato’s near sightedness. Surprisingly, Ranma
wasn’t sleeping, but neither was he paying attention
to the lecture. It seemed to his two friends that
Ranma had withdrawn into himself; some place where he
could block out his surroundings and do some thinking.
Hiroshi and Daisuke thought it was a good thing he’d
done that. They weren’t sure of otherwise how he
might respond to the level of fear being shown of him
by their fellow classmates. It was as if everyone
else sitting around the trio were afraid that Ranma
might suddenly go berserk or something.
Such reactions coming from their classmates really
disappointed Hiroshi and Daisuke. The two boys had
thought their fellow students and friends were better
than that. Perhaps they’d overestimated them.
Thirty minutes before Trigonometry ended, both of them
were passing back and forth a single notebook that
served as their communications relay. They timed the
passing in such a way so that they didn’t get caught.
By the time, the bell rang, their ‘conversation’ was a
couple of pages long.
Hiroshi: <I don’t believe these idiots! After all
Ranma’s done for them, after all he’s been through,
they decide to turn on him like this!>
Daisuke: <Hiro, don’t be too hard on them. They’re
just afraid. They’ve never seen Ranma act like this
before and it scares them.>
Hiroshi: <Scared? Why they should be scared of him?
He hasn’t done anything to anyone who didn’t deserve
it and he’s always protected, or at least tried to,
those weaker than him.>
Daisuke: <That’s true but you gotta remember. They
don’t know Ranma like the both of us do. As a matter
of fact, probably aside from the Tendo family and
maybe Ukyou, no one knows Ranma better than us.>
Hiroshi: <Heh, damn right! Everyone thinks that we
just ‘hanging on’ to Ranma, as if we’re trying to grab
onto some of that attention for ourselves. Well I’d
admit that it was like that when we first got to know
him, do you remember those days Dai?>
Daisuke: <Do I ever! Remember that one time we were
bothering him with all sorts of idiotic questions
about whether he’d gotten Akane into the sack yet?
Remember what happened when he got so distracted by
our questioning?>
Hiroshi: <By either luck, accident, or fate Akane
batted a foul ball right into his cheek! Man, my
sides were starting to hurt from hiding all that
laughter back. And when we found about the existence
of the ‘Pig Tailed Goddess?>
Daisuke: <Geez, I forget how many times w asked him
to set us up with her! It was a wonder he didn’t lose
his patience and smack us into next week!>
Hiroshi: <Yup, those were the times. But we’re
getting off track here. Ranma’s done a lot of dumb
things, but I think he’s done even more good for the
entire school. For example, I can’t count the number
of times he’s chased Happousai out of the girl’s
locker room, or help return their stolen
unmentionables.>
Daisuke: <A very valid point. It reminds me of
something I read in a book about human nature. I
forgot the title, but it describes Ranma’s situation
rather nicely.>
Hiroshi: <Do tell.>
Daisuke: <Well, in the book, there was a short story
about a king. This king was a good and noble king,
making sure his laws were just, making his taxes
reasonable, judging cases as fair as he could, having
the welfare of his realm in mind, you know, those sort
of things. Well, after nearly twenty years of being
such an ideal king, he was found out in a scandal
involving one high-born lady of the court. And she
was married, to boot. Well, to make a long story
short, the populace, his subjects, forgot about all
the good he’d done for them in a surprisingly short
amount of time. They began to call for his
dethronement and basically turned their backs on him.
Instead of forgiving and forgetting, they started
howling for his blood and chased him out of the
kingdom. He died of heart break and depression a
short time later, a bitter and coldly indifferent man
who held little resemblance, save physically, to that
of a once great king.>
Hiroshi: <Nice. I think I see where you’re going.
It just takes one wrong act to be done in order to
transform a person into a criminal in everyone else’s
eyes. It doesn’t matter if his track record was that
of a saint, does it?>
Daisuke: <I’m afraid not, Hiro. And that is kind of
what’s happening to Ranma. Our classmates, even if
they don’t like Kunou that much, are shocked. All
this time, they’ve grown used to Ranma acting the way
he’s been acting all this time. And when out of the
blue, he does something unexpectedly like threatening
Kunou's life with his bokken (personally I thought it
was overdue), it threw them for a loop. They suddenly
started thinking if he’d lost it, and were scared of
the harm he was capable of with all the skill at his
disposal.>
Hiroshi: <You hit it right on the mark, bud.
However, I’m getting kinda tired of their stupid
behavior, human or not. Ranma’s not a saint or
anything, but he’s also done a good amount for the
school! But look at them! They’re treating Ranma as
if he had some sort of disease or something! I’ve got
half a mind to walk up and knock some sense into them,
right away.>
Daisuke: <I know how you feel. I’d like to do
something among the same lines. But hang on and don’t
do anything now, all right Hiro? Come lunchtime and
we’ll talk it over. I’m sure we can think of
something that’ll help Ranma.>
Hiroshi: <Okay Dai. But we’d better do something,
cuz I’m not sure how long our bud can last with
everyone like this. Give a few more days and it’ll
get to him. Then he’ll have a bigger problem on his
hands!>
/**************************************/
When the lunch bell rang, Hiroshi’s patience was just
about wasted. This had come about by the constant
note passing and head turning by his classmates, all
regarding Ranma. This had served to effectively annoy
and irritate Hiro, who, after only a few minutes of
watching this activity, was ready to start shouting in
all their faces to shut up and telling them off.
Thankfully, the notebook conversation managed to calm
him down sufficiently enough to hold on, as Dai had
suggested.
As everyone collected their book and bags, some took
this opportunity to take a last glance at Ranma. That
was when Hiro and Dai acted like overprotective
bodyguards. Hiro glared furiously at them, making a
great show of scowling aggressively and gritting his
teeth together. Dai simply affected a small frown, a
look of obvious disdain, and a cool, challenging look
in his eyes.
Feeling uncomfortable at being caught staring, their
classmates hastily left the room, leaving Hiro, Dai,
and Ranma, who was still in deep thought. Shaking his
head in disgust at the attitudes of some people, Hiro
stood up and went to his pigtailed friend.
“Ranma, class’s over. It’s time for lunch.” he
placed a concerned hand on Ranma’s left shoulder and
shook him gently. If his classmates had seen him do
that, they would’ve probably tried to stop him.
However, Hiroshi was firmly convinced that Ranma, no
matter what happened, would not hurt or threaten him
of his own will.
His faith was affirmed when the young martial artist
blinked once, coming out of his introspection, and
stood up. Looking around, Ranma saw that the room was
empty of people save for the three of them.
Scratching the base of his pigtail in confusion, he
asked, “Hiro, Dai, where is everyone?”
Stifling a laugh, Hiro smiled. “It’s time for lunch,
man. What say we go outside and get some fresh air or
something while we eat our bentos?”
If it was any period that Ranma liked the most in
Furinkan, it was most definitely lunch period.
Usually, he had a delicious, tasty bento cooked by
Kasumi and would sit in his favorite spot, which was
under the oak tree, with either Ukyou, Akane, or the
two boys, depending on his mood and needs at the
moment. Based on past experience, Hiro and Dai knew
that Ranma would cheer up, or feel better at the very
least, come lunch. They planned to talk to him, if he
was willing, about what happened that morning.
They were correct in one aspect, but they were wrong
in another.
As soon as Hiro said the word ‘lunch’, his mood indeed
changed. But instead of shifting from a sort of
distracted introspection, a switch seemed to flick the
other way, fueling Ranma with a sudden surge of
energy. Had Hiro and Dai been able to see Ranma’s
aura, they would’ve been surprised. It was a bluish
determination, more than matching Ranma’s usual yellow
confident aura in intensity. As it was, Hiro
reflexively took a step back, surprised at this abrupt
change. Dai looked on with amazement, and with a
little apprehension.
Ranma Saotome’s eyes were alive, radiating with pure
determination and unbreakable resolve. To his
friends, it looked as if he’d decided upon a difficult
decision that had been plaguing him for some time. It
would turn out that they were correct.
Hesitantly, Daisuke asked Ranma, “Hey Saotome, what’s
wrong?” Hiroshi mutely nodded his agreement with the
question.
Ranma just stood there. For a moment he was silent,
as if gathering his thoughts. Then he met Daisuke’s
eyes and smiled faintly.
“Nothing’s wrong, Dai. I’ve just made a difficult
decision, one that, for a long while, I’ve never
thought I could ever determine on acting upon.” He
paused for a second, then continued, “I need to go
now, even though it’ll probably mean missing the
remaining half of the day. It doesn’t matter anyway;
what I have to do is more important to my life in the
future.”
It was Hiroshi who ventured to ask the obvious
question, “Where are you going?”
Ranma’s answer was quick and offhanded. “I think I
need a long, good chat with my mother, Nodoka
Saotome.”
End Chapter 2
Author’s Notes:
Whew, a tough one to write! Thank goodness it’s done!
To the readers, sorry about the delay. At the same
time while I was writing this, I was also doing some
heavy editing for the prologue, as well as writing the
second chapter of my ‘The Incredibles’ fic.
C&C is very welcome and appreciated. In the future
when I reach a certain chapter, perhaps chapter six or
seven, I’ll start doing a rewrite of earlier chapters
and posting them up on the FFML, implementing all the
suggestions and corrections everyone sent me : - ).
Stay tuned for Chapter 2, as we see what the Joes are
up to, and Cobra starts the beginning stages of their
plan. See ya there!
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