Long before Ranma and his father Genma visited Jusenkyo and met with their cursed fate, many years before Ranma first met Akane, the Saotome males traveled through China seeking strength, honor, and adventure. This is their story.

Iron Ranma Episode One!

-Saotome Samba-

-A small fishing village on the banks of a river in Central China-

"Heya pops, are we gonna eat anytime soon? I'm starvin'!"

"We'll eat when we eat, boy, and not a moment sooner. Now stop whining. You sound like a girl when you do that."

The sun was beginning to slide towards the horizon, the sky already beginning to bronze in anticipation of the night. This small village had no residences for travelers, especially not foreigners. The people that lived there were beginning to wonder if the large man with glasses and his son were up to no good, passing through at this time of day, but they kept to themselves. Most people in this village had learned long ago that most travelers move on if simply left alone.

The young boy was wondering if he'd ever see another bowl of rice again in his life. His father hadn't let him starve yet, but to the boy that meant nothing. His name was Saotome Ranma, and he was only ten years old, but he'd already learned a few important things about his father. First and foremost, was that he was far more likely to think with his own stomach in mind than Ranma's. Second, was that if his father decided it would help advance Ranma's art, his father would do almost anything to him. He still got shivers sometimes when it got dark and he got tangled up in his sleeping bag. It always reminded him of the last 'ultimate technique' the old fool had tried to teach him.

Genma was on a narrower mental track than his son, or the suspicious villagers. His one and only concern was where he could find some poor unwitting sap to give him room and board for the night. And preferably free. The only problem he'd run into so far was the seemingly bred-in distrust of foreigners the workmen of this country seemed to have. Genma rolled his shoulders in disgust and began heading out of town. After seeing not a single receptive face after walking through the entire town Genma resigned himself to one more night in a tent beside the road. And another night of trail rations. Shuddering at the thought, he glanced down at his son and smiled softly at the boy's gawking.

Even though he'd taken Ranma from his mother at such an impressionable age there didn't seem to be any signs of separation anxiety. The boy had adjusted well to life on the road under his father's tutelage. Secret pride of the child's skill in the family art and his survival skills didn't mean he'd let up on his son though. "Stop staring at all the villagers like they were spring hams, boy, they'll not be feeding us tonight." Ranma snapped his head forward and straightened his back. His mouth worked itself into a thin line as he mentally waived goodbye to the tasty thing he'd seen a vendor preparing.

"Pops, why can't we just, ya know, buy some food?"

"Because we have no money, son"

"An why we got no money?"

"Because we're never in a place long enough to earn it, boy"

"An so why don' we just stay inna place long enuf ta..."

Genma shot his son a look that stopped his line of questioning short. It wasn't a look that promised punishment if he continued. Ranma recognized his father's mood and shucked his backpack quicker than an eye blink, ready for what was to come. In all of his training as a young child Ranma had been drilled to respond instinctively to his father's commands so as to avoid injury. The look that Genma had given his son had been one that spoke volumes, telling Ranma that danger was coming and that he should be prepared. "Did you feel it that time, Ranma?"

The feeling Genma was talking about was a martial artist's well honed ability to sense danger coming, the onset of a possible fight. Recently Genma had been training the battle instinct into his son, and so far had garnered only middling success. If Ranma didn't fight real battles he'd never have truly developed senses, but that didn't mean his father was about to throw an untrained child into the thick of an honest conflict. He smirked a little as he saw five villagers swaggering towards him and his son. They were obviously intent on 'meeting' the foreigners and 'explaining' a few things to them. Just because he wouldn't throw his son into the fray didn't mean he'd throw the boy out either.

"I thought I felt a little tinglin' pops, but those guys up there look like they mean ta make us have a bad night. Don' need no senses fer that"

"Don't talk back to your father, boy, just pay attention and don't let yourself get cornered this time, got it?"

"Hey, it ain't gonna be like the fish guy, alright? I already told ya if it hadn't been fer his wife I'da gotten that pig through the noodles an..."

Ranma was once again cut short in the middle of an explanation, and didn't like it one bit. He glared daggers at the apparent leader of the thugs. Unmindful of the young outsider whelp, the tall man thrust his unfortunately prominent chin forward and smirked savagely. It was not a pretty effect.

"So, you think you can just walk through our streets like tourists, treating us like oddities?"

The man spoke in his native tongue, thinking to confuse the idiot foreigners but was unpleasantly shocked when Ranma spoke up from his father's side. In the man's native language no less.

"Hey, guy. We just moving from place to place. No need trouble from guy!"

It was broken, and sounded like something a child of five years would say, but the tone was insulting enough to make the ugly villager even angrier. He stepped forward threateningly and slipped into what looked like a loose approximation of a basic Kung-Fu stance. Genma grunted and almost blushed in embarrassment. He didn't want to hurt these fools. He'd leave them to Ranma to handle, there were only five of them after all.

In Japanese Genma said to his son, "Take them down quick and hard boy, but try not to hurt them ok? I want to make it out of this village as painlessly as possible."

"Sure thing pops," Ranma cracked his knuckles but otherwise seemed to stand lazily, "I ain't gonna go easy on no one that stinks like this guy". To most people Ranma appeared as though he didn't even notice the taller man. But, Genma knew his son's opening stance well and the danger it represented to the unfortunate thugs.

"I'm gonna teach you a lesson your father should have taught you long ago, to speak when spoken to!" With that the man glided forward in an attempt to strike Ranma with a loose backhand. While he was fast, he never suspected that Ranma would fight back. So it was with fluid ease that Ranma simply leaned back and smirked upside-down at his father.

"Don't get cocky boy"

"Sorry pops"

The man was still floundering in his missed attempt to strike Ranma. With such a wide opening to exploit Ranma shot his left foot nearly straight up and caught the man square beneath his jaw. A loud click was accompanied by a wet pop, and the man dropped to the ground and began to scream mutely while holding his jaw. He never saw Ranma swing into motion as his friends sprang to circle the boy. A husky man with thickly muscled arms and legs bore down on Ranma with a simple but powerful haymaker, and was surprised when his fist was met by the heel of Ranma's foot which had never come all the way down from his first kick. Letting his hip and knee absorb the punch allowed Ranma to utilize most of the momentum the punch had carried. He pivoted slightly on his right foot and slid his raised foot away from the brawler's fist, allowing the rest of the man's considerable momentum to move him past Ranma's smaller frame. Predictably the villager stumbled one step, but it was all Ranma needed. Spinning with amazing speed on his one planted foot, Ranma spent his stored up momentum in an amazing roundhouse to the back of the poor fool's head. He dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Ranma's right hand came up as he brushed aside a clumsy jab from a third villager, this one obviously a fisher, as he still had some hooks and line held in a leather vest. The fisher barely had time to widen his eyes in shock. The boy had been facing the other way when he had struck! Ranma's hand rotated subtly and his fingers dug deep into the man's nerves just below the wrist. Using the fisherman's surprise and pain Ranma was able to pull sharply on the man's arm while simultaneously thrusting upward into his armpit with his left hand in a vicious open palm strike. The would-be thug's eyes bulged in pain as his arm was forcibly removed from its socket, but he didn't have time to scream. The fourth and fifth member of the little band had decided to take on the boy at the same time, and were closing on him even as he dismantled their friend.

Ranma decided to get flashy and used his hold on the fisherman to his advantage. He rotated his hips and changed his stance to throw his burden, but instead of sending him free he grounded the man and used him as a springboard. Ranma's left hand ground the man's joint painfully as he levered his body up into a flash kick that devastated one oncoming attacker's knee. He threw all his weight into the kick, and his power allowed him to springboard off the howling man's leg and straight into the gut of the fifth and final opponent. Strictly speaking, it was a stupid maneuver that would have gotten him hurt if the final attacker had been trained to any degree. As it was, Ranma's double fisted flight bowled the man over, and allowed Ranma a brief handstand before he flipped backwards. Somersaulting in midair, he came down lightly facing the same direction he had been originally, only five feet farther down the road. The whole affair had taken only fifteen seconds.

There was silence in the villagers except the muted screams and groans from the five hapless goons that had tried to teach Ranma a little 'lesson'. Genma couldn't see the boy's proud smirk, but knew it was there. A father knows his son better than any son would be willing to admit.

"Stop preening, boy, what the hell was that supposed to be?"

Ranma was indeed smirking and though he would have never admitted it, he had been preening too. He turned towards his father and glowered dangerously. "I'd call that 'dismantlin tha enemy' pops. Or were ya too blind ta follow it?"

Genma snickered at his son, which only caused Ranma's face to darken more. The people of the village were beginning to think that maybe they had better be somewhere else when Mount Ranma erupted. Fortunately for them Ranma had a very strong focus on his target. His child's voice reached higher as his outrage climbed.

"Whatcha laughin at ya windbag, I creamed 'em fair!"

Genma had had enough fun and set about to teach his son another important lesson. "Listen boy, you just put the hurt on five untrained idiots! If any of them were trained to a fourth of your skill they would have used your pretty little head as a mop. What was that nonsense with a two fisted aerial strike to the last man's stomach? And taking your eyes off the enemy completely while leaving your front exposed? I suppose you think I'm only teaching you so you can hit straw dummies your entire life, or break bricks!"

Ranma huffed and began to explain, "Listen ya old fool, if they'd been trained I'da known it right away. I was just trying to do aerial stuff 'cos that's what our school is all about. Ain't you the one that told me that?"

Genma nodded sagely and intoned, "An areal battle is one by the man in the air." He shook his head sadly and then said, "But you aren't trained well enough to take to the skies my son. Next time you decide I've been training you so you can put on a show, I'll turn you into one big ten year old bruise, got that?"

"Try it ya worn out old prick!"

"That's it boy, it's time I re-taught you some manners!"

Though it took a while in coming, the generational clash of Saotomes had begun. The two fought violently, bravely, and widely. Unfortunately for the village. Carts were overturned and chicken were set to run loose, but the man and his son worked their way out of town and down the road. They continued to fight as they crested a hill just outside of the village and disappeared behind it. Only then did the inhabitants of this stretch of river breathe easily. Shortly afterwards an angry cry rose from the people of the beautiful land of China. Not only had their stuff been tossed, but some of it was missing too.

Further down the road, and moving quickly, the two Saotome men laughed merrily as they jogged off into the sunset with packs full of "borrowed" food supplies. Ranma was indeed covered with bruises, but Genma also sported a shiner. Proof and pride to him that his son was improving quickly. There wouldn't be another chance like that for a while, but Genma looked forward to what another few weeks of intense wilderness training would do for Ranma's moves.

For Ranma's part, he was only concerned about finding a place to stop. After all that talk about spring hams, Ranma had found one during his spar with Genma. It was a fine day in the Land of China and for Saotome Ranma, life was very good.