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The Bad Cut; I live. Again.
Topic Started: Aug 1 2012, 03:53 PM (24,786 Views)
Ozzallos
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Alright. Sorry about the leave of absence, but having a kid will do that to you. I'm really just getting back into writing stuff again and even then its all ahead slow, so my apologize. On that note, have a cookie. This particular cookie is rough and unedited. While I certainly take commentary, creative thoughts, observations and ideas, posting grammar and spelling corrections is a waste of your time. If you really want to, ask for access to the central google doc I'm working out of.

The way I see it, neither of us get paid enough to worry about it, so just sit back and enjoy :)

------------

Prologue

"Ohhh... So hungry..."

It wasn't the first time Ranma Saotome, heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial arts had uttered those words, nor did she doubt it would be the last as she trudged along an overgrown rain forest path that gave shoddy, unkempt paths a bad name. A quick glance at the sky revealed dense clouds burgeoning with moisture, causing the redhead to scowl once more as her current predicament was rammed home with unyielding clarity. It was now month eight since her father's latest training catastrophe, and that catastrophe went by the name of Jusenkyo.

Her location at the moment was the Bayankala Mountain Range in the Qinghai Province of China. The ass end of China, Ranma more precisely defined her geographic coordinates, grousing on just how she came to be what she now considered her own personal hell on Earth. In the space of two weeks, the once male martial arts heir had acquired a female body with the application of cold water and somehow gained her own personal Chinese Amazon assassin out for her blood.

Goddamn Panda, the redhead snarled mentally as she began to climb over a series of downed trees that had been wrenched from their footing sometime in the last decade to block the trail. Her old man's spectacular failure was also why she was tracing her way through the outback of China and not helping him set up camp. Taking him along to scout for food seemed like yet another prelude to disaster in Ranma's eyes, so she was more than happy to let laze around to heat some water while she hiked to the nearest village. It also represented time alone. Listening to him bitch and moan about weak girls this and pathetic girls that got old fast, and this hike was a small price to pay for some respite.

Another ten minutes of hiking saw her disheveled trail open up along the hillside she had been trudging down, clearing of the dense foliage and opening up into what was on any other day a spectacular view of the valley below. Today, the martial artist from Japan barely paid attention to the scenic outlook of lush greenery partially concealed by a veil by fog, and instead focused on the modest village nestled therein. After a moment of silent study, her eyes flicked back to the massive clouds that hung heavily in the sky, as well as noting the sun was well on its way to the horizon now that she had a clear vantage point from which to view it.

Food, hot water, maybe spend the night before getting back, Ranma prioritized, deciding that the last of day's light would be used getting to the village. Her eyes flicked back to the rolling clouds for a moment, prompting her to crack a rare smile. Old man's gonna get soaked tonight, she chortled internally, turning back down the trail. With any luck, she would make it into the village before the storm--- Movement caught her eye moving toward her from around the next bend with the sharp twang of Madarin hitting her ears seconds later.

“Stop! Thief!”

Ranma turned fully toward the commotion, finding a man running down the same path with another in hot pursuit. The fact that the first was a thief meant that she would probably trip him as he passed so the second could catch up. The fact that he was a thief running in her direction with a full bowl of food ensured she was going to relieve him of said food with a kick to the face.

“Mine! All mine! Whahaha!” The cackling thief in black was so intent on his prize and subsequent escape that he paid virtually no attention to the girl as he ran past, only realize at the last possible second that she had stepped directly into his path. Shock didn’t even had time to register as her left hand swept the bow from the chinese brigand’s grasp while simultaneously balancing on a single leg. The other thrust upward at an angle achievable only by the most devout gymnasts and slammed into his face, sending him skyward several meters.

The entire bowl of rice porridge was devoured by the time the thief hit the ground.

The victim in pursuit caught up to them seconds later, panting but quite stunned that not only had the robber been neutralized by this slip of a girl, but that she had taken the bowl for herself. He stared first at the inert man, then the young redheaded girl and her empty bowl. “You... You ate it.”

There was only one thing on Ranma’s mind in the face of such obviousness and she held out the bowl.

“More, please.”
Edited by Ozzallos, Aug 1 2012, 04:05 PM.
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Ozzallos
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The Bad Cut
Chapter ONE

Bad days. You didn’t have to be a martial arts prodigy trained since early childhood to have one. They came in a variety of flavors, ranging from the bad hair day to the bad traffic day and all points in between. Fortunately for most people their bad day lasted exactly that long: A day. Some people, however, weren’t quite as fortunate and their bad days turned into bad weeks. Maybe the boss was angry. The bills piled up. Whatever the social dilemma, the bad day decided to take up residence in their unfortunate victim’s life and extend its stay. Bad months were entirely possible after that and if one were extremely unlucky, a bad year could be achieved.

Ranma Saotome, heir to the anything goes school of martial arts was having a bad decade.

It hadn’t seemed that way at first, but then he simply wasn’t old enough to know any better. As he grew up, however, it became obvious. Some of the component parts of his bad decade were still waiting in the winds to unknowingly bite him in the ass at a later date. Others were already well known to him and went by names like the Neko Ken, Jusenkyo and Amazons. There was hope that upon his return to Japan that he had left the bad days left behind; at least until his father had announced that he had a hereto-unknown fiancee.

His first impression of the girl named Akane Tendo was that she was certainly cute, but then again she was also girl that had offered to be his friend and he had damn few of those growing up on the road.... Even if the offer was made to his cursed form. The whole fiancee thing wasn’t entirely out of the question until that initial first impression was blasted away and the real Akane was revealed. She was violent, rude and completely macho and the martial artist would be damned if he didn’t return like for like, girl or no.

But she was cute when she wanted to be.

Now wasn’t that time, however. Now Akane was doing her level best to yet another component in that bad decade because apparently Ryoga and his super heavy umbrella and razor bandannas weren’t enough for the girl to stop arguing.

‘...Just for one goddamn moment!’ Ranma groused even as structure beneath them gave way. Ryoga leapt in to press the attack, slicing at the pair with his rigid belt technique and forcing Ranma to gather the irate Tendo in his arms while simultaneously attempting to ablate the attack her opponent’s own umbrella. The clean slice through advised Ranma of the severity of the strike, but the red umbrella had done its job. Now she just had to land safely, ditch Akane and kick this fool’s--

“Let go of me!”

‘Are you kidding?!’ Was the first incredulous thought through Ranma’s brain as the girl renewed their argument... While under attack. And falling. This time the redhead couldn’t help herself and bit back with a sarcastic glare. “What?! You don’t think I’m holding you because I want to?!”

Ranma’s reward was a hard slap across the cheek as they landed. Akane Tendo stared righteous indignation back at Ranma, her eyes tearing up slightly to confuse the redhead further. “Well if I’m such a nuisance then... then...”

And then she simply stomped off leaving Ranma stunned and wondering what just happened. It took a moment to reconcile the events and especially the tears, then turned to stop the girl’s departure. “Akane?”

“IGNORE ME, WILL YOU?!” Ryoga’s belt sliced in once more but Ranma was already ducking low under the strike.

“Give it a rest, will you?!” Ranma demanded and executed a handspring to kick the lost boy’s weapon away before returning her attention to the angry girl, sprinting after her. “Akane! Akane...?”

“You don’t have to explain,” She almost sounded calm and for a moment, Ranma had hope that something could be salvaged from this trainwreck of a challenge. A friend. Even a fiancee. Maybe they could-- She whirled on him with a blistering anger flashing in her eyes dashing those hopes outright. “Because starting now, you and I are strangers!”

Ranma opened her mouth to protest, but the slightest whisper of the wind drew the redhead’s attention as Akane stared him down; just enough to cause Ranma to glance up slightly... And catch the movement of a whirling buzzsaw bandanna arcing down upon them like a cloth scythe on the very edge of the redhead's peripheral vision. Adrenaline flooded the martial artist in that moment and she executed an impossibly graceful pirotte, grabbing the irate Tendo by the wrist and twisting her out of its path.

Ranma traded her position for Akane's with the momentum and while she knew it was going to be close, Ryoga's bandanna had no chance of touching her person as it cut a path through the air behind her. And she was right...

...Almost.

The whirlwind hissed by the side of her head and cut into the ground, removing it as a threat. When her eyes returned to Akane, however, they were wide. Ranma stared, then noticed all of the other wide eyes around her. She glanced back and forth with uncertainty as everybodies attention remained fixated on her. "Ah, something on my face?"

“It’s... It’s...”
“Oh my gosh!”
“You poor thing!”

Ranma blinked. It was the last statement that got her attention and she followed the the school girl's finger pointing into the ground behind her. She turned and saw red... Hair. Her pigtail laid on the ground, half unravelled with strands casually blowing in the breeze. The martial artist's eyes widened in horror. It wasn't the lopped off length that now had her complete and undivided attention, but the mangled white strand that had once held it together; now completely shredded and unsalvageable.

Akane’s eyes flicked back and forth from the hair to the girl and her crude cut. That had almost been her in that position, but Ranma had... Any anger from before evaporated with the revelation that it could have just as easily been her hair lying there on the ground and she tentatively raised a hand to offer a gentle apology. “Ranma, I’m ah... I’m...”

“I SAID DON’T IGNORE ME!” Ryoga roared from behind, taking full advantage of Ranma’s exposed back for the finishing blow. It looked perfect in execution with the redhead still stunned and completely unaware as the lost boy descended on her with with both hands like a jackhammer. The girl’s cheek twitched imperceptibly and she twisted left at the very last moment and rolled on her center of gravity to catch his right arm as it past closest to her... And gave it a hard yank down along his momentum.

Ryoga Hibiki augered face first into the ground, shattering the earth in a minor geyser of dust and stone that settled right back on top of him. Stunned, the Lost Boy tried to shake the stars from his vision and push himself out of the rubble. He had just enough time to reacquire the expressionless girl standing over him when her fist smashed into his left jaw, sending him back to the earth. This time blood trickled off of his lip as he floundered helplessly.

“Damn...Damn you Saot--” The cold gaze in the girl’s eyes stopped him as he struggled to look up at his opponent.

Ranma simply stared at the teen lying at her feet through a tempest of emotions, most of which were advocate extreme violence in some way, shape or form. Her right arm flexed impatiently, straining... wanting to deliver another excessively violent blow to his face; excess held only in check by ten years of martial arts discipline. Instead, she delivered an ultimatum, suppressing the tremble of adrenaline in her voice with icy resolve.

“I won. You lost.” The Anything Goes heir declared emotionlessly. “I don’t care about your suffering, your issues or the hell you’ve seen. Pull this shit again and I’ll break you.”

Ryoga’s eyes bulged with the overt threat. Whether he took the threat seriously or not was uncertain but he remained in the shallow crater, unmoving. The redheaded girl stared him down for a moment longer before turning to walk away, but was interrupted by Akane three steps later.

“Is... Is there anything I can do?” The youngest Tendo offered tepidly as she eyed the haphazard cut that had removed the girl’s pigtail. The emotionless stare turned on her now and if Akane didn’t know any better, gained a layer of frost. After another long moment, Ranma simply turned away as if the woman named her fiancee was beneath her notice. Akane simmered in kind. “It’s just your hair, jerk!”

“How could you say that?!” One of her female classmates gasped, scandalized by the statement.

“Caught in public like that, Akane?” Another girl shook her head with wide eyes, as if living the experience for herself. “She’s lucky she didn’t just die!”

Akane’s attention went back and forth between the girls as she was suddenly cast in the role of unsympathetic bitch and she turned back to the redhead in the hopes of reprieve. “Ranm--”

“I’ve had enough of your help, Tendo.” Ranma shook her head and continued walking. Akane winced with the formal use of her family name and turned to her friends for support but they all avoided eye contact and began to disperse with the rest of the crowd.

Akane Tendo was left in silence, all but alone on the soccer field save the remains of Ranma’s mangled pigtail and one Ryoga Hibiki who was only now recovering enough to dig himself out. The girl watched as he shook the rubble off, glaring at the departing girl’s back. “Now do you see why I hate that insufferable bastard?”

Finally there was somebody Akane could look down upon as well and she sniffed her contempt for the defeated boy and made her own departure, hoping maybe Ranma would cool down by dinner.

-----

The family stared.

And stared.

For her part, Ranma simply ate dinner as if there was nothing the matter while studiously ignoring the eyeballs devouring her in their curiosity. The martial artist picked at the noodles on her plate in absolute silence until Nabiki Tendo finally broke the ice from her position at the table edge.

“That’s a bad cut, Saotome.”

Ranma suppressed the urge to feel at the mishaven sector on the back of her head and instead continued to eat, ignoring the overly obvious probe for information. Her father, on the other hand, followed with a slightly more pointed question.

“And why are you still a girl, boy?”

And that was the question of the hour. A slight tick found Ranma’s cheek, but she suppressed that as well and continued to eat, ignoring her father outright. He was easier to ignore than Kasumi, who was the next to weigh in with almost motherly concern.

”Oh my,” The eldest sister tilted her head as if she were trying to look around to the back of her future brother in-law’s head. “What happened to your hair, Ranma-chan?”

Ranma finally stopped eating to cast a dead stare that wandered those present at the table until she simply shrugged in Akane’s direction. “Ask Tendo there.”

Nabiki blinked at the frosty reply as did the fathers. Genma fixed his son-turned-daughter with an annoyed look at the lack of respect for the fiancee chosen for her but all eyes eventually found Akane, who had been eating her noodles quietly from her corner of the table. The eating stopped but she continued to stare at the plate self consciously.

“Akane?” Her father asked carefully, stepping lightly around his daughter’s uncharacteristically timid behavior.

“Yeah, what happened, sis?” Nabiki asked with her characteristic bluntness, causing Akane to look away.

“Ranma’s fight today,” Akane replied sullenly after a moment and the eyes returned to Ranma.

“You’re slacking, boy.” Genma was the first to comment, leveling a condescending look on his son while Nabiki simply shrugged now that the mundane nature of the incident was well known. Kasumi continued to look curiously at the butchered crop of hair. Ranma’s eating paused once more as he shot another irritated glance at Akane.

“Now tell them how it happened.” The redhead pressed and Akane’s head snapped up with simmering indignation.

“I wouldn’t have needed saving if you could have beat him as a girl!” The fiancee balked and this time Ranma all but snarled; the chopsticks flexing in her grip.

“Couldn't beat him as what!?” Ranma slammed the chopsticks to the table and bolted up from the table with a tempest brewing in her blue eyes; a tempest pointed solely at the youngest Tendo sister. Her fists balled angrily as she laid into the girl. “I controlled that fight from start ta finish! I kicked his ass as a boy and girl while savin’ yours!” The fuming martial artist jabbed at the back of her head and the absent pigtail. “The only reason I got this is because you wouldn’t butt out!”

The family sat stunned for a moment, staring at the pair as they stared one another down.

“Jeez, Saotome,” Nabiki drawled after several tense moments, unable to see the big deal. “It’s just hair, right?”

Ranma’s gaze mechanically swivelled on the middle Tendo sister still smoldering with barely contained fury and for the first time in a long time, Nabiki Tendo felt the slightest edge of trepidation form up within the pits of her stomach.

“Just. Hair.” The words were ground out in a manner that advertised to everybody watching that the girl was on her very last thread of emotional control. If Ranma’s tone didn’t make it plainly obvious, her grinding jaw and clenched fist should have. The death stare into Nabiki Tendo last several seconds longer than necessary before Ranma broke by favoring Akane with a glare. A contemptuous snort followed and the martial artist spun away from the table to stomp out of the room. A door slammed seconds later.

The remainder of the family simply stared at the point where Ranma had disappeared from sight for a full minute before turning back to Akane whose eyes in turn flicked back and forth until she finally turned away in embarrassment. Nabiki merely shrugged and went back to eating, though Kasumi too put down her chopsticks and rose to height. Questioning looks followed and she simply smiled demurely for them.

“Maybe I can help by evening it out just a bit,” She offered, then turned to Nabiki. “If you could clear the dishes for me when everybody is done, imouto?”

Nabiki arched an eyebrow and wanted to say ‘no’, but nobody said no to Kasumi and thus bobbed her head, allowing the older sister to depart after Ranma leaving nabiki, Akane, Soun and Genma to wonder at the situation. The Tendo Patriarch studied his daughter doing her level best to avoid eyecontact then turned to Genma with a questioning look.

“Old friend...?”

“I don’t know.” Genma stated simply already anticipating the question. To say the behavior was atypical was a vast understate since Ranma was very rarely prone to such intense outburst. Sure he got upset and even pissed off, but like this? Not even finding out he had a fiancee had pressed the boy this badly. It took a lot to push the boy as he had just witnessed and over hair of all things? Genma Saotome shook his head, equally mystified. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”

----------

Ranma Saotome couldn’t sleep.

Between his old man’s interrogations and the day’s happenings, she was entirely too keyed up to even think about sleep. Instead she found herself restlessly tracing a route through the house as the patter of rain beat against the roof outside. The world outside the window strobed blindingly for a split second and the storm beyond advertised its presence through the dull rumble of thunder. It was the last thing on Ranma’s mind, however as she traced the path to the restroom and flipped on the light; squinting with the sudden illumination even as she slid the door shut.

Her vision cleared quickly enough and she turned to the only thing she had come for-- The mirror. In it was the girl. Her cursed form. That body she had lived with off and on for nearly two years now. She was exotic; crystal blue eyes set upon flawless, almost porcelain skin. God only knew where the red hair had come from but it only served to enhance her already ethereal features. She frowned at it and instead cocked her head just enough to catch the back of her head an angle where a pigtail used to reside. Ranma’s hand reflexively reached up to feel along her scalp where several things used to be... The pigtail. The Dragon Whisker. Her very manhood.

Kasumi had done a decent job at leveling out the rougher cuts made by Ryoga’s bandanna and now that red hair- sans pigtail -sat as a light, neck length crop that fell just shy of her shoulders; an effort that she had refused at first, though Ranma was rapidly coming to the conclusion that nobody refused Kasumi. A trim and styling followed in spite of her obstinacy, likewise enduring the subtle questioning as to what had gone so wrong.

‘If only you knew,’ Ranma shook her head mentally as she continued to feel through the layers of red hair. The martial artist knew what the others were thinking: That she was going ballistic over a simple pony-tail. They just didn’t know... That fight had destroyed her seal and now it was either remain in this body or...

‘Or become that monster,’ Ranma sighed audibly, her shoulders slumping as if an invisible weight had settled upon them. Ranma’s gaze flicked back up to the girl in the mirror and she shook her head wearily. There was, of course, the possibility of a cure; another dragon whisker that would replace the one destroyed with her pigtail, but neither Ranma nor her reflection seemed convinced. ‘Yeah, and where am I gonna find a dragon again?’

She turned from the mirror and slapped the light off, exiting the restroom more depressed than ever. She stood silently in the hallway with only the patter of rain and her thoughts for company until a rattling inconsistent with the gusting wind drew her attention. She followed it to the living room, wondering at first if the porch door was loose until the lightning illuminated the world once more... And the silhouette of a person beyond the bamboo screen.

‘A burglar?’ Ranma blinked and the rattle continued with more insistence. Once the initial shock had past, she couldn't help but to stare at the jiggling handle with mounting incredulity. ‘But who would be stupid enough to break into a dojo?’

The redhead shrugged. Who or why was unimportant. The fact that it meant an ass to kick instead of brooding over some nigh-impossible cure and she set a course for the side door, opening it quietly. Cold rain greeted her exit but she ignored it and hopped up to the rooftop instead, cutting a diagonal line across its spine and shingles to the porch door under assault. Soft rattling greeted her ears over the rain’s din and Ranma allowed herself a slight predatory smile as she peeked over the edge. Little more than a shadow with an umbrella could be discerned from her vantage point, but it was more than enough to ensure the robber- her victim -was still there and she executed a graceful flip off the roof to land behind the intruder in complete silence.

His efforts seemed to grow more insistent as Ranma looked on, studying the figure that looked oddly familiar. Familiar or not, she decided it was high time to stop the thief before he forced the door outright. “Something I can do for you, asshole?”

The shadow stiffened with her words then spun around. Ranma’s predatory smirk turned into a frown. Her open hand flexed into a strained fist as recognition found a home in her brain. Red Umbrella, check. Yellow bandanas, check. Pants and shirt that had seen one too many unwashed days in the outback, check. Ryoga’s Hibiki’s eyes widened in kind with the unexpected encounter.

“YOU!” The first word of his mouth was in surprise. Everything after that was a snarl. “I’ve seen hell because--OOooF!”

He was never able to complete the sentence as the redhead slid in against the completely unprepared boy and buried a sucker punch deep into the Lost Boy’s gut. Air exploded from his lungs and then his face exploded as she spun around and delivered a reverse roundhouse kick to his cheek. Stars and blackness danced across the staggering boys vision, though he retained enough awareness to register the next four hits in the combination she had set up- Two more to the ribs, a pressure point in the abdomen, then another punishing blow to the face. Ryoga Hibiki wobbled across the wet grass of the Tendo courtyard, barely remaining upright enough to hold the red umbrella overhead.

Ranma stared with disgust at her wobbling opponent as he fought to maintain his footing while realizing even if he did, his former childhood classmate was no longer a threat. That hardly mattered to the soaked girl, who was seething inside.

“Ryoga.” The martial arts demanded the Lost Boy’s attention as she crossed the space to him. Ryoga tried to step back and away, but she had every advantage now. Her blue eyes flashed with the lightning overhead and she cracked her knuckles with the thunder. “What did I tell ya was gonna happen if you pulled this shit again?”

“I’ll... I’ll have my revenge Saotome!” The Lost Boy panted and tried to firm up his stance. Ranma cocked her head at his obsessive behaviour but shook it with false sympathy.

“Should have taken the bread, Hibiki.”

The girl was under his umbrella in the moment it took him to draw his next breath to protest and her elbow slammed into the rib that had already been hit thrice before. This time an audible crack sounded with the blow. Ryoga doubled over in pain and she grabbed his upper right arm as he fell, stepping past him in one fluid maneuver that tore it from its socket. Two more open palm strikes slammed into his face, with the second round off by her elbow that in turn sent the fanged boy reeling. The grip on his umbrella finally faltered and cold rain hit him openly for the first time.

“DAMN YOU!” The lost boy roared and put every last ounce of strength into extricating himself from the battle. Ranma pulled back in case of a last minute gamit on his part but Ryoga blured into the night just over the Tendo property wall. Ranma held her guard for a second longer then relaxed, standing alone in the rain as the lights came on in the house behind her. Much as instinct demanded she press the advantage, it wasn’t as if he was going to get very far with that rib and she was already a soaked mess.

‘Whatever,’ She huffed and turned back to the house, finding Nabiki and Kasumi peering at her from the stairway upon entering.

“What was the racket, Saotome?” The middle sister questioned and it was immediately followed up on by her older sibling.

“We heard fighting...” Kasumi emoted concern, stepping past him to a shelf full of linen. She proffered Ranma one with the clear implication that she should use it to dry off.

“Hibiki was tryin’ to break in.” Eyes widened at Ranma’s announcement as she toweled herself off. “Showed him the error of his ways.”

“Send more bread his way?” Nabiki rolled her eyes with sarcastic amusement; amusement that died upon seeing Ranma’s icy stare back at her.

“I dislocated his shoulder and broke a rib.”

“Oh my,” Kasumi intoned with a hand covering her mouth in the place of Nabiki’s silence. She continued to talk in order to fill the uncomfortable silence between the pair. “We thought it might have been the piglet.”

Now it was Ranma’s turn to blink, unsure she heard correctly. “Piglet?”

“It got in somehow,” Nabiki explained quickly, hoping to put the social faux pas behind her. “Akane’s taking care of it; one of those cute miniature ones that people keep as pets. Looks pretty banged up from the storm.”

Ranma shook her head at the unlikely series of events and tossed the towel back over her shoulder. “Well I’m freezing after running around in that rain after Ryoga. I’m going to get a... a hot...”

Both sisters watched as the redhead’s voice trailed off, her face slowly developing into a frown. A single twitch developed along the girls left cheek but she shook it off with a long sigh. Nabiki arched an eyebrow at the obviously conflicting emotions playing out across the girl’s face until her thousand yard stare finally broke. “I’m hittin’ the futon. Don’t wake me up unless it’s world war three or some--”

“Bwee!”

Three pairs of eyes instantly tracked on a small black streak as it passed between their legs, seemingly oblivious to their presence. It rounded the hallway corner and made a beeline toward the bathroom. Ranma arched an eyebrow, pointing in its general direction as it ran. “That wouldn’t be...?”

“Akane’s piglet appears to have run amok.” Nabiki deadpanned and waved its presence off. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”

“Ranma could you please make sure it doesn’t cause any trouble?” Kasumi asked, prompting a less than energetic look from the martial artist.

“Sure, why not...” Ranma advised dully as her train of through followed her tone of voice. ‘...Since I’m apparently done takin’ out the other trash tonight.’ She followed the pig’s path lethargically and opened the door it had managed to squeeze through fully even as it seemed to busy itself with the furoh facet controls. Ranma cocked her head and watched as it continued to jump on the knob oblivious to her presence. ‘What the hell is it trying to do?’

“Bwee! Bwee! Bwee!”

The redhead’s eyes tracked it up and down as it tried to manipulate the hot water spigot, bouncing up and down, then scratching at it furiously until it finally gained traction. Water started to trickle then flow with earnest as Ranma watched in amazement. ‘That’s one smart--’

Any amusement she had over the scene died as the steam suddenly filled with the body of a nude teenage boy, complete with bandanna and fanged conternace. The newly transformed boy let out a sigh of relief but paused, realizing something wasn’t quite right. He turned to find a growling redhead standing over him. Ryoga’s eyes widened in horror.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill ya right now?”

The lost boy’s mouth opened but the boy himself was at a loss for words. He was already battered and bruised by this same redhead and another round of that didn’t bode well in his current condition. The pain in his ribs throbbed and the left side of his face just plain hurt. Still, he was at least able to summon the proper indignation, if not fight. “Because this is all you fault, Ranma!”

Her fist flexed impatiently. She had heard that before, but it was only the inclusion of a Jusenkyo curse that stayed her anger from visiting itself on Ryoga outright. “And how’s that, Hibiki?”

“I followed you after you ran out on our duel!” The nude boy stood up out of the furoh, clearly incensed. Neither batted an eye at his state of undress as Ryoga continued. “I wandered through the vastness of China chasing you!”

Ranma stared at the implications inherent in his story and snorted with dead humor. “And ya followed me all the way to Jusenkyo where you got your dumb ass cursed.”

“Yes!” Ryoga confirmed angrily. Ranma crooked a condescending smile.

“Serves ya right.”

“WHAT?!” Ryoga bellowed and lunged at Ranma with an outstretched hand. The redhead simply sidestepped the already off balance attempt and grabbed the wrist as he passed. She yanked the boy out of the furoh and slammed him into the hard tile where she straddled his back, locking the arm behind his back. “Let me up, dammit!”

“Didn’t I pop this joint once already?” Ranma eyed the shoulder and shrugged. “Oh well.”

She pulled it through hyperextension again and popped it neatly out of place, immediately followed by another cry of pain from Ryoga. She let him writhe under her for a moment longer before using her free hand to press his face forcibly into the tile.

“You’re goddamn certifiable, you know that? Ya followed me to China on quest for revenge over bread.” She pushed his head harder into the tile, grinding his jaw into the hard surface. “Well I’ll tell ya what, Hibiki; You got off damn easy compared to me, which means I got no problems makin’ it worse for you if you wanna keep pushin’ it.”

“You... You call that cute form a--ARRRARGH!” Ryoga tried rebuke the martial artist, but Ranma yanked on the dislocated shoulder to end his rebuttal with pain.

“In other words, quit while you’re ahead,” Ranma clenched her jaw as she struggled to contain the fury that was building up over the past injustices relived. “Before I do somethin’ you might really regret.”

“P-chan! Peeeeeeeee-chan!”

Ranma scrunched her brow at the name and Akane’s voice coming from the hallway. ‘P-chan,’ she mouthed, then looked down at Ryoga beneath her as two and two came together. “P-chan? Piggy-chan? Cute name, Hibiki.”

“Don’t look down on murrrrrllff!” Ranma simply pressed his face back into the tile and reached for the shower hose. She smirked at the lost boy and took aim.

“This’ll make you a bit more manageable,” She replied and gave triggered the shower head. It took less than a seconds worth of application to melt the Lost Boy into a black pigglet, which she then snatched up by the bandanna, eyeing it. The pigglet struggled and she chortled her amusement, poking at its nose. “Yeah I’m thinkin’ this was the right curse for you after-- OW!

The moment’s worth of neglect was all it took for her index finger to wander within range of Ryoga’s mouth and he bit down hard, securing his release. The black piglet fell back to the tile where it scrambled around Ranma even as she scrambled to catch it. Ryoga was out of the bathroom in a flash with Ranma in hot pursuit, stumbling out into the hallway seconds later only to watch as it made a beeline for Akane.

“P-Chan!” She put her hands down to scoop it up while simultaneously providing Ryoga with safe haven from the irate redhead. Akane looked at the battered piglet in wonder, then Ranma who had just exited the bathroom to stare it down. The math was easy for the youngest Tendo and she fixed a glare for Ranma’s sake. “What in the world are you doing to this poor piggy?!”

Ranma was about ready to protest her innocence when another thought entered her mind. It caused the slightest arrogant smirk to manifest as she watched Akane Tendo clutch the piglet defensively. Ranma shook her head and simply walked by.

“He’s all yours, Tendo.”
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Ranma’s next visit to the restroom was by dawns’ early light upon being woken up by Kasumi. That in itself was a switch since that role had apparently been delegated to Akane in the week prior. ‘Walkin on eggshells after last night,’ She reasoned, which suited her just fine. She needed the space and an Akane Tendo wakeup call was the very last thing she needed at the moment. The cold rinse she was forced to partake of was the very next to last, but she had no choice in the matter and took her medicine like the man she was... Or used to be.

A queasy feeling settled in the redhead’s stomach as she rinsed the last of the lather away with cold water while staring longingly at the warm water spigot.

‘Maybe...’ Her hand behind to rise for the facet as the thought began to form. ‘Maybe it’s run its course. Maybe I don’t gotta worry about it. Maybe...’

The transfixed girl grasped the facet and began to turn slowly, allowing warm water to flow at a trickle, then a modest stream. Ranma repositioned her hands but paused before outright letting the water flow over them... She was scared. Hopeful. Uncertain.

“Feh.” The redhead shook off those introspective emotions and set her jaw, plunging her hand into the flowing water. The change washed over her immediately and for the briefest of moments, the now male martial arts felt elation... At least until he felt the slick wetness of damp hair slithering down his bare shoulders.

“Aw, dammit!” Ranma panic and scrambled for the spigot, spinning it closed while simultaneously opening the cold water tap with his other hand. He all but dove under the facet and the curse took hold once more to the neo-girl’s mixed relief. She recovered from the awkward position and stood up to catch sight of the nearest mirror. Her fears were instantly confirmed. Instead of the polite crop of hair she had went to bed with last night, she now wore a damp, dark red mane that fell to her mid back. She stared at it for another moment before flicking a troublesome strand out of her eyes to join the rest, then addressed her reflection directly. “So much for that.”

With any hope for an easy fix suitable squashed, the depressed martial artist turned away from the mirror and set about the task of dressing for the day, leaving the wet hair to its own devices. While there wasn’t any silver lining to speak of concerning the entire debacle, the expressions on those waiting at the breakfast table were priceless.

“Oh..Oh my!”
“What the hell, Saotome?”
“Your hair!”
“Um, Saotome-kun...?”
“Better start explaining, boy.”

Wide eyes tracked her person as she circled around to her position at the table as incredulous stares tracked her until she sat down at the open spot next to Nabiki. Once she had settled in, Ranma deemed an answer appropriate.

“It grew.” With that, she began consuming the cold soba noodles even as the gawking continued.

“Overnight?” Nabiki starred, all but ready to reach out and give it a tug herself; an impulse curbed by the remembrance of the violence dispensed last night. Even so, there was no way it was fake. Not a chance. She shook her head at the impossibility. “That’s just unnatural.”

“But... But I just cut it...” Kasumi couldn’t stop blinking, going so far as to lean forward in front of Nabiki to stare.

“And now its long again.” Ranma irritably dismissed her curiosity with no intention and at offering an explanation, let alone having the patience to do so. An inhuman snort attracted her attention and she glanced down the table past her audience to find Akane staring back at her... With a little black pigglet nestled in her lap. The sight prompted the slightest edge of a malicious smile even as Genma laid into his son turned daughter

“After breakfast you’re going to lose that girlie hair,” Genma ordered as he took the almost sickening details in for himself. “And after that, you’re going to spend some time as--”

“How’s the piggy, Tendo?” Ranma interrupted her father’s rant; paying absolutely no attention to him at all. She had eyes only for Akane, who suddenly adopted a guard look. The black piglet’s eyes widened suddenly and it began to squirm in the youngest Tendo’s grasp.

“You’re scaring him on purpose!” Akane accused, tightening her hold on the struggling pigglet. Her gaze narrowed on the redhead. “You had better not come near him again!”

Ranma took one last bite of her soba and smirked, standing up from the table as the others watched the confrontation unfold. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it. But there’s somethin’ ya probably oughta know...”

The temperamental sister continued to glare, even as Ranma turned to walk away. The suspicion in her tone was clearly evident. “What?”

“...That’s Ryoga you’re holdin’ there.” The martial artist chuckled and could all but feel the shock and awe at her back. Ranma stopped and glanced back to the suddenly wide eyed girl. The redhead decided the moment was perfect for the coup de gras as she walked away. “Hope ya didn’t undress in front of him or ‘nuthin.”

Unadulterated chaos erupted in her wake.

-------

Whatever joy Ranma Saotome, heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts had achieved in poking Akane Tendo with a stick was blunted by her own poor performance later that afternoon. It was a well rehearsed scheme; one that she normally worked to absolute perfection. Ranma would dress in her mao suit and commence to liberating the food stuffs from any and all of the unsuspecting vendors along her route. All she had to do was roll up, flash them the cutest smile they had ever seen and walk away with her arms full of goodies... Just not today.

Something was throwing off that fine tuned scheme and she suspected it had to do with the long mane of hair at her back. Simply put it, it didn’t fit the cute-as-a-button image she was looking to project, which meant the only thing she was coming away with was a growling stomach.

‘Stupid hair curse,’ The redhead groused as she thoughtlessly walked the dividing fence separating a street and canal. her perfect balance gained more than a few stares, but she paid them little mind as she considered her next course of action. ‘Ask Kasumi to cut it again? Pay somebody to chop it off?’

Any idle musings on the topic were cut off as her attention was drawn to a standoff in an empty lot she was passing. Ranma watched as three masked figures faced off against one black haired schoolgirl. Most of their conversation was lost at her distance but something about Furikan and a match found her ear.

‘But what’s with these guys and the bandages?’ a portion of her thought process wondered as the three arrayed themselves around the girl. Any question she could pose became moot as their actions spoke for themselves. All three charged simultaneously, bring the clubs they were wielding to bear on their target.

They got their asses kicked.

The clubs aided the masked attackers in no way as the school girl pulled out a ribbon and proceeded to whip the tar out of them. The ribbon snapped like a machine gun, forcing what she assumed were Furikan students back under the painful assault. Ranma shook her head at the pathetic display. ‘Guess it’s up to me to put a stop to this before one of those chumps really gets hurt.’

“Please forgive if I’ve failed to convey my message!” The ribbon spiralled through the air and the black haired girl have it a snap, as if to punctuate her apology. Painful yelps followed the staccato of cracks as she pressed her reprisal. “If I may restate it, this! Or this! Or this will be clearer!”

Her next volley, however, failed to land and she spun back around on her momentum to find the end of the ribbon taught in the hand of a redheaded girl. Ranma was about to call an end to the hostilities verbally when one of the masked figures called out over her in surprise, pointing.

“It’s the martial arts girl from yesterday!” One exclaimed, causing Ranma to blink.

“The one with the really bad cut?” Another boggled. “But its super long now!”

“Who cares! Didn’t she help Akane?” The final last of the trio chimed in desperately. “We’re Akane’s friends too! Help us beat this witch!”

It was the last statement that caused Ranma no small amount of moral pause. She looked from the masked figures whose voices sounded decidedly female to the schoolgirl attached to the other end of the ribbon. The black haired girl watched wait patiently for the outcome of the conversation and it was there that Ranma made a decision.

‘Akane’s friends.’ The statement left a decidedly sour taste in the redhead’s mouth. It made her next decision all the easier. ‘Who am I to butt in on chick fight?’

The school girl blinked as the tension in her ribbon suddenly slackened. The girl had not only outright let go, but was now favoring her with a crooked smile. “Sorry about that. My bad.”

“What?!”
“No!”
“You can’t just leave us!”

“Seriously, three on one?” Ranma shook her head while her tone conveyed the disdain in her voice. “Figures that’s the kinda people Tendo would hang out with.” She turned her back on them and threw them an uncaring wave over her shoulder. “Ja-ne.”

Ranma hadn’t taken ten steps when she was stopped by the schoolgirl’s voice. “Girl. What is your name?”

The girl’s cheek twitched with the gender reference, but she turned back regardless. “Saotome. Ranma. You?”

“Kuno, Kodachi; The Black Rose of St. Bacchus,” The schoolgirl inclined her head respectfully. “Please do not forget it.”

‘Kuno?’ Ranma boggled as the girl pulled a black rose from her book and flicked it toward her. Ranma caught it on pure reflex and watched her bound off in manic laughter. Ranma stared after her for a moment before taking her leave, sparing a contemptuous glance at the cowering girls before departing.

They were also problems that would follow her home.

First, there was Akane Tendo who didn’t quite seem to appreciate that she had shared her bed with a Jusenkyo cursed asshole. Ranma smiled at the thought even as the youngest Tendo melted down right before her very eyes as the family watched from the living room; peering around the corner like so many mice.

“And you just let him watch!” The youngest Tendo fumed with rising anger, and she all but stabbed the martial artist with an accusing finger. “He saw me without my bra, Ranma!”

“Then I guess me and Ryoga really do have something in common,” Ranma cocked her head as if to contemplate the idea, adding fuel to Akane’s boiling temper.

“You could have stopped him, you Pervert!”

“Ya miss yesterday’s episode, tomboy?” Ranma rolled her eyes, clearly not taking the situation as seriously as the girl named her fiancee. “I kicked his ass twice and was on my way to kicking it a third time when you screwed it up. Again.”

“How was I supposed to know he was a pig?!” Akane screeched as she revisited last night; specifically the memories of chatting to a little black piglet as she undressed in before it's very eyes. “You could have told me!!”

“And you’ve just been a real trustin’ soul these past few weeks, ain’t ya Tendo?” Ranma’s eyes narrowed on the girl who had begun to ball her fist. “I could have told ya the sky was blue and you’d still find something to bitch about.”

“It was a bit over the top, but she’s got a point, sis,” Nabiki commented from the sidelines and Akane threw a angry glare in her direction.

“Who’s side are you on anyway?! She balked, now seething over the wounds to her pride. Kasumi chose that moment to intervene by stepping fully into the living room. Her polite smile managed to dampen her sister’s fury slightly.

“Some of your friends are here to see you, Akane.”

“What the hell has gotten into you boy?!” Genma descended upon the redhead with the distraction, managing a headlock before Ranma could even react. he throttled the girl mercilessly while interrogating her as she struggled. “Complaining about this! Arguing about that! And what did you do to your--!”

“IT AIN’T YOUR DAMN CONCERN!” Ranma hollered and lowered her center of gravity. Her right foot slid two centimeters out and she chose her pivot point, dropping just enough to haul her father off her right shoulder and onto the floor with a hard thud. Genma rolled out and regained his footing, scowling at his neo-daughter.

“We’ll discuss this outside, boy,” The Saotome patriarch demanded a strode past the red with purpose even as Kasumi was letting Akane’s guests in.

“Thank you for having us over-Ack! It’s her!” One of the three girls following Kasumi and Akane pointed. Upon designating the long haired redhead walking past with a trembling finger, the other two likewise shuffled away.

“The traitor from the park!” Another gasped while the remaining girl covered her mouth in scandal.

“The what...?” Akane blinked even as Ranma stopped to eye the cowering girls.

Ranma scrutinize the trio hiding behind the chosen fiancee with a puzzled expression. “You girls wouldn’t happen to be...?”

“She just abandoned us!” One wailed pitifully, solidifying their identity in the martial artists mind. Unfortunately, that thought process had contempt written all over it.

“Oh hey, it’s the clutzy trio again.” Ranma waved cutely at the bruised girls, then eyed Akane expectantly. “Friends of yours, Tendo?”

“What was that?!” Akane’s temper simmered once more with the obvious insinuation, prompting the martial artist to shrug innocently.

“Just figuring you had so much in common is all,” The girl sniped, prompting a twitch to form at the girl’s cheek.

“Evil witch!” Akane’s friend rebuked and Ranma shrugged.

“Whatever,” She continued out the door opposite of the group. “I’m on my way to kick the fat old Panda’s ass. Don’t wait up.”

“We won’t!” Akane shouted at the redhead’s back as the girls looked on.

“What is with her, Akane-chan?” One asked, shaking her head.

“And you’re actually letting her stay?” The other boggled. Akane huffed with the last comment.

“It’s not up to me.” She temporized, leading the girls up the stairway to her room. “But forget about him for--”

“Her.” One of the trio pointed out as they followed. Akane scrunched her forehead with the unpleasant reminder.

“Forget about her.” The youngest Tendo continued, ”How did you get all those bruises? Something about a fight?”

All three nodded at once and told Akane their story. Outside, a different story was being related as one redheaded girl and a middle aged, bald martial artist beat one another down with extreme prejudice.

“And I said you’re going to cut it!” Genma growled as he ducked under his daughter’s roundhouse kick to deliver several punishing body blows as it passed.

“And I’m tellin’ ya it won’t do any good!” She yelled back, pivoting on the momentum she had gained to profile away from the combination her father was hoping to setup. The redhead whirled around and batted his strike away, hoping to likewise compromise her father’s guard.

“You’ve been spending too much time as a girl!” The opening Ranma sought in her father’s guard closed up, and Genma pounced with the feint. Ranma back peddled out of the trap, but took a fist to the abdomen for her troubles. She slid back and reassembled her guard while brushing the long strands of hair out of her eyes. Genma fixed a steely gaze on her. “You’re going to change back. You’re going to cut that hair. And most of all, you’re going to apologize to Akane!”

“Like hell I will!” The long haired girl snarled and charged. She leapt into the air, dodging Genma’s counter attack, twisted around and landed a solid flying kick to his face. “...on all accounts!”

Genma Saotome went skidding, but twisted to regain his balance through the slide before coming to a stop several meters later. He felt his busted lip and wiped the small trickle of blood away, considering the panting girl warily. She was tired but she was also giving as good as she got, which meant he was feeling it too. The Saotome patriarch switched tactics.

“What’s gotten into you, boy?”

The sudden lack of physical violence in no way caused Ranma to drop her guard. “Ain’t your business.”

“We’re guests of the Tendos and that makes it my business,” Genma pushed back and was rewarded for the effort by an ever so slight look of indecision on his cursed son’s face. “Soun and I went through a lot of trouble to get you and Akane--”

“Yeah, she told you how there was no chance in hell it was ever gonna happen, right?” Ranma preempted his father’s sob story concerning the parent’s mutual sacrifice. The girl jabbed a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the house at large. “Don’t suppose she mentioned how she declared me and her nothin’ but strangers after I saved her ass yesterday, did she?”

“That doesn’t mean--”

“Didn’t think so.” The redhead shrugged, already knowing the answer which was immediately confirmed by her father’s attempt at verbal evasion. “Face it old man, it just ain’t gonna work out.”

“Well you’re going to go back in there and try again!” Genma pointed back to the house with the demand. “And you’re going to do it as a man, not a whiny little girl with long hair and cute bows!”

The fact that Ranma’s hair was mostly an unstyled mane less cute bows, ribbons or adornments of any sort made little difference to Ranma who simply crossed her arms in challenge. “Well it ain’t gonna happen.”

While Genma Saotome wasn't sure which part of his ultimatum ‘wasn’t going to happen,’ he’d be damned if he’d take that sort of lip from his own child. “By the time we’re done here, you’re going to beg me for some hot water, boy. Then you’re going to plead for the chance to apologize to Akane.”

“You and what army, Old man?” Ranma’s arms dropped to her side loosely and she bounced on her feet eagerly. She glanced around, motioning to the entire tendo courtyard. “In case ya didn’t notice, there ain’t no convenient stop signs ta help you scrape a win this time.”

“I’ve got moves you’ve never seen before, boy.” Genma warned direly and began and began to circle his neo-daughter for tactical positioning. “Last chance.”

“So bring it already,” The martial artist waved him over with all the arrogance in the world. Genma scowled, but nodded.

“Just remember, you asked for this,” Genma took a low crouching stance and cocked his right arm back while fanning the left out before him. The dramatic display set Ranma on edge and she watched his every movement carefully. Genma took a deep breath, radiating menace. “Anything Goes School of Martial Arts Special Attack number thirty eight! Ich! Ni! SAN!”

Genma slid around, shifting his center of balance abruptly and pulled both hands back. He also began to glow blue. Ranma’s eyes widened as the move telegraphed through her brain. ‘No way!’ She gaped, coming to an unlikely conclusion as he sighted her with wind up. ‘The old man’s gotta chi technique up his sleeve?!’

“HADOKEN!”

Ranma pulled back into a tight defensive stance, bracing behind a crossguard for the inevitable attack until her thoughts caught up to the word. She blinked, mouthing the word. ‘Hadoken?’ The redhead peeked out beyond her arms just in time to watch her father casually toss a kettle of hot water at her. Her eyes only had time to widen before the kettle smacked into her, upending its steaming contents upon the martial artist to reverse the curse.

“ACK!”

Genma Saotome watched as the girl twitched violently with the application of steaming hot water, then predictably melt back into the gender of his birth. The martial arts master smirked at his own success. Girl to boy? Check. Next, get rid of all that long... Genma quirked an eyebrow as his son began to struggle with the now black mane of hair. If he didn’t know any better, it was getting... longer?

“Dammit, Pops!” Ranma clutched at the back of his head as if trying to contain the growth that was even now creeping out of his scalp. Ranma glanced back and forth in panic, looking for some way- any way -to stem the tide of growing hair before it reached critical mass while his father watched with ever growing incredulity. Fortunately enough, there was a mass of cold water nearby and the panicking Saotome dove for it.

Literally.

The last time Ranma found himself in the Tendo koi pond it was courtesy of his very father relating the story of Jusenkyo to the family. This time he partook of it eagerly, displacing water and fish in order to stay the blessing accidentally bestowed upon him two years ago. ‘Curse is more like it,’ The now redhead martial artist grumbled as she picked herself out of the sloshing pond, spitting out fish water. ‘Definitely a curse.’

“Now see what ya did?” The sopping mess of a girl stepped back onto dry land, staring a dejected hole into her father as her father watched with wide eyes. Genma still wasn’t sure what he did, but he could see the results with absolute clarity. Five minutes ago, that girl body worn by his son had red hair reaching down to just about the middle of her back. Now the wet tangles of scarlet were hanging just past the small of her back, down around her buttox. The Saotome child grasped a thick strand hanging over her left shoulder and wrung it out with a put out expression on her face. “Wonderful. Simply goddamn wonderful.”

“Ah, son?” Genma stepped forward carefully, staring at the hair as if it were a living organism of sorts. He crept up to his cursed progeny who was busy wringing pond water from the lengthy strands of red hair. “What just happened?”

“Ya couldn’t leave well enough alone, that’s what just happened.” Ranma responded edgily. She knew there was no way she was getting out of it without an explanation when her father continued to stare, reaching out as if he wanted to poke her hair experimentally. She sighed and sat down on the nearest rock to wring out the tangles of hair while offering an explanation. “Fine. happened a ways back in China. Kicked some thief’s ass while huntin’ down food and ended up taking his food instead.”

The look on Genma’s face clearly indicated that he didn’t have a clue as to how Ranma went from a beat down to the tangles draped around her but she continued regardless. “Turns out he had stolen the food from some outback chinese restaurant. The porridge I ate was their special technique.”

“That... grows... hair?” Her father boggled at the concept reflexively rubbing the his own bald head in wonder. “But... such a blessing...”

“...Sucks if ya don’t got the Dragon Whisker to seal it up.” Ranma curtailed her father’s amazement with hard reality. Another length of hair dribbled with water as she wrung it out. “If you don’t have one to bind your hair, it’ll keep growin’ and growin’ and growin’.”

“Well that’s no so bad.” Genma shrugged, failing to see the down side. Ranma cast a dry look at him.

“Seconds, Pop.” The put out redhead motioned to the crimson tresses surrounding her. “I got hair down to my ass in seconds. When I first got the curse, I nearly filled up half the guy’s restaurant back in China inside a minute.”

“That’s... it’s... Hmmmm...” The senior martial artist cocked his head and thought as conflicting emotions warred within. On one hand, this technique was an absolute Godsend to people such as himself. On the other it was a severe liability if it couldn’t be controlled. Still, if he could only make it work... He returned his attention to the girl that was his son who in turn was watching him doubtfully. “And this dragon whisker... controls the growth?”

Ranma rolled her eyes, easily seeing where the conversation was going. “You can thank that asshole Ryoga for destroying mine. Akane wasn’t much of a help either.”

“Surely this Chinese restaurant has another in stock?” The Saotome patriarch continued to press for a positive outcome.

Ranma fixed him with a decidedly unamused look. “And when was the last time you seen a dragon ta pluck whiskers from walking around? It was all I could do to get the last one the guy had in stock. Got the impression he was gettin’ out of the hair business.”

“But that technique... He could be richer than the Emperor himself with that dish!” Genma boggled, unable to comprehend why anyone would abandon such an art.

“Funny ya should mention that,” Ranma nodded as she tried to arrange her now merely damp hair into something she wouldn’t trip over. She flipped the mass behind her back where it hung all the way to her backside. The martial artist eyed its presence with disdain, then returned to the topic at hand. “He was going on about bloody wars being fought over the Dragon Whisker or something. Can’t see why, personally.”

Genma, however could. Bald men everywhere... Daimyo... Emperors... Aging martial artist... all fighting a pitched and bloody war where no quarter was given just so their bald heads would yet again see another strand of hair. Genma shivered at the battlefield of carnage and violence playing out in his mind’s eye.

“Such a seductive horror,” Genma murmured to himself as he stared at his son tresses longingly. Ranma heard it and nodded.

“Not sure about the seductive part, but horror is dead on.”

“And only as a man?” Her father confirmed, prompting Ranma to nod again as they both headed to the house. It was a fiendish dilemma to be certain, Genma realized as he worked the angles. Certain contingencies required the boy to be a man amongst men, but his son couldn’t even risk spending a minute in his birth form with this new ‘blessing’. Likewise, if anything was to happen on the marriage front, it would almost certainly have to happen with his son as an actual son.

Truly the proverbial rock and a hard place.

“I have some contacts here in Japan.” Genma advised the neo-girl as they stepped back into the house who suddenly looked hopeful in turn. “We’ll ask around and see if we can’t source this whisker...” For both of our sakes, Genma indulged in another covetous glance at the long red hair. He would get a whisker, resurrect his own hair and cure his son...

...More than likely in that order whether he realized his moral priorities or not. Still, there was one last thing to address, even if the hair and gender were an impass, and he stopped his the girl that was his son with a firm hand on her shoulder. Ranma looked at it and up to him and he could all but see his offspring running through the tactical options of the contact like it was second nature.

‘I’ll look for your dragon whisker, but you have to promise me one thing.” He advised solemnly, piquing the martial artist’s attention. “You have to at least try with Akane.”

Ranma favored her father with an edgy look. “And who’s gonna give her the message she’s gotta start tryin herself?”

The heavy amount of scorn in his child’s voice took Genma back and he was just assembling a suitable comeback when a new female voice interrupted his thoughts.

“It’s... It’s even longer than before!”

Ranma scrunched her eyes closed with the almost certainly impending migraine that was about to descend upon her. Kasumi now gaped outright; an unusual sight in and of itself and she was clearly gaping at Ranma Saotome. Nabiki casually looked up from her magazine on the living room sofa and stared, then scrubbed her eyes to make sure the anomaly wasn’t simply a hallucination. Given her extracurricular activities at school and bearing the label ‘Ice Queen’ the middle Tendo considered herself a professional and was rarely prone to swearing. She had an image to uphold, after all.

Today she made an exception.

“What the hell, Saotome?” Nabiki cocked her head, almost disbelieving what she was seeing to the point where she had set aside her fashion magazine in order to concentrate fully on the impossible sight that was impossible to miss. Twenty four hours ago, it was a pigtail. Twelve hours ago it had grown to the middle of her back. Now it was down to her backside. She also knew several girls that would be jealous at the sight, up to and including her sister who likewise stared openly at the martial artist. The middle Tendo was also jealous but not for the same reason. “If that’s a martial arts trick, there’s a killing to be made off of it.”

“Willin’ to take the gender curse that goes with it?” Ranma retorted dryly, effectively extinguishing the monetary gleam in Nabiki Tendo’s eyes and replacing it with one of uncertainty.... And some fear mixed in unless she missed her guess.

‘Thought so,’ Ranma confirmed mentally and kept her course for the bathroom.
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When the name Akane Tendo entered into Ranma’s mind, the description that was called forth with it was hardly one of grace and agility. The last month had indelibly etched a different definition into the redhead’s eyes concerning the youngest Tendo, one that contained such descriptives as ‘clumsy,’ ‘loud,’ ‘tomboyish’ and ‘braggart’ amongst others. The girl leapt to conclusions entirely too easily and had a streak of mistrust a kilometer wide that, when paired with her own curse, seemed to bring out the worst in the girl named her fiancee.

The latter part Ranma understood to degree since just having the curse for herself was by no means easy. Not that she would ever admit it to another living soul, but there were times when she could swear that the curse was playing tricks on her; making her see and do things slightly differently for no apparent reason what so ever other than its own twisted amusement. The martial artist would catch these errant patterns and force them back into alignment... Most of the time. Sometimes it was something innocent like stopping to admire a scenic backdrop or picturesque view. Other times it was in her face, like a full blown attack of the sweets.

Whatever the deviation, there was always something about it innocent or otherwise that unnerved that detached portion of her intelligence, and if it unnerved her, it undoubtedly unnerved others just to see a boy turn into a girl with a splash of water. People gave her the oddest looks and a handful had even lit the torches and distributed pitchforks looking to slay the witch. Akane tendo was apparently going to side with the latter of those she encountered, but she’d be damned if she took Tendo’s scorn lying down. Her supposed ‘fiancee’ had laid down the ground rules at their first meeting and if there was one thing Anything Goes had lots of, it was verbal sparring.

Regardless, Akane tendo was somehow defying most of the labels Ranma had placed on the black haired girl as she stepped gracefully across the dojo in reasonably quick and precise movements that were the antithesis of what Ranma had come to know.

It was also a marked sight better than how she had began her foray into the world of Rhythmic Gymnastics Wrestling.

‘Makes me wince just thinking about it,’ Ranma acknowledged as she watched Akane from the doorway of the dojo, twisting and pirouetting to the encouragement of her coach. The coach was Yuki, if she remembered the name correctly, one of the girls from the lot beatdown a week back. Since then she had performed a minor miracle, taking Akane from walking gymnastics disaster to somebody who could balance and twirl a ribbon at the same time without wrapping herself up like a mummy in the process. Ranma snickered at the thought.

That had actually happened.

The redhead watched as the girl twirled her ribbon on command and let it flow gracefully around her. She spun around ninety degrees, gave it a soft snap and pulled it back... And promptly tangled herself up in its coils. Akane squawked as she overbalanced and nearly fell to the mat, prompting Ranma to simply roll her eyes. ‘So much for grace and agility.’

“Can I please use the dojo now?” She drawled in a bored tone.

Akane casts a dire look toward the redhead who merely yawned. Yuki sent a withering glance in Ranma’s direction while attempting to extricate her friend from the ribbon’s confinement. She turned a charitable smile on her partner. “Look on the bright side...”

“There’s a bright side?”

Ranma dodged a throwing pin kicked in her direction by Akane. It skittered harmlessly out the door as her coach continued. “You only caught yourself up once this practice session!”

It was almost killing the Saotome to remain silent through that but she figured there was a chance they would hurry the hell up if she wasn’t antagonizing them at every step, much as they were all but begging her to do so. She remained silent and let the two work through Akane’s disappointment, where upon they were finally ready to leave. Both sniffed their disdain in passing the redhead, who in turn tapped her foot impatiently as they passed. Finally they were gone. Ranma was alone.

“Bout damn time,” she groused and all but hopped to the center of the dojo mat, putting experimental pressure on the tatami beneath her before releasing a pent up frustration with a deep breath. In. Out. Ranma closed her eyes, then exploded into motion seconds later. The kata she stepped through had been known since she was six and she paced herself evenly through the blurring punches and kicks, sliding across the mat in evasion against an invisible flow. It helped her relax. And concentrate on things...

...Things like what to do about the ceasefire ‘encouraged’ by their respective parents. It wouldn’t last, of course. No matter how old man Tendo insisted that they just needed time to get to know each other or how the fat Panda insisted he just shut up and take it. ‘Pervert, this. Pervert that,’ the redhead huffed in irritation. After the proverbial side by side ‘kiss and make up’ meeting it was more akin to a cold war than a cease fire though apparently even that was an improvement in their parent’s eyes.

‘Sure it is,’ Ranma hurmphed as she sprung up, twisted around mid air and took the head off her imaginary opponent. Much as she loathed the fact, she was here to stay for the next few months or as long as it took her father to find a dragon whisker through his contacts. ‘At least its not so ungodly long,’ she thought gratefully. The now neck length ponytail in place of the long unruly mane whipped through the air with her movements, reminding her of the days before the hair curse and before jusenkyo; when it was simply tied off at the base.

‘The good ol’ days,’ she revised mentally through a tuck and roll manuver, dodging down to defeat an imaginary attack. Another wry thought chuckled morbid amusement. ‘If you can count ten years on the road livin’ hand to mouth with a father as likely to curse me as he would sell me the good ol days.’

A loud crash interrupted any further musings she had on the matter and Ranma fell out of the practice, gracefully sliding to a stop even as the cacophony of fragile items being smashed met her ear from beyond the dojo walls. She stepped lightly over to the door and watched as a lithe figure wielding an oversized mallet backflipped gracefully out Akane’s second story window, followed shortly by the Tendo in question as she pursued the obviously female form. Ranma watched with interest as the girl silhouetted only in the moonlight- and wearing a leotard if she wasn’t mistaken -squared off against Akane in the middle of the properties courtyard.

‘Might just get interestin’,’ The redhead decided and leaned against the outside wall to watch. Akane charged, employing heavy handed chops and kicks while the other girl hopped nimbly out of range in spite of the hammer’s mass, occasionally taking a swipe for herself. Ranma’s tactical assessment of the newcomer continued while Akane netted little but air, then managed to kick the hammer out of her attacker’s grasp. It spun through a ballistic arc and imbedded itself into the grassy dirt less than a meter from Ranma’s feet with a solid thunk.

Akane re-engaged even as Ranma wondered if the kick had been accidental or on purpose, while the girl continued to melt just out of the range of her combinations. After another minute, she flipped back completely out of range, favoring Akane with a malicious smile. The face was hard to miss this time as the house lighting decisively illuminated it for the first time.

‘It’s that Black Petunia girl...?’

“So the rumors are true. You are good, aren’t you?” She stated haughtily, sizing up her opponent from range. Akane remained in a tense guarding stance and Kodachi merely laughed. “Very well then!”

With that Ranma watched as she flipped back towards her and landed precisely by the mallet, gathering it back in hand. The redhead’s presence hadn’t gone unnoticed and the leotard clad gymnast glanced casually back as if to question whether the redhead would be interfering or not. Ranma produced her own nonchalant shrug and the black haired girl smiled. Akane Tendo, however, did not.

“YOU’RE JUST GONNA STAND THERE?!” She all but screeched and Ranma sent a dull look back at her.

“Thought you wanted somebody ta ‘fight you for real’ Tendo?” Ranma motioned to the other girl as her case in point. “Well here she is.”

The youngest Tendo gritted her teeth but had little time to take Ranma to task as Kodachi returned her attention to their standoff, pulling out a black gymnastics ribbon. The long haired girl gave it a reflexive snap and twirled it around menacingly, releasing a blizzard of black rose petals at the girl. “I shall return!”

She jumped up and landed on the property wall, leaping into the night with insane laughter with Ranma and Akane staring after her. The redhead fingered one of the many black rose petals landing about and on her, arching an eyebrow with their study. “Girl sure knows how to make an exit.”

“She can’t just leave!” Akane squeaked indignantly at the rose petals surrounding her. “Who’s going to clean this up? And my room!”

Ranma pushed herself off the dojo wall and passed the youngest sister, emoting ambivalence. “Your rival this time. Not mine.”

With that, she left the simmering Tendo to her own device and returned to the house.

----


A mistake.

That was the excuse she was forced to lean back on as Ranma Saotome returned to the educational facility known as Furikan High School as a curvy redheaded female instead of a male. Of course that left scores of other unanswered questions for the teachers and classmates that had been exposed to his male aspect. Who was that? Why was he here? Was that your brother? Is he still engaged to Akane? What happened to your hair? Are you single? What’s your sizes? Is that bandanna’d boy your lover?

The number of people Ranma had to restrain herself from murdering outright was simply amazing.

All in all, it created one gigantic headache for the gender cursed martial artist who endured her first day back amongst the flurry of questions and speculation. Fortunately the class bell signalling the end of the day sounded through the halls, allowing her some measure of reprieve as she walked wearily off the property while a number of girls tried to happily engage her in conversation and gossip. She couldn’t exactly tell them off, so she weathered the storm the best she could with half hearted nods and one worded responses that feigned interest in whatever they were talking about. About the only saving grace in being the object of attention was that it gave the redhead an excuse to ignore Akane Tendo outright and even provided a physical barrier as to her on again off again scorn. Still, all the girl talk was absolutely killing her.

Fortunately, the unexpected arrival of a Bentley black stretch limo pulling up alongside their sidewalk changed that.

The eyes of over a dozen students tracked the limousine as it rolled to a stop next to Ranma and her trio of chattering girls, silencing them instantly as staring took the place of conversation. The door opened after a moment and a familiar face leaned out with a pleasant smile.

“Saotome-san, what a pleasant surprise.” The visage of Kodachi Kuno was unmistakable, prompting Ranma to blink. Apparently the girl was just as loaded as Tatewake and she began to wonder at their relationship, which would have been just the right age for brother and sister.

“What’s up, Ko-chan?” Ranma waved, taking up a subtle verbal offensive with the familiar form of address to counter the girl’s overt display of wealth. The black haired school girl blinked with her new title as if considering its implications for herself before the smile returned.

“If it would be agreeable, I would like to discuss the upcoming match with you,” Kodachi offered, inviting her inside the automobile with a gesture. Ranma glanced back and forth from the trio of girls around her and the promise of more gossip to the limo and Kodachi herself. In the end it was an easy decision to make.

“Catch ya later,” She waved to her companions and stepped into the limo. Three girls were left gawking at the Bentley as it started to drive off while Ranma settled into a sunken leather miniature couch beside Kodachi.

“I do so appreciate your acquiescence,” Kodachi began as she poured them both tea from a smallish table set before them from a silver pitcher into fine china porcelain that screamed money from every angle to the redhead. “I’m sure you are curious why I asked you to accompany me.”

Ranma merely shrugged, looking about the well appointed interior of the vehicle she was sitting in. Leather. Wood. State of the art electronics. She returned her attention to the black haired girl. “Well, ya mentioned the match and Tendo is your opponent. Don’t take much to put two and two together.”

“Quite,” Kodachi inclined her head in response, offering her the cup she had just poured. “And yet you are still agreeable to meet with me. I find this quite fascinating... And opportune.”

“Okay...?” Ranma let the word hang, hoping to receive a response that would get to the point.

“Simply put, I wish to know more concerning my opponent.” She continued as Ranma took her own cup of tea. The martial artist eyed the steaming liquid warily and set it aside while Kodachi explained. “You, of course, appear to be in a position to have this information. If you would indulge my questions, I would ensure your time is well compensated monetarily.”

Ranma merely leaned back into the couch with a smile. “Nah, don’t need no compensation. Might even be fun to watch.”

Kodachi blinked at the flat refusal of compensation, staring at the redhead. After a moment taken to reassemble her thoughts, she nodded. “Very well. If you may, elaborate on Tendo-san’s abilities; specifically those concerning rhythmic gymnastics?”

“Oh man, is that all?” Ranma rolled her eyes, answering in a near chuckle that confused the girl next to her. “This is going to be a pretty short trip if that’s what you’re looking for.”

The perplexed look continued from Kodachi. “Meaning...?”

“She’s all hand to hand. This Rhythmic Gymnastics thing is all about tools, right?” Ranma pressed, prompting Kodachi to nod slowly. “The moment you put something in her hand, she’ll screw it up herself.”

The St. Bacchus school girl tilted her head, trying to reconcile the fierce girl she had challenged over the weekend with the one from the redhead’s description. “But she seemed so... so skilled.”

“Only cuz you came at her with one-ton hammer,” Ranma elaborated, shaking her head in amusement. “If this were pure martial arts she could probably hold her own, but it ain’t. Besides, you’ve easily got her beat in the agility department from everything I’ve seen.”

Again, Kodachi couldn’t help but to blink with the unexpected compliment. “I... Thank you. Is there anything else I should know about Tendo-san?”

Ranma cocked her head, thinking on the matter. Akane’s most defining characteristic instantly came to mind. “She’s got a temper. A bad one. If you get in a pinch or just get bored, yank her chain. Do it enough and she’ll probably end up fouling herself out.”

Kodachi stared. After a moment, she couldn’t help but to smile at the remarkably underhanded and devious tactic that the redhead had causally chosen to impart for her benefit and without need for compensation. A wistful expression involuntarily overtook the Kuno’s features as she watched Ranma reach for the now cooler cup of tea sitting next to her. It was impossible to hope for since she hadn’t had one for so very long, but here and now with the grinning redhead... She stared in silent contemplation for another moment, but frowned as the martial artist brought the tea to her lips.

That simply wouldn’t do at all.

“I apologize,” The school girl leaned forward and plucked the tea cup from ranma’s fingers gently, setting it aside to Ranma’s confusion. “I can’t allow my guest to have cold tea, now can I?”

“Guess not?” Ranma shrugged, somewhat perplexed but uncaring for the most part.

“Of course not.” Kodachi returned certainly, but eyed the girl regardless. “Still, I cannot allow you to endure my questions without recompense.”

Ranma shook her head, smiling wryly. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll get my ‘recompense’ the day of the match.”

“Nonsense.” The girl dismissed the notion outright. “If you will not choose a form of repayment, I shall.”

Ranma crossed her arms, smirk on her face with the challenge. “Do your worst, then.”

“Your hair.” Kodachi gestured, prompting the redhead to stillness over the topic.

“My hair?”

“Indeed. it has been annoying me since your entrance herein,” Kodachi eyed the red crop and ponytail with some measure of disdain. “Please do yourself a favor and fire the barbarian who took a hatchet to those vibrant crimson strands. In fact, it is an oversight I will take upon myself to correct for you.”

“What?” Ranma was now flabbergasted. “You will?”

The black haired girl leaned off to the left and keyed a small button on the armrest closest to her. “Change of plans. Yukihama’s please.”

“Yes Mistress Kuno.” The intercom replied as Kodachi returned her attention to Ranma.

“Unless you have something more pressing scheduled?” The schoolgirl pressed, forcing Ranma to reconsider her position.

‘Hair cut or Tendo, tough choice.’ Ranma thought dryly. It didn’t help that Kodachi was also correct since she had been forced to cut it herself or avail herself to Kasumi’s Tender mercies. She shivered at the thought of the overly eager sister and her obsession with her hair. The only option after that was self inflicted injury. The remembrance solidified her course of action.

“I’m thinkin’ I can free up a slot.”

“Then I will take the opportunity to indulge as well,” Kodachi nodded with a friendly smile. “Together, as it were.”

“Don’t see why not.” Ranma shrugged, unaware of the hopeful depths in Kodachi’s words. The other thing she wasn’t aware of was Kodachi’s definition of haircut apparently included a full styling, makeover and spa treatment; nor could she bring herself to care as a masseuse’ elbow pressed into her left shoulder as she lay all but naked on a table

“Oh God, right there...” Ranma groaned as the elbow dug into the muscle group, eliciting a sigh of relief as she lolled face down on the table. Sure she was bare save only the towelled draped across her waist and yeah, Kodachi was similarly clad less than two meters away, but any concern she probably should have felt toward the fact had been washed away by the previous thirty minutes of pampering.

Granted getting to that point had been a rocky road, but Kodachi seemed to weather her obstinance with that annoyingly affluent ‘I know what’s best for you’ attitude of hers that Ranma couldn’t back down from. From there it was a slippery slope of acceptance; from the cut and styling to the pedicure and massage. She angled her head up slightly to catch sight of her partner, who seemed to be serenely enjoying her massage without the same theatrics. The redhead studiously avoided roaming the naked flesh of her upper torso that- even though it remained face down -had several delightful curves when viewed from the side.

“So he’s in hawaii now?” She resumed the conversation that had continued piecemeal since starting the massage. The girl laying beside her produced the barest of nods, opening her eyes a mere crack to respond.

“Rehabilitation,” Kodachi answered sluggishly, clearly enjoying the massage as much as Ranma. “They figured a less stressful environment and sun would do him good.”

“Here’s hoping,” Ranma agreed, taking a moment to indulge in another firm press on her spine before continuing with the topic that they strangely both had in common. “Wish they had sent mine off for rehabilitation.”

“I am quite surprised he has not been picked up by the authorities,” The school girl returned leisurely even as another portion of her intellect marvelled at just how much in common they shared. Mentally deficient father figures. Absent mothers. A socially deficient upbringing if she was being honest with herself...

“Oh, they’ve gotten him once or twice. Locals, mostly,” The redhead commented in a lazy drawl. “Lazy bastard or not, he’s still a damn good martial artist.”

“And thus continued to plague you as much as mine,” The black haired girl nodded slightly, then closed her eyes, inhaling sharply. “Yes. That’s good. Down a bit.”

Her masseuse complied and Kodachi was jelly in her hands as Ranma watched, having noted the similarities in their lives for herself. Kodachi’s mother had simply left with little notice and for even less reason, leaving their old man a basket case. ‘Would explain ol’ Tatewaki, I guess,’ Ranma theorized silently as she reconciled Kodachi’s own upbringing. And like Kodachi, her mother had been conspicuously absent throughout her childhood for reasons unknown. Ranma sighed internally. ‘And the old man still won’t give me a straight answer. Did she just up and leave like Kodachi’s mom?’

It was an emotional quagmire with no clear answer, so instead of dwelling on the weighty topic further she followed Kodachi’s example and let the hands on her back do their thing. Her worries over the dragon whisker, the curse, her amoral father and absentee mother all drifted away...

...for a little while, at least.

----

The day of the match. The Rhythmic Gymnastics match. Akane’s match.

Ho hum.

Ranma Saotome heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts could barely contain her boredom as Akane rushed to a fro, getting her gym bag and tools ready for the big day. For the redhead watching her, it was hardly big in any such way. In fact, it was a foregone conclusion that was almost painful to contemplate.

In went the ribbons. The collapsible hoops. The juggling pins.

While it was true the girl had gotten better in the last week before the big day, she still wasn’t nearly as graceful and agile as her opponent. Given a few weeks of intensive instruction with somebody better than the entire Furinkan Gymnastics team combined- herself for example -Akane might have stood a chance. If it were simply hand to hand, all Akane would have to do is corner the other girl and wallop her with that gorilla strength of hers. Sadly there were tools involved in this particular match and Ranma was certain they would be her downfall.

‘No physical touching, no hand to hand blows,’ Ranma recited the rules Kodachi had related to her during their spa treatment a week ago. All of the attacks would be indirect denying the Tendo of her greatest advantage: Physical strength. It prompted a small smile from Ranma as she watched the girl from the sofa busy herself in preperation. ‘Nice knowin’ ya, Tendo.’

“Are you going?”

Ranma’s attention was diverted from her thoughts to the next eldest Tendo just walking into the living room. She plopped down on the closest chair with her favorite fashion magazine, thumbing through the pages idly while waiting for a response. Ranma was happy to give her one.

“As if.” The martial artist shook her head, her attention returning to some show she had been in the process of channel surfing through. “Got better things to do.”

“Not going to support your fiancee, hmmm?” Nabiki Tendo prodded, earning an amused snort from Ranma.

“You mean the violent maniac over there?” Ranma turned Nabiki’s sister’s own words on her. “I’m sure ol’ gorilla hands will be fine without my support.”

“‘Ol Gorilla hands’ is my sister, Saotome,” Nabiki replied to the insult with an ever so slight edge of frost that did nothing to intimidate the Saotome.

“And when she can stop callin’ me a pervert I’ll cut her some slack,” Ranma shrugged then turned to ignore her in favor of the TV.

‘So much for the guilt angle,’ The middle Tendo conceded as any moral high ground she could bring to bear evaporated thanks to her sister’s own behavior. Instead, she went for subtlety. “So about this match...”

“Hmm?” Ranma responded absently as she flipped through the channels.

“I think my sister has a pretty good shot at this, don’t you?” Nabiki broached conversationally and eagerly awaited the answer from what she considered an authority on such matters. Ranma glanced back at her as if to contemplate the question herself and after a moment, answered just like she had hoped.

“Oh yeah, it’s in the bag.” Ranma replied absently then tossed the remote back to couch as her interest in the TV waned. She hopped up and stretched, talking to nobody in particular. “Going out.”

Nabiki watched the redhead depart from the living room and once out of sight let a shark’s smile slip back onto her lips. ‘Thanks for the payday, Saotome.’

If the middle sister was congratulating her luck, Ranma was cursing hers as she had apparently chosen the very same time to leave as the youngest Tendo. The pair stared at one another in awkward silence for a moment before Akane’s eyes narrowed on the martial artist suspiciously.

“You had better not be following me.”

“Cuz you’re the center of my universe, is that it?” Ranma retorted back with a healthy amount of sarcasm, prompting a sniff of contempt from Akane. She then took it upon herself to open the door, leading the way out into the clear afternoon daylight.

“And when are you going to change back into a guy anyway? It’s getting creepy.” Akane asked with some measure of annoyance, and while being stuck in his female aspect annoyed her as well, she wasn’t about to admit it or even bother with why she was still a girl.

“You ain’t still jealous of all this are ya, Tendo?” Ranma asked rhetorically, gesturing to the shapley package that was ‘all this’ She was instantly reward as the girl spun around on her with the gym bag swinging.

“I AM NOT JEALOUS OF YOU, PERVERT!” She screamed, hoping to nail the dodging martial artist with bag. Several swings later Ranma had taken the lead through the Tendo courtyard and out the gates where both stopped short, staring at a familiar black Bentley parked on the curb.

...Familiar to Ranma, at least.

A chauffeur standing just outside the Bentley spied them and adjusted his sunglasses as if to further confirm the identity of the pair. “Saotome, Ranma?”

Ranma cocked a curious look at the overly official looking driver, but responded to her name regardless. “Yeah?”

“Mistress Kuno sends her regards,” He bowed formally for her and opened the door. “She has requested I convey you to the match personally.”

“WHAT?!” Akane blurted at what she saw as overt betrayal. She balled her fist, turning back on Ranma. “I thought you said you weren’t going?!”

“I wasn’t,” Ranma shrugged but took to the door regardless. “But a limo’s a limo.” Ranma paused just outside the threshold, as if trying to remember something then reconsidered, looking back at the girl. “Wanna come along?”

“Of course not!” Akane bit back furiously. “Why would I take Kodachi’s limo to Kodachi’s school for a match against Kodachi?!”

Ranma shrugged as her ill-thought peace offering fell on the rocks. “Suit yourself.”

With that, Ranma climbed fully into what looked to be a luxuriously appointed interior from Akane’s angle. The chauffeur sealed the girl inside seconds later and returned to the driver’s side without a word. The car itself pulled away only seconds later leaving the youngest Tendo alone and simmering.

-----

Whip-SNAP!

Ranma winced as another blow landed home on the girl involuntarily named his, now her, fiance. Kodachi jumped out of range of the girl’s reprisal easily enough, dodging expertly out of the way of a pin Akane Tendo was attempting to use as a cudgel. Even as St. Bacchus’ star gymnast flipped through her escape arc, she still manage to guide the ribbon through the air as if it were a living entity, snapping the Furinkan stand-in painfully another three more times before landing on the other side of the ring.

“Another four hit combo by the Black Rose!” The female announcer yelled from ringside, her voice echoing throughout the stadium where it was met by raucous cheering. “Kodachi Kuno is simply dominating this match!”

“Tendo-san has managed to endure Kuno-san’s offensive so far, but it really looks like she felt that one, Yoko!” Her partner commented as Akane circled her opponent warily, looking for an opening. “How much more can she possibly take?”

“Pins!” Akane called back to her corner and her support contingent tossed her three more to replace the discarded one.

“Looks like Tendo-san is planning something...” The announcer continued as the crowd anticipated the promise of more action from the leotard clad gladiators. “AH! There she goes!”

Three pins flew through the air as Akane threw them directly at Kodachi, then charged in behind her, pulling her own ribbon out from behind her back. The light blue streamer unfurled like a whip even as her initial attack met resistance in the form of three sharp snaps. Kodachi’s own ribbon deflected each pin in succession and then pulled the black streamer around, meeting Akane’s attack in kind. Both snapped midway between the pair as they clashed. This time it was a rapid machine gun staccato that met the ears of the audience as the pair furiously exchanged blows.

While the action was certainly entertaining enough from Ranma’s special ringside seat, there continued to be a single overriding problem with the match itself that she had already summed up in three words: Too damn predictable.

Their expressions alone were all too telling for the martial artist as they tried to ensnare one another with the ribbons. Akane wore a mask of fierce determination... And exertion. She was fighting just to maintain parity according to Ranma’s expert eye, while Kodachi simply watched with arrogant amusement. She controlled the match and knew it, which made her victory inevitable; regardless of how it played out.

‘The personal attendant was a nice touch though,’ She decided, glancing back to the politely smiling lady wearing a maid’s outfit. “Got another one of those sandwiches?”

The maid, Hiroko, merely smiled and nodded, pulling the silver cover off the platter she had been holding to reveal the ever so delicately made sandwich , which in turn promptly disappeared into the Saotome’s mouth wholesale as if hours of consideration hadn’t gone into its visual impact and aesthetic appeal. By the time the redhead attention returned to the match, Kodachi had pressed Akane back to her own corner though both combatants’ ribbons were in tatters. Kodachi merely smiled, discarding her own.

“Resilient, perhaps, but it it is time you learn from your betters,” She advised arrogantly. Her corner took the que and tossed her a pair of throwing pins. She caught both easily, never taking her eyes off the Tendo. “Now witness the secret technique of the Black Rose... The Blow of a Thousand Hands!”

The ribbon in Akane’s hand wasn’t nearly enough as a flurry of blurring clubs descended upon and she intercepted maybe half of the strikes directed at her person. The other half hurt. The Furikan gymnast tried to apply her martial arts to the match and roll with the blows, but even so, Kodachi was bound to get several solid hits, and she did just that. Akane Tendo retreated , rolling out of the attack to pick up a pair of the spent clubs she had employed only minutes earlier in desperate defense.

“That’s incredible!” One of the students exclaimed as Akane was pushed back across the ring even with the aid of her new weapon. “It’s like she’s using twenty clubs!”

‘That’s because she is using twenty clubs,’ Ranma observed from the edge of her seat now that special techniques were finally coming into play to make things more interesting. Twenty clubs or not, that didn’t make the technique any less fascinating given the skill required to actually juggle twenty clubs fast enough to use as a melee attack. The martial artist watched with an expert eye, breaking the technique down piece by piece as Kodachi continued to press her opponent back to the Furinkan corner.

‘Won’t be long now,’ She decided, instinctively knowing the match was winding down short of some last minute save by Akane. The youngest Tendo obviously lacked the necessary experience, or as a substitute, ingenuity and skill to rally against the St. Bacchus girl.

“Yield, Tendo-san!” Kodachi demanded as if to confirm Ranma’s hypothesis. She paused in her offensive, pointing a single pin downrange at the long haired girl like a sword. Akane was panting heavily and favoring her left arm, leaning off to the side in obvious pain. If the Kuno felt any pity for her, it showed neither in her face or words. “Yield or suffer ultimate humiliation.”

“Like... Like heck I will!” Akane managed between breaths, prompting the Black Rose to favor her with a bored look; one mirrored by Ranma who simply shook her head from ringside and out of the youngest Tendo’s sight.

“Tendo-san has refused to give in!” The announcer yelled into her mic with the blow by blow narrative for the audience. “But can she take much more?”

“And what humiliation The Black Rose planning?!” her partner wondered aloud as the pair faced off.

“So be it.” Kodachi declared arrogantly and stepped forward. “I shall brand you... With this!”

Click!

Akane braced for impact as Kodachi blurred forward, but the punishing blow she had expected was replaced by a light metallic sound instead, then a weight on her wrist. She blinked looking at Kodachi’s cold smile then looked down at her wrist where a steel cuff now resided.

Attached to the cuff was a chain.

Attached to the chain was a pig.

A little black piglet to be exact.

Akane stared at the black piglet and the yellow bandanna it wore while the piglet stared back with wide eyes. A noticeable twitch to Akane’s left cheek even though the rest of her face remained expressionless. The pig, however, seemed to take that as a bad sign and began to squirm, seemingly desperate to escape its own entrapment.

“What a statement by the Black Rose,” The female announcer shook her head with pity. “Equating her opponent to a helpless piglet!”

“And she doesn’t look too happy about it!” Her counterpart concluded, adjusting her glasses to get a better view of the girl.

“YOU.” The youngest Tendo growled, staring death into the terrified piglet. It redoubled its effort to break free while Ranma’s interest in the match suddenly renewed.

“Oops.” Ranma mumbled to herself, knowing the potential dire implications of Kodachi’s actions even if she herself did not. “Bad move, Ko-chan...”

Sadly Kodachi was too far away to hear the redhead’s missive and even if she had, there was no way she could have possibly know the significance of the forced pairing she had inflicted upon her opponent. Instead, she merely smiled, dangling a small skeleton key tied to a black ribbon before Akane’s eyes. “I am feeling magnanimous, however. Admit defeat and I shall remove the blemish from your person.”

Akane Tendo’s fist balled in anger as she ground her teeth down. A fiery red aura sprang to life around the youngest Tendo sister and she began to swing the pig in a menacing arc. Kodachi blinked at the unexpected reaction, staring at her then glancing at Ranma. The martial artist warned her off with a subtle shake of the head. It was also her only warning before Akane’s battle cry echoed through the stadium, launching herself at the St. Bacchus representative at high speed.

Armed with that split second’s worth of warning, Kodachi jumped back as Akane cleaved the very air she stood with her improvised pig-born ball and chain weapon. A terrified ‘squeeee!’ accompanied its passing as she pressed her attack, spinning the piglet at high speed like a nunchaku. Kodachi sidestepped the attacks again and tried to counterattack. The forward thrust of her pin met solid resistance as Akane deflected it with the blurring black swine, eliciting several painful yelps with each successful deflection. Now it was Kodachis’ turn to be pushed across the ring under the girl’s renewed assault.

“She’s a beast!” The female announcer roared as the action suddenly exploded in the ring once more. “Akane Tendo simply won’t go quietly into the night!”

“And lord only knows the trauma that’s being inflicted upon that poor piglet!” The other announcer could only stare at Akane’s ferocity, then glanced off to matches’ judging panel, wondering aloud. “Is the use of a piglet as a weapon even valid, let alone humane?!”

Three judges raised their green flags as one to make the call. “Valid!”

Kodachi flipped back to the corner adjacent to her own and Akane followed, splitting the very air with her improvised weapon just short of the mark each time, but lunged in as kodachi landed on the post. The Black Rose jumped up and over Akane just in time and though the post took the blow for Kodachi with a painful ‘Oink!’ the Tendo whirled around before her combatant could resume her offensive. Kodachi was once more thrown on the defensive as the swine barrage continued in a blur, forcing her to change tactics. She took a precious moment to glance back to her corner to call out the order. “Hoop!”

The momentary distraction was all it took and in the split second it took to return her attention on Akane, she found the girl airborn in a high leap that positioned her for a devastating overhead pig hammering. Time seemed to slow for that second as the stunned Kodachi wondered if she could withstand the unguarded blow from the mask of fury descending on her. The moment collapsed and the blow fell.

“Squeak!”

The entire stadium was silent. Both girls blinked, staring at one another first, then the piglet attatched to Akane’s wrist. It was out cold. Not only was it out cold, but it had failed to produce any sort of crippling attack. It had, in fact, simply bounced off Kodachi’s head like a stuffed toy. Both girls eyes were inevitably drawn back to one another and Kodachi, who still had her pins in hand favored the now insufficiently armed Tendo with a malicious smile. She began to twirl the clubs menacingly.

“I suggest you forfeit, Tendo-san.”
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Kodachi Kuno stared. Her head was, in fact, on a proverbial swivel as she took in the sights around her; from the brightly colored wall decorations featuring comically animated characters, to the long glass counter and colorful frozen delights inside. People meander about unable to decide which flavor they would partake in while Kodachi herself was unable to decide what to make of this decidedly new experience... It was, after all, the first time she had set foot in an icecream parlor.

“Tell me about it,” Ranma chuckled, correctly interpreting the black haired girl’s odd expression. “Believe it or not there was a day back when where I wouldn’t even set foot in a place like this on principle alone.”

“It’s so... so...” The Kuno sister struggled for the word, finally happening upon it as she stared at the pimply teenage male clerk behind the counter. “It’s so common.”

Ranma silently acknowledged the fact that icecream parlors like this one were in abundant supply and shrugged, unknowingly missing the thrust of Kodachi’s comment. “Maybe, but this one’s got a pretty mean banana split.”

“But why are we here again?” The black haired girl wondered, still unsure of whether or not she should even be seen in such a place.

“Victory celebration, duh,” Ranma rolled her eyes and left the small booth they were sitting in. When she returned five minutes later, two banana splits were in hand; one of which she slid across to Kodachi. The St. Baccus star stared at the multi-colored creation as Ranma elaborated with a quirked smile. “‘Cides, I can’t just let you cart me around in a limo and take ringside seats without some ‘recompense’, right?”

That explanation left Kodachi’s brain awhirl. ‘Victory celebration?’ The words echoed through her mind. Nobody celebrated her victories. Well, at least nobody she either hadn’t paid in advance or feared her outright, and that was pretty much everybody. While she was far from certain of her social footing in the here and now with this redhead, some part of her instinctively knew they had moved beyond any facade of recompense into something she had little experience in. She was willing to try, however.

...Desperate to try, in fact.

“I think I would like that... Ma-chan,” Kodachi replied carefully, testing the waters she now found herself immersed in. The Kuno sibling watched Ranma’s reaction carefully, observing her note the title with a curious look before shrugging.

“I won’t lie to ya though,” Ranma commented with a secretive look, gesturing to the icecream treat. “I’m a fiend for sweets like this.”

Kodachi eyed the redhead as she dug in, sectioning off a generous portion of banana and icecream to be savored. It invariably drew her attention to her own, but with more introspective accompanying its study. She took her spoon in hand and partitioned her own delicate slice of the dessert to be consumed. Banana saccharin flavor exploded in her mouth in a way that left her blinking.

“Gonna have to play with that Blow of a Thousand Hands for myself,” The redhead continued her running commentary on the days events. “I could probably match all twenty blow for blow with a single pin, but throwin all twenty in a single attack was pretty impressive any way you look at it.”

“I am quite dismayed that I never had the opportunity to employ the special tools.” The St Baccus girl nearly sighed with the recollection. “It did make for a spectacularly boring match, did it not?”

“Knew that goin’ in. Tendo’s decent if you get her in hand to hand, but a match like this? Maybe it’ll sink that she’s still got a ways to go.” Ranma shrugged with the matter of fact, then fixed her with a curious look. “Where did ya get the pig, anyway?”

“I found it wandering about the school yards. Fitting symbolism, if I must say,” Kodachi smiled charitably, then posed her own question to the redhead. “But Tendo-san’s reaction... You knew.”

“Lets just say that she dislikes that particular pig.” Ranma chuckled at the inside joke. “I’d have warned ya if I knew you’d actually stumble across ol’ P-chan.”

“The warning you were able to provide was quite sufficient in lieu of foreknowledge,” The Kuno sibling inclined her head graciously while reflecting on the fact. Another thing freely given between them. It was... nice. “Though how a piglet would produce such a violent reaction is beyond me.”

“He ain’t your ordinary piglet,” Ranma sniffed with obvious disdain. “I’ll have to tell you the story sometime.”

“Then perhaps I shall feed him to Mister Turtle next he falls into my possession,” Kodachi returned, picking up on her friend's mood. She then produced a sly smile with the redhead’s overt confusion concerning the turtle in question. “A story I will have to tell you sometime.”

“PIGTAILED GIRL!” The cry of joy followed the ring of the establishment’s doorbell, all but causing Ranma to choke on her next bite at the well recognize male voice. “How fortunate it was that I should happen to spy--”

THUNK.

Tatewake Kuno’s proclamation of love and his leaping advance to her seat were cut off by Ranma’s outstretched leg and the foot painfully applied to his face. Ranma took her bite regardless of flailing kendoist stuck to the other end of her leg. After another moment of trying to reach her in spite of the impediment, the upper classman’s brain kicked in and he pulled back and away. He opened his mouth to continue but she interrupted regardless.

“Save it Kuno. Not interested.”

Kodachi stared at the girl and then the boy, cocking her head in an attempt to reconcile the meeting. She turned back to the redhead. “You know my brother, Ma-chan?”

“If constantly gettin’ hit on then beating him down counts as knowing, then yeah, guess so.” Ranma shrugged matter of factly and took another bite of her banana split while the kendoist’s head jerked back and forth from sister to redhead.

“Indeed, I thought he was fixated on another?” Kodachi questioned as if her brother wasn’t less than a meter away and wondering just how his sister had involved herself with his love interest. His other love interest.

“Yeah, that was Tendo too.” The martial artist shook her head in feigned disappointment.

“Truly?” The Black Rose’s head jerked to stare at her brother as if she couldn’t comprehend such an outcome. “How low are you willing to sink, brother of mine?”

“My sister! The pig tailed goddess!” Kodachi’s elder brother finally managed a word in edgewise and used it to express his incredulity. “How should such a confluence of events transpire that thoust are acquainted?!”

“Well unlike you, Ko-chan here isn’t a head-case,” Ranma commented with an offhanded gesture towards her table partner who in turn nodded with the complement.

“Perhaps you should take the subtle hint, brother,” Kodachi teased. “Ma-chan is not interested and you would do well not to pursue the low stock of the Tendo line. Surely the outcome of the match is enough to make you reconsider.”

“Nay!” Tatewake declared, folding his arms. “Her loss at your hands merely confirms the preeminence of house Kuno!”

“Yeah, and the two timing thing?” Ranma inserted dryly, only to watch the upperclassmen pump his fist.

“If the heavens gift me with two such exquisite flowers, who am I to turn down their blessing!” With that proclamation, Kuno lunged again and received the remainder of the redhead’s banana split in the face, sending him blindly tumbling to the tile floor as the parlor’s customers watched.

Ranma shook her head with disappointment, glancing back to Kodachi as she got up out of her seat. “Mind if I kick your brother’s ass now?”

“As long as you do no lasting harm,” She nodded and the popping of her friend’s knuckles met her ear. “He is family after all.”

Ranma smirked back. “I’ll be real gentle.”

---------

For Ranma Saotome, heir to the anything goes school of martial arts, a dojo had one purpose and one purpose only: It was a structure one used for the betterment of the art. As such, anytime one found Ranma in a dojo, he- in this case she -was usually engaged in some martial arts related activity. Katas, kicks, punches or the occasional smack down between her and her father were all within the realm of possibility, but there was one that Ranma found herself rarely engaged in...

...Silent introspection.

The black haired boy or redheaded girl was rarely seen to be stationary within the confines of the dojo and rarely staring at the tatame in thoughtful contemplation. This evening as the sun set unseen beyond the walls of the Tendo dojo, one would happen upon this rare event if they were they present, but nobody was. Ranma was alone with only her thoughts for company and those weighty thoughts were dominated by a single question.

“Would you like to be friends?”

Ranma let her eyes wander around the dojo without really seeing. Ranma indeed would have liked to be friends simply because she had seen so few of them in her life. Of course, she had known a few here and there, but those potential relationships had always been cut short by life. He and his father were always on the move and whatever acquaintances she made were invariably thrown to the wind weeks or if she was lucky, months down the road when it was time to leave.

Again.

‘Ucc-chan,’ The hazy memory floated to the surface, causing Ranma a twinge of remorse. He had been yet another casualty on the long road to martial arts mastery like many others. Ryoga, until recently, had been another. Ranma sighed to herself as the question dominated his thoughts yet again.

“Would you like to be friends?”

This time it took on a distinctly feminine tone, one reproduced directly from memory. The vision of a friendly smile accompanied it causing a corresponding frown from Ranma. Akane had offered and she had been quick to accept. Friendship was precious. Rare. Fragile. The latter was a lesson learned over countless breaks on the road, but Akane was the first to purposely take a ball peen hammer to it.

Ranma produce a derisive snort with the memory. It wasn’t as if she was a girl after all. She wouldn’t go crying to momma because Tendo wasn’t playing nice. She didn’t need the girl’s friendship, or anybody else's’ for that matter. Friendship had always taken a backseat to the Art and Akane Tendo had shown her there was no reason to deviate from that pattern. Friendship was just another painful distraction a long, literal road of disappointment.

“Would you like to be friends?”

And yet, maybe... Just maybe it was still possible from the very person that hadn’t asked. Somehow it had just happened. A back lot fight. A limo ride. The massage. A gymnastics brawl. A banana split. None of it had been asked for by either participant but somehow the question had been answered by a name like the one she had so long ago as a child.

“Ma-chan?” Ranma mouthed softly, feeling out the new nickname for herself. It had a slightly humorous feel to it, one that only friends would share. There was, of course, a huge, potentially fatal fracture in that friendship and it went by the name of Jusenkyo. It had killed anything she felt for the seemingly cute girl known as Akane Tendo and eventually this fledgling friendship with Kodachi would endure the same test. Would it die off in the same violent manner?

‘Probably,’ Ranma thought dolefully, yet there was a spark of hope that persisted in spite of the odds. A friend. A real friend. One she wouldn’t leave a few months down the road or whenever her old man found it convenient. She thought solemnly on the matter, indulging in a fraction of self-pity whether she realized it or not. For now, there was no male Ranma Saotome. There wouldn’t be one for some time. For now she was just a girl...

...with a friend?

Of course, she’d have to tell Kodachi sooner than later. The longer she let the curse remain a secret, the harder it would be on her latter. Akane had actually done her a favor by showing her true self so quickly. It made for a clean break even if the girl’s temper was anything but ‘clean’. She’d best handle Kodachi the same--

The scrape of the dojo door opening drew Ranma’s attention to another Tendo entering. Ranma watched Nabiki merely loiter in the doorway with a dour expression on her face, staring at her person as if the act were likely to instill fear into her heart somehow. Ranma merely stared back and after several minutes of standoff, Nabiki finally spoke.

“You owe me, Saotome.”

“And how do you figure that?” Ranma arched a red eyebrow, not seeing rhyme or reason to her declaration.

“My sister lost to Kodachi and I lost big because of you.” She began ticking the points off on her fingers, as if adding damning evidence to a case. “You said she was going to win, so I’m going to make sure you make up for the loss.”

The guffing laugh surprised her.

“Are you kidding? Akane never had a chance!” Ranma was beside herself with what Nabiki had just proposed. “Your sister should have never written checks her ass couldn’t cash and neither should you.”

“But you said it was in the bag, Saotome!” Nabiki stomped, her temper rising at the boy-girl’s flippant attitude.

“It was,” The redhead shrugged, suddenly realizing the thrust of her questioning early in the day. Ranma was happy to clarify her statement with an arrogant smirk. “It was in Ko-chan’s bag. Don’t blame me for the corners you cut.”

“Listen you martial arts jock, I... I...” Nabiki’s fury suddenly sputtered as a key piece of information was plucked from the girl’s last sentence. It left her blinking at Ranma. “What do you mean, Ko-chan?”

“Go pump somebody else for information, Tendo,” Ranma’s patience with the girl expired and she brushed past her since she obviously wasn’t going to move out of the dojo’s only exit. “‘Cuz between your pictures and your sister’s temper tantrums I’m startin to get tired of the way the Tendos treat their ‘guests’.”

With that parting shot and the rough physical contact of her passing, the redhead was gone out into the fading dusk light, leaving her alone, mind whirling at what had just happened. ‘Ko-chan,’ the familiarity of the title echoed through her brain like a gunshot. It implied things. Bad things. The first bad thing it implied was that they were friends on some level. ‘Friends with a psychopath,’ Nabiki amended as she recalled Kodachi’s defining personality traits. Taken further, it meant that Ranma had access to wealth and influence, another bad thing if leveraged against her own activities.

Then there was the third bad thing, perhaps worse than the other two... She had been played. She had been fed bad information by a friend of the very person her sister was matched against; a person she obviously stood no chance of winning against. It was a fact that Nabiki probably would have uncovered for herself if she had dug any deeper, but she hadn’t. Not only that, but Saotome knew she hadn’t and used that weakness against her.

In short, she just got taken to school.

“Sonofabitch...” Nabiki murmured as the full import of Ranma’s intentional blindside settled down around her. Part of her was furious for having lost so much money. The other part of Nabiki could only blame herself. She had tried to get something for nothing against somebody she had clearly underestimated. ‘Martial Arts Jock my ass,’ the Ice Queen revised bitterly. The boy or girl or whatever she was was definitely smarter than she looked and had connections with money, facts that forced a concerned Nabiki to revise her estimation of Ranma Saotome...

...She was quite clearly a very dangerous individual.

-------

Blood was something the martial Arts prodigy known as Ranma Saotome was well familiar with and as such was more or less inured to its sight. She had trained hard over the last ten years; hard enough to see all manner of cuts, scrapes and open wounds. It was the proverbial price of doing business for a martial artist of her caliber, especial one trained by Genma Saotome, a man renowned for sloth and corner cutting. Injuries at the hand of such negligence were inevitable, but ranma Saotome took them and the occasional bloodletting in stride.

Bloodletting from the crotch, on the otherhand was a bit more disconcerting.

Even that wouldn’t exactly be a precedent for the redhead now trudging grumpily down the hallway with a bed sheet in hand. There had more than a couple times when his father had landed a good sucker punch to the gut during their sparring.

‘Feel like crap,’ Ranma sighed, sliding the bathroom door open as her sleepy brain tried to derive the source of the current bloodletting. her last spar with the old man hadn’t landed that sort of blow and her own katas were quite that intense. She sat down in front of the sink, barely noting the hot water spigot and turned the cold up. ‘Maybe I pulled somethin’...’

Something definitely felt like it was strained, so she took the symptoms at face value and began to clean the sheet up, then discarded her own clothing to help herself. The cold water wasn’t welcome, but it did help wash the sleep away. The uncomfortable squirming in her gut remained, however.

‘Just can’t catch a break in this house,’ Ranma groused, her mood souring as she finished up the cold rinse and proceeded to ring the sheet out. Ranma ignored the off pink water that dribbled out and tossed the damp linen toward the corner hamper. Ranma got up and found her clothes for the day and slid them on thoughtlessly as another portion of her mind dwelled on the broken inner workings of the Tendo household, irritating her further.

It would unfortunately be irritation that genma Saotome would receive in its fullest measure only minutes later as they confronted one another in the hall.

“Apologize?!” The bald father figure reeled against the measure of scorn in her voice as her tone picked up heat and intensity. “There ain’t no goddamn way I’m apologizin’ to Tendo!”

Genma tired to open his mouth to insert a word in edgewise, but she denied him outright. Her blue eyes flashed crystal death as she continued unabated, jabbing a thumb at her person angrily. “She lost the goddamn match, not me and she’s got the nerve to mope around the place for the last week like it's somehow my fault?!”

The patriarch’s mouth opened once more, but his son turned daughter was far from finished.

“Maybe if little miss primadonna can admit she ain’t God’s gift to martial arts,” Ranma huffed, putting her hands on her hips definitely. “I mean seriously! This is the way they treat their guests? I’m still waitin’ for my apology for all the crap she’s been calling me from the moment I stepped foot in this place. Pervert this, deviant that! If that ain’t enough, I got her sister sellin’ candid photos of me like this and the eldest callin’ me half girl like I’m some sort of freak show! And you want me engaged to these people...?!”

Genma didn’t even bother this time.

“Fat. Fucking. Chance.” The martial artist spat vehemently. “And what the hell is your problem anyway? You couldn’t think of a better way to pull this stunt than springin’ all on us at the last minute? Real smooth, old man. Real smooth. Cuz if you can’t find a dragon whisker soon, I think I’m gonna go out and look for one myself and I leave this bad idea way behind.”

The elder martial artist stared at his panting neo-daughter carefully as if she were rabid and liable to bite again if provoked. After a few minutes of silence under her smoldering stare, he decided to carefully clarify his question.

“What’s for breakfast again, boy?”

“Hmmf. Rice and miso,” She answered gruffly, as if the question had offended her in some way. “Goin’ out.”

Genma Saotome wisely chose to just let her go, watching her round the corner and hearing the door slam seconds later. Normally he would have taken her to task for such backtalk but the situation scarily resembled those he had witnessed many times over... Just not in the last ten years.

Outside, Ranma Saotome breathed a sigh of relief upon leaving the confines of the Tendo household. It was somehow more stressful and claustrophobic than usual and just being out in the open air made a world of difference. She was just starting down the path leading off the property when a door closed behind her, followed by a presence joining her side. She glanced left and found Nabiki Tendo falling in step beside her.

“Didn’t we go through this last week?” Ranma decided to preempt any claim the Tendo was about to make since the offensive was hers for the taking. “I ain’t feelin none too charitable right now, so why don’t you go take your photo hobby somewhere else.”

Nabiki continued to simply walk beside her until they had reached the courtyard gate where Ranma stopped, staring at Nabiki. “What?”

“Rough morning?” Nabiki simply asked and earned another penetrating stare. Deciding small talk would get her nowhere, she decided on a more direct tack. “I made a mistake last week.”

“And I made a mistake three weeks ago,” Ranma commented dryly and began walking again. They crossed out onto the public sidewalk and began to walk the block. Oddly enough, neither knew exactly where they were going.

Nabiki continued her study of the redhead, who in turn was doing her best to ignore her. She broke the ice once again. “I’d like to propose a truce.”

A truce implied they were at war according to Ranma’s world view, something that didn’t to fit at first glance until she took a second, recalling her own frustrations with the plainly dysfunctional family as a whole. It wasn’t quite a war but it was close. ‘A cold war,’ Ranma decided and finally acknowledged the Tendo’s presence.

“Such as?”

“Professional courtesy, for starters,” Nabiki offered now that the redhead wasn’t completely closed to her presence. “Something I should have extended you last week. For that, I apologize.”

Ranma gave the girl a searching look and wanted to accept the apology outright, but between her and her sister, it just wouldn’t come out of her mouth like that. Instead, something else did. “I’ll think about it.”

The well had been poisoned enough to where Nabiki wasn’t expecting much better, so she merely nodded. “I understand, of course. I would also like to extend an olive branch as it were in order to maintain a working relationship between us.”

“And what’s that?” The martial artist asked with only mild interest, as if her mind were somewhere else.

“I’ve taken care of the--”

“RANMA!” The accented female voice rang out to interrupt Nabiki and she was just looking around to find its source when Ranma yanked her back hard as a large plate metal ball landed where she had just been about to step. Concrete shattered with the impact but it was the second metal ball arcing horziontally for her head that occupied the majority of the Tendo’s attention.

Where she was frozen in shock, the martial artist at her side was not. Ranma ducked under its arc, pioting up on one foot and using the other leg to snap the chui at the neck. The ball tumbled harmlessly away and when nabiki had finally recovered her wits she found the redhead facing off again a girl. ‘Chinese,’ She wondered at the features and the clothing. Her elaborate lavender hair swayed with the light breeze, but for all her exotic beauty, she did not look happy. At all.

“Shampoo?!” Ranma exclaimed, pointing at the girl wildly. “Just what are you doing in Japan, anyway?!”

Chinese girl. Ranma wears chinese clothing. Spent more than two years in china. ‘A love interest?’ nabiki speculated. It was speculation she would have to revise with the girl’s next words.

“I KILL!” Shampoo discarded the broken shaft of her second chui and lunged at Ranma with the first. On any other day, the redhead might have distracted the homicidal amazon and simply ran off like countless times before. After all, any stand up duel would mean stopping the girl in some permanent way since she didn’t play nice. She played with swords, spears and bone crushing spheres of death. Today, however, Ranma wasn’t in the mood for it.

“I ain’t in the mood for it today, Shampoo!” One such sphere blew by the side of her head, kicking up her ponytail with the wind and she truly wasn’t in the mood for ‘it’ or the spears or the swords. Not only was she up to her eyeballs in curses and Tendos, Ranma had now been a girl for over three weeks straight thanks to the former.

To say her female biology was finally taking its toll on her was a vast understatement.

Ranma profiled left and evaded another strike, then stepped nimbly back out of the footsweep that followed. The redhead’s mood worsened. “I’m warnin’ ya...”

Her warning went unheeded as the lavender haired chinese girl pressed her attack. Ranma neatly evaded another combination, prompting a third when her patience finally expired. Ranma met the next chui swipe head on, stopping its forward momentum with a single hand and a dire glare.

“You’re the only person...” She then gripped the ball with her other hand and literally yanked it out of shampoo’s grasp. “...I just can’t...” Sufficiently disarmed, the irate girl threw the metal sphere to the earth and stomped hard, imploding the weapon outright in an amazing display of strength. ...Deal with!”

Ranma pulled her foot out of the destroyed weapon and kicked it off to the side as if it were little more than a broken toy. Shampoo stood fast against the redhead’s now boiling temper. “"Y'know, I let somebody else run around and obsess over revenge for a while when I shoulda just kicked their ass in the first place... so better late than never, right?"

Shampoo’s answer was a sword that tore across the intervening space in a swipe that would have ventilated the Saotome’s neck if it had connected. Ranma leaned back, letting it pass mere centimeters away before charging in as it passed. The hilt fell from her hands only seconds after deploying the weapon as Ranma chopped at her wrist and executed a reverse spin to evade the knife she had pulled with her right hand.

Shampoo was caught completely flat-footed in that moment as the redhead had never actively sought to engage her. Disarm, evade and run like a coward had always been the foreigners’ tactical doctrine up until now; a tactical doctrine she had apparently chosen to abandon. It also left the lavender haired Amazon completely unprepared and by the time the Amazon had realized her miss, Ranma’s leg had completed its rotation to line up perfectly with Shampoo’s kneecap. To her credit, the girl merely grunted her pain at its displacement, though it merely paved the way for more pain. With the amazon’s guard terminally compromised, Ranma was allowed unrestricted access to her inner body and continued the tour of punishment, blindsiding her with untraceable barrage of rapid fire strikes that seemed to come from nowhere.

Ten seconds later the bruised and bloodied girl staggered back in a daze on one functional leg, no longer completely coherent of her target. Ranma simply folded her arms and watched the girl stagger for another moment before consciousness fled the girl completely.

Shampoo took a dirt nap.

Nabiki had watched the entire scene in simultaneous thrill and terror. This was the real thing, not Akane’s morning brawls with the furikan boys. This new girl had been out to kill, and would have happily taken her out if it meant getting to Ranma faster. Ranma in turn had played with her for a little bit then dropped the chinese girl like a bag of rice. Even now she watched as the redhead with picked up the Amazon’s sword and spun it around as if to test the balance. Nabiki’s alarm only increased when she started to move toward the unconscious girl.

“Uh, Ranma, what... what are you doing?” She questioned weakly. Half of her wanted to go over and delay the girl since it looked she was going to finish this Shampoo girl off like they were in anold samurai movie. The other part of her simply wouldn’t move. Instead, she merely reached out with her hand, as if she would somehow stop the redhead across the intervening ten meters of space.

Ranma ignored or perhaps didn’t even hear the middle Tendo’s missive and instead stood above the unconscious amazon for a moment before angling the xian point first at the girl’s head, then buried it. Nabiki realized her choked scream was quite unnecessary seconds later as the martial artist walked away: The blade was now standing edge on just to the right of the girl’s head; a quarter of its length imbedded in dirt, not flesh.

‘That’s one stone cold bitch,’ Nabiki shivered as the redhead walked off, leaving both Tendo and Amazon behind.


That's it for now. ANs so far:

Author’s Notes
- Some of my best inspiration comes from sponging off other people’s simple commentary. In this case you can blame Anthony for yet another fic. His comment started off with the simple words, ‘Did you ever hear of that Bet...?” I generally don’t do bets, but this one mauled me and I had a completed snippet within five minutes of his question. No, I didn’t remember that bet, but it sure sounded fun :)

Butterflies; Apparently there was a Bet way back whenever to make the biggest change to canon by altering the smallest event possible. The example related to me by Anthony was something about Ranma sleeping on a rock wrong while camping and deciding to say to hell with canon as a result. If that was anywhere close to the actual plot, it makes me want to gouge my eyeballs out just on principle. My response? To make something that will gouge your eyeballs out instead of mine... And hopefully entertain you somewhere along the way.

Perception;
Probably the biggest element in this fic is not canon fact, but how events are perceived by the characters and what they know at the time, not what they will know or could know. Here, the key word is ‘hair’ and all Ranma knows is he’s still cursed with no cure in sight. He doesn’t have pork bun assassins to push the plot along toward a conclusion. he doesn’t have an old ghoul to provide helpful insight. There’s no way for him to know it will just run its course as book 15 shows. He’s trapped between a rock and a hard place and he’s none too happy about it.

Hair vs Gender; Is having a hair curse enough to force Ranma into his female form for an extended length of time? IMO, yes, especially when said curse will grow nonstop without the dragon whisker to keep it in check. Canon had him rapidly filling a gym storage shed with it in minutes if not less, and seemed to even express some measure of relief when splashed by Cologne to stop it. Likewise, Ranma seemed to consider this particular curse as something of an abomination at every stage of the arc. I feel canon demonstrates clearly which curse Ranma considers the lesser of evils.

Hair Today; I’ve read the chapter a few times and there appears to be some ambiguity as to how the hair curse finally depleted itself: Potency or Time. Cologne mentions the Dragon Whiskers have a 4,000 year shelf life, which means Ranma got his at year 3,998 (more on this anomaly later) and it just happened to run out ‘just in time’ or the dragon whisker magic has a charge to boost your hair; If you use so much hair (like Ranma in canon) you can deplete the charge. However, if you run yourself bald by doing so, you're screwed. Since it could easily go either way, I’ll use the later for plot convenience.

Timeframes; One often overlooked element in Ranma’s history is his experience in China. Sure, we all know the highlights, but there are subtleties that often get missed. One major point comes with book 15 when Ranma relates his Chinese hair chronicles to Akane. To point, the flashback opens “China. Several years ago.” To realize just how powerful these words are to Ranma’s canon, you have to review the scene. First and foremost, Ranma has the gender curse. Second, Ranma has been in Nerima six months to a year by book 15’s events (vague estimate). Conclusion; Ranma had been in China ‘several years’ before the start of book 1. Not simply that, he had been there for ‘several years’ after receiving the hair curse and likewise having the jusenkyo curse the entire time. With ‘several’ being more than ‘a couple’, Ranma has had both curses for a minimum of two years before coming to Nerima. If we assume Ranma is the same age as Akane at the start of book 1 (15 years old), Ranma could very well have been 13 years or younger when he received the Juenskyo curse, depending on ones’ interpretation of this prose.

All of that said, there is the possibility that Ranma is embellishing his own tale in relating it to Akane, though the format follows every other flashback in the series, so the chances of this are minimal. More probable is that RT is playing fast and loose with her timelines, though that is a slippery plot slope that reaches throughout the entire series since time is a very malleable thing in Ranma ½. To point, Materia Blade reminds me that the anime says the trip lasted only one month... Pretty optimistic for a foot trek across the back forty of China. As an aside, Ranma apparently either knows Chinese, or has run into another backwater Chinese local who can speak perfect Japanese in this same scene.
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Drawde
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Just as a note, but I've learned not to take "years" literally in manga. The phrase used tends to be translated literally when it's not meant to. The many "ten years ago" actually means years ago. Just like you say "just a minute" when someone interupts you, yet you don't literally mean in exactly sixty seconds. Not saying something needs changing, just mentioning it.

Also, Ranma could actually not know what's going on with his female body. At the time the manga was written roughly 50% of the young population had virtually no interaction with anyone of the opposite sex outside of family. Single gender schools were extremely popular at the time. So many eventual adults graduated, started a life, and knew nothing about how to interact with half the population. All those "Dating for Dummies" books and jokes you see in older manga aren't actually jokes. They really exist.

So Ranma knowing nothing about what a period is is quite possible.
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MageOhki
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Drawde
Aug 1 2012, 08:03 PM
Just as a note, but I've learned not to take "years" literally in manga. The phrase used tends to be translated literally when it's not meant to. The many "ten years ago" actually means years ago. Just like you say "just a minute" when someone interupts you, yet you don't literally mean in exactly sixty seconds. Not saying something needs changing, just mentioning it.

Also, Ranma could actually not know what's going on with his female body. At the time the manga was written roughly 50% of the young population had virtually no interaction with anyone of the opposite sex outside of family. Single gender schools were extremely popular at the time. So many eventual adults graduated, started a life, and knew nothing about how to interact with half the population. All those "Dating for Dummies" books and jokes you see in older manga aren't actually jokes. They really exist.

So Ranma knowing nothing about what a period is is quite possible.
Drawde?
Ranma 1/2 in Japan ran in Sept 1987 to March 1996. Uh..... yeah, no, Gender seperated schools weren't all the rage, and really only for elite (read rich) students. Further, given how much ah... roughing it, Ranma had, you think he didn't run across it?

The big reason for the dating for dummies books and jokes, in manga as old, or usually older than Ranma 1/2, isn't so much becasue of gender seperation, as much as remember how many students had no idea, thanks to the intense pressure on how to cram, cram, cram.

Yes, Ranma at 12 (we think, anyways) attended a all boy's school. But besides him and Kodachi, there are none who attended seperated schools... even in simliar time manga (I've heard, just heard mind you, that gender seperated schools are on the upswing again, supposeldy. No proof). But in 87, from what I recall offhand, only about 15% of Japanese students attended a gender seperated school.
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Ozzallos
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Drawde
Aug 1 2012, 08:03 PM
Just as a note, but I've learned not to take "years" literally in manga. The phrase used tends to be translated literally when it's not meant to. The many "ten years ago" actually means years ago. Just like you say "just a minute" when someone interupts you, yet you don't literally mean in exactly sixty seconds. Not saying something needs changing, just mentioning it.
Sure, which is why I noted the possibility in the ANs. Exaggeration is certainly on the table here.

That said, I suspect Ranma's experience resume in China is broader than most people realize. For example, just how does he come across a packet of girl-away from China and why does he even have it? (used vs Happosai when he first arrives in manga). He's obviously had other adventures there apart from what we know of in manga, so why not years? You're probably right, but I'm just taking advantage of the prose given to me ;)
Edited by Ozzallos, Aug 1 2012, 10:38 PM.
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biigoh
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For that matter, why would anyone have a package of "Girl Away" when you think about it....
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Dumbledork
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Finally some new material. I'm happy.

About the whole period thing. I can understand that Ranma freaks out when it happens to him, but I'm always annoyed when in fics (and that happens in probably 95% of all fics where he has a period) he doesn't know anything about female biology or that girls bleed from there once a month.

@biigoh What anime is you signature picture from?
Edited by Dumbledork, Aug 2 2012, 06:23 AM.
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biigoh
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Dumbledork
Aug 2 2012, 06:21 AM
Finally some new material. I'm happy.

About the whole period thing. I can understand that Ranma freaks out when it happens to him, but I'm always annoyed when in fics (and that happens in probably 95% of all fics where he has a period) he doesn't know anything about female biology or that girls bleed from there once a month.

@biigoh What anime is you signature picture from?
That's Mikuru from the melancholy of suzumiya haruhi. Not sure about the ufo.
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Dumbledork
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Heh. Check the posts at the fanfiction forum about this story. Ozzallos bashing going strong again.
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Drawde
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I've read an article stating that it was about 50% at that time. Though I haven't been able to find it again in years.

I just wanted to point out that it's possible that Ranma actually doesn't know anything about the female reproductive system.
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CatOnFire
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biigoh
Aug 2 2012, 02:55 AM
For that matter, why would anyone have a package of "Girl Away" when you think about it....
It's China.
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Ozzallos
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Dumbledork
Aug 2 2012, 07:00 AM
Heh. Check the posts at the fanfiction forum about this story. Ozzallos bashing going strong again.


The response there was a forgone conclusion. As to the period thing, I assume it's possible he could know, but I'm factoring in a few possibilities:

1) On the road since early age, assumed minimal contact with women.
2) All but given that his offical schooling is pretty spotty.
3) The single instance we see of him in school is an all boys school w/Ryoga.

Now I will admit compelling counter arguments to those points.

1) Ranma is clearly intelligent in non martial arts areas in-spite of being on the road since childhood.
2) If I roll with being in China for an extended period of time, there is every possibility that he's been in the curse longer than generally assumed, especially since every flashback after Jusenkyo has him as a female.

Maybe I'll take your suggestion. This is an alpha product and no reason why I can't have Ranma actually realize what's happening to him.
Edited by Ozzallos, Aug 2 2012, 03:25 PM.
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