Author's note: I've had questions as to whether this is an AU fic. I don't really think so, its more along the lines of a what if fic than an AU. This idea just came to my head and I felt like writing it down… I rather like confusing stories, where the characters are confused. A little bit of dramatic irony…yeah, you studied it in sophomore lit class with Oedipus Rex. Anyways, here is…
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Ranma related (except a few manga)! All the characters are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and this fanfic is just for fun.
A different story\A point in time\
"Look, Mr. Tendo! A little girl! What will you name her?"
"Name her Akane. Akane Tendo."
\ Twenty-five years later \
Akane Tendo leaned back in her chair, looked out the airplane window and sighed. There was nothing but water for as far as she could see. The long ride from Tokyo to San Francisco had partially been spent thinking about her life.
Akane was the youngest of three sisters. Back home, in a little ward called Nerima, her father, Soun Tendo, owned a martial arts training hall, which was barely making it with one class a week. The real money came from her middle sister, Nabiki. She was the owner and president of a big export company and was a single career woman, much sought after by various tycoons: something, which she used to her full advantage. Her eldest sister, Kasumi was the motherly figure. The one who was married with three little children. Her husband was a doctor and they lived in the Tendo house so that Kasumi could take care of Daddy.
All of their lives were pretty straightforward and simple (Except maybe Nabiki a little, she had gotten a sort of shady reputation, but still highly respected).
But Akane herself?
She didn't know. Nabiki had employed her in her business as some executive or other and really paid her quite well. Nabiki often offered her "business trips" to just about anywhere she wanted to go. And at that moment, it was the States. Akane was actually quite good in business, but her first love was martial arts. In fact, her trip was loosely based on this love.
Many years before, when the girls were much younger, their father told them about a promise that he had made. Soun and his best friend Genma were training partners and when they were finished with training, they parted. Before they separated, however, the two promised to have their children marry each other to join their schools.
A little after Nabiki was born and Akane was almost, Soun got a letter in the mail announcing the birth of his friend's first son. The letter had gotten wet at the part about the baby's name, so they didn't know the Saotome kid's first name. This son was to marry one of Soun's three daughters. After Soun talked to his daughters, the subject never really came up again. This was why she was leaving. Her father had started talking about the engagement again and Akane and Nabiki were afraid of being forced to marry some idiot. They really didn't want to have to go through with such a promise. Nabiki had gone on a hasty trip to France and sent Akane to America.
So, here she was, on an airplane. She looked at the clock and decided to go to sleep.
\Several hours later\
Akane had just set her bags down in the hotel Nabiki had booked. It was a nice place in the middle of the city. She had asked the front desk for a phone book.
She had no idea how long she was going to be there and she most definitely wanted to find a dojo to practice at. Akane didn't feel as though she could go a month without a good workout. As she looked through, she found many karate studios. That was good and all, but she just didn't practice it. Then, a little one liner caught her eye:
Saotome Anything Goes School of Martial Arts.
545 E. Westwood Ave., San Francisco……………………….658-345–7684.
From the ad, one could assume that it was a little place whose style wasn't very well known. For some reason, Akane felt drawn to that little ad. Still dressed in a sort of work clothes, Akane quickly dumped everything out of her briefcase and quickly located her own yellow gi, which she had brought with her. If the place was anything at all, she wanted to be able to quickly be ready for it. Something else made Akane look in the mirror as she called a cab. A young looking girl with dark brown eyes and shortish black hair stared back at her.
A few minutes later, Akane was standing in front of the little storefront. The glass windows had drawn blinds on them, to keep the passers by from looking in the window, or to keep the students from looking out.
She pulled the wooden door open and was greeted with an odd sort of room. Not at all like it looked from the outside. The walls seemed like they were made of wood and there were some comfortable looking chairs in a semicircle facing the door, with a little coffee table holding magazines. There was another door with a sign that said: Please take a seat. Akane slowly walked around the room, waiting for someone to come and find her. She looked at the wooden frames decorating the walls. They were beautifully done and might have been hand-made. The pictures were mostly of kids, probably the sensei's better students. There were also a few pictures of a place greatly resembling Japan, as well as some news clippings. As she was looking at a picture of a woman holding a sword, she heard a swish and then a man's voice. 'Excuse me, but can I help you?"
Akane turned around quickly to face the voice. The voice came from the young man standing on the inside of the sliding door from which he had just come out of. He was muscular, though not bulky and quite handsome my many people's standards. He was Japanese and a bit taller than Akane. His black hair was tied back in a thin braid and his eyes were a surprising dark blue in color. He was most certainly a martial artist. Soon, she remembered that he had spoken. So, she put on her professional air and responded.
"Perhaps. I'm looking for the master of this dojo." His eyes widened at her accent and choice of words (specifically dojo, because it is so rarely used by Americans), but soon smiled. "I am he. What can I do for you?" Akane relaxed her imperious tone a little. "I would like to ask you if I may use your dojo to practice in. I am willing, of course to pay you for the use of your room." He looked flabbergasted.
"You want to… rent my dojo?"
"Yes please. Just to keep in practice while I'm here. On business, you know."
"Really? How very interesting. I'm sure that it would be possible. That is, if you are willing to work around my classes." The man smiled.
"Why, of course, sir. I am Akane Tendo."
"Tendo? You wouldn't be related to anyone in Tendo Exports, would you?" She smiled. Could he have heard about her sister's business?
"Perhaps. You would be Mr. Saotome, I presume?" The man started.
"Oh, sorry. I'm Ranma Saotome, the master of this training hall. Pleased to meet you." To Akane's great surprise, he bowed to her. She, naturally, returned the favor. "Now, Miss Tendo," he waved his hand at the chairs "would you care to talk sitting down?" they settled into the comfortable chairs. "Much better. So, you would like to use my room when it is not in use."
"Yes, sir."
"But not take classes."
"No, Mr. Saotome. You see, I am in no need of lessons, as my style is different."
"Is that so. Well, what style do you practice?"
"I practice the style of my family."
"How very interesting."
"So, what do you say to my offer?"
"Well," he leaned back in his chair "This place is pretty busy, most days, but I'm sure you could use it after classes are over. There is just one thing to ask."
"I'll pay whatever you want per hour." Once again, a quick look of surprise passed over his face.
"What? Oh, no, I just meant that I would like to spar with you first, just for fun. I haven't had a good opponent in a long time, and you seem to promise to be a good one."
"Thanks. That's fine."
"So, when can you come back?"
"Actually, I can do it right now, if you're up to it."
"And how would you do that?"
"I brought a change of clothes. Have you a bathroom in here, Mr. Saotome?"
"Call me Ranma, and it's there" he pointed to another door, which Akane hadn't noticed, as it too was wooden and blended in with the wall.