Dark Angel Studios Productions
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The Way Things Were
Dark Angel 98s




Ranma Saotome had grown up. It was the way of things, and it had to eventually happen. In fact, it had been so for almost ten years now. He had passed his twenty-eighth birthday over two weeks ago, and had not even noticed it. Time seemed to change as you got older. Meant less to a person, especially when your life reached that comfortable place, where everything seemed right with the world.


At present, Ranma was facing off against a young man of sixteen, and as they circled each other across the dojo floor, each watched the other closely for signs of weakness. Ranma no longer wore the smug smile of youth as he fought, but instead wore a serious, contemplative face as he studied his youthful foe.


The young man was doing a fine job of copying Ranma, calm and focused, if, of course, you ignored the fact that he was sweating and twitched noticeably every time Ranma moved a little too fast. He was waiting for some type of weakness to appear in his opponents guard, and through that, to land a telling blow against the older man.


What happened next, only an experienced fighter could have followed. The youth saw an opening, and launched himself forward, focusing his Ki into a single attack. He moved forward so fast that he seemed to blur, and his leap kick was delivered with perfect accuracy, into Ranma's chest. Or that was what should have happened.


Ranma's supposed weakness had been a trap, to draw his opponent into an attack. Ranma seemed to vanish just before impact, and to reappear in mid-air above his student. Ranma had always been fast, but training and age had made him impossibly so. His foe only had a moment to register something had changed before Ranma's downward kick dropped him to the matted dojo floor. Ranma landed in a crouch right next to him, and offered the slightly stunned youth a hand. When he finally recovered enough to take it, Ranma helped him rise. They both bowed to one another, and then Ranma watched the young man hurry back over into his place in line with two dozen other youths of both sexes.


Ranma smiled. "OK, class. Who can tell me what was learned from that match?"


Several hands went up at once, including the youth Ranma had just beaten. He selected one of his student sat random.


This youth, a rather short fellow named Ado, smiled as he answered. "Never devote yourself fully to one attack, Sensei."


"A wise lesson, Ado. In some situations that is true. And you have to learn when that applies, but that isn't the lesson I was going for. How about you?" He pointed to one of his senior students, Miss Keiko.


"Never trust what an opponent is willing to show you. It is always a trap." She cast a smug glance down the rest of the class. Ranma deflated her ego.


"Not usually true. A truly skilled fighter can be trusted to do that, hide his weaknesses, and show false ones. Most fighters don't do that how ever, and if they try, it is obvious. And if you never trust a weakness, you can never attack as you need to." Ranma turned to select another student, when someone down the line cleared their throat. He turned and smiled, knowing he would finally get a decent answer.


The girl that spoke could not have been more than nine or ten. She was dressed in a similar manor to the rest of the class, which was to say, just like Ranma, in his Chinese style clothing, except that while everyone else wore blues and greens, and a few purple, this young girl wore bright yellow. In the Saotome School ranking system, this put her only a step below the master himself. Her hair was a black so dark it sometimes seemed to shine blue, with a lone streak of bright red in the front. She wore it braided in a loose ponytail, except for the streak, which hung down across her face. She stepped forward confidently.


"One of the prime tenants of the Saotome School of Martial Arts is to be unafraid, to take risks, no matter what the odds, and no matter how outmatched you are. His attack was done correctly. He took a chance, and risk it all, in an attempt to beat a better fighter." She looked at him, serious for just a brief moment, before a big grin broke out on her face. "Did I get that right, Pop?"

Ranma nodded. "You did good Ami-chan. Perfect answer." He faced the rest of the class. "Never be afraid to take a risk, in fighting or in life. You might fall on your face; you might get punched in the face. But you might make it, and you'll never know if you don't try. Got that?"


The class nodded, and voiced their understanding. Ranma bowed to them all, and they all bowed back. He dismissed them quickly, with a promise of going over one of the schools special techniques next class. This was met with a round of excited cheers, and he watched them all file out, discussing the craft he had devoted his life to. It made his life have great meaning to be passing on something he loved to a new generation.


When they were all gone, he found himself not alone. He found this out by the sharp elbow he received in his side. Grunting, he shifted on the defensive, and leapt back several steps. He found a content young Ami staring at him, grin still in place, her body in the traditional Saotome fighting stance.


"Hey pop, you getting soft or what? You had that goofy look on your face again. Already going senile?" She stuck her tongue out as an added sign of disapproval.


"Listen here now, young lady. Proper young girls don't stick their tongues out."


"Proper young girls don't do martial arts either!"


She had him there. She was just as quick witted as her mother, which meant he usually received that short end of the stick when it came down to their verbal sparing. But that did not really matter to him. His weapon of choice had never been words anyway. He leapt to the air, leg extended in a kick, and smiled as his daughter met him mid-air with a kick of her own. They exchanged blows there, before landing and taking back to the air for another exchange.


Ranma was more than proud of his daughter. She was already beyond him in skill when he was that age, plus she was getting a much better education, and all the things a growing child could need. He tried to be the father he had always wanted, and so far had managed to surpass Genma in every way imaginable. Things were a little difficult at times, but he would not have changed a thing if he could have. Well, he reflected as he blocked a barrage of punches, maybe one thing. Have tried harder to keep her mother around and in their lives. After all, both of them did miss Ukyou quite a bit.




******************************************************



Konatsu watched his beloved Ukyou argue with the driver of the shipment truck, and sighed unhappily. It was not the fact that she was in charge, or that everyone differed to her in a problem. She was the owner of Ucchan's, and she was the boss. It was why they went to her over him that drove him up the wall. You see, everyone thought that she was a man, and he a woman.


It had not been his fault in the beginning. His family had raised him as a woman, and as odd as it was, he had accepted this as a simple fact of life. He had even begun to enjoy the pretty cloths, the makeup, the acting like a demure little woman. It had become a habit, more addictive than any drug, and even at twenty-nine, he still did it.


Ukyou, on the other hand, had taken to dressing as a man willingly, in order to pursue her runaway fiancé, a young Ranma Saotome. For close to ten years she traveled across Japan, attending boy only schools, fooling everyone. It became almost natural to her to do so. For a while, she had returned to her feminine roots, becoming a woman again, trying to win over her Ran-chan. In the end, she finally had. But all things had not been perfect in their relationship. Far from it in fact. He had yet to figure out if it had been something she had become addicted to, as he had, had been a habit to difficult to break, or if Ranma and his sex-shifting had pushed her along, but for whatever reason, she went back to her own cross dressing ways. Soon after, she and Ranma had broken up, and she had come back to him. Eventually they had developed the relationship they were in now, whatever it was.


Ukyou glanced at him, and shot him a brief smile. The truck driver glanced his way, and nudged her. He whispered in a voice meant to be heard only by those two, but Konatsu heard it still. "You have a mighty nice looking lady there."


She frowned at him. "Don't be looking at Konatsu like that. You got me, sugar? I don't want to have to get rough with you. Now get out of here, and make sure you get back here on the right day next time." She turned her back on him in a dismissive gesture, and walked away. The driver looked mad enough to try something stupid, but remembered who she was, a multi-millionaire, with enough clout to make life a living hell. He grumbled a little, but turned and left.


Ukyou came up and wrapped her arms around his waist, and kissed him. He hung his arms around her neck, and leaned into her. They made quite a cute couple, a demure little young Japanese girl in a beautiful kimono, and a strong, handsome looking man wearing a black suit and his hair in a short ponytail. Except of course that he was the girl in this picture.


"I hate doing business this late in the day. We should be off, and at home."


Konatsu nodded, and sighed as Ukyou brushed a hand against her back. Usually it bothered him that they were such an odd couple, so messed up, but there were good parts. Like when Ukyou was in charge, being a man, demanding and sure. He liked her in charge.


"Come on Kona-chan, lets go back to the house. I feel a need to strip you naked." He blushed, but did not object. It was the way things were, and he would rather have this than not. He snuggled into Ukyou's arms as they walked away, towards their car, and out of the back alley behind the twelfth Ucchan's to have opened in her ever-expanding franchise.




**************************************************



The farm was nice and quiet, even the sumo pigs having gone to sleep. It made a nice change of pace to the normal hectic days on the farm. Akari and Ryoga Hibiki sat quietly on their front porch, watching the moon rise slowly. He held her close, arm wrapped around her shoulder, her resting her head on his chest. Thins were at peace. At least in the world around them.


Ryoga had always been a creature of anger and sadness. It had always been a part of his life, from the day he was born. And recently, he found himself lacking that force that had driven him for so long. And without that drive, without that focus, he found himself without direction.


So, as a force of habit, he had begun to drag up things of the past. And the only thing that seemed to set him back into that old depression was thoughts of Akane. He had his chance with her, and had blown it foolishly. They had dated for over a year, after Ranma had left, and things had seemed good to him. Seemed being the operative word. It was only later, after she had finally caught on that he was P-chan, after she was months pregnant with their son, that he figured it out. She told him she could not marry him, because of how he had deceived her about his curse, how he had abused her trust. But he finally had it figured out. It was because he was not Ranma.


It infuriated him to no end that he could not seem to beat Saotome, even when he had given up, and ran off with another girl. What was it about the sex changing, half-witted, foot in mouth martial artist that had placed him so above Ryoga. He still remembered their last encounter, during that stupid quest for the Spring of Wishes, when the two of them had finally gone at it as he had always wanted. And when he had lost, Ranma standing their over him, panting, and smiling faintly. He then walked away. Simple as that. No arguments, no motive given. He just walked away, and gave him the spring that led to his curing his pig form. Why had he done that? What was it that made him so much more noble, so much better.


His anger flared briefly, and died just a quickly. The faint cries of his newborn daughter called out faintly from inside the house. Both parents moved almost as one, sitting up and starting to rise.


Akari patted him on the knee. "You sit still, Ryoga. I'll go get her."


He stood up before her anyway. He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "You carried her for nine months, I think it's only fair that I get to look after her for a while. You stay and rest, I'll be right back."


"Oh Ryoga, you're far to good to me."


He still blushed faintly at her compliments, and rubbed the back of his head idly, as he walked inside. But it did not take long for his normal negativeness to wear away her compliment. Soon, with his little daughter in his arms, sucking softly at her bottle, his anger returned. He would find away to prove to everyone that he was better than Ranma, he had been working on it for a while now. And in just a week, he would finally show them all.




*********************************************




Akane Tendo smiled as her son finished saying his lines on stage in that fairly nervous, sightly embarrassed manner that was so familiar to parents watching their children performing on stage for the first time. Jin did such a good job, remembering every line, and she was about bursting with pride.


She sat there, watching the rest to the play, proud of she work that she had done to bring this about. Her theater company, at her insistence, had helped the local elementary school start this little student theater, and the results had been incredible. The parents loved it, the children loved it. And it gave her something to do with her life.


At the plays end, as the curtain dropped, and the lights rose, all the children poured up on stage, with their teacher. Jin carried a huge bundle of roses. The teacher smiled out at the audience, and spoke into the microphone she carried. "I would like to thank all of the parents who came tonight for being here, and for supporting us in getting this Children Theater started. Lets give big hand for all our little actors and actresses out here tonight." The applause was quite loud, almost thunderous, as dozens of proud parents began their clapping and cheering. As it died down, after a few short minutes, the teacher looked over at her. "Lets also be sure to thank the woman who made all of this possible. Without her help and support, this never would have happened. Akane Tendo, come on up here."


Akane blushed a little, but climbed up on stage, and turned to look out over that audience. "I don't deserve half the credit for this. Most of it was the teachers and students, who have all been amazing. And you parents who supported this from the beginning. Thank you all for making this a reality."


"None the less, the students and I would like to thank you for all the work you have done."


Jin came over to her, and looked up with his huge blue eyes. He held up his flowery bundle, and grinned hugely, his little fangs he had gotten from his father making him look even more adorable. "For you Mommy."


She knelt down, and accepted the flowers, and wrapped him in a tight hug. For just a moment, she was washed over by feelings of loss, feeling his strong, young arms wrapped around her neck. She still was unsure who she missed, his father or the one who should have been, but she pushed those thoughts aside. She always got like this when she was emotional, and this was not the place for it. She stood up, cradling the roses to her chest, and faced the applauding crowd.


"Why are you crying Mommy?" His question was barely heard above the noise, but she looked down at him, and lied.


"I'm just so happy. They are tears of joy. Now smile at the people, Jin."


He looked out, and smiled at the crowd, just as he was told, but he shot her another sideways look, his eyes saddened by his mothers tears. He knew something was wrong, could feel it with all of his heart, but he did not know what it was. All he knew was that he wanted to make his mommy happy, whatever it took.




****************************************************




Nabiki Tendo Kuno, one of the richest women in Japan today, watched her husband carefully. You had to watch him like a hawk when things like Ranma or Akane were brought up in his presence. While he had been long over them both, sometimes his ingrained reactions took over, and he would begin spouting off poetry about his love, or in Ranma's case, sometimes it was curses. Kuno was a smart man, despite what most though, it was just that he was a creature of his more base instincts and gut reactions. Even after twelve years of trying to break him of it.


Instead of his much dreaded outbursts, which she had learned to ignore, he looked up from his paper, The New York Post, which he had flown in fresh off the presses, and frowned at her. He stared for a long moment, sipping his tea, before looking back at his paper. "Sometimes, thou sanity is more in question that Macbeth's. Or even mine own. Are you serious, wife?"


"Do I ever make jokes?"


"No. Much to my disappointment." He looked at her again, and sipped his tea, his gaze locked with hers. He was the only person in all of Japan that still had the courage to look her in the eye anymore. Which was odd since he had the most to be worried about. "If you feel this is best, then I give you my permission." He went back to reading.


"Oh, thank you, Kuno Baby. That means the WORLD to me..." Her sarcasm was evident, as if she needed his permission. She was not sure if he did things like that to annoy her, or simply because he was fooling himself into believing that she actually listened. "I have already sent the invitations, with assurances to make sure he comes." He nodded as if not surprised, and she felt a flash of irritation again. He really was the only man she had ever met that she could not completely figure out. She guessed that was why she had fallen in... love. That was the only word for it.


"I only hope you know what you are doing. Otherwise..."


"I know. I know. But they both need this." But she did think over it again. She had her doubts. After all, their track record was pretty much a disaster. But one had to take chances, and she knew her sister was worth it. It did not matter that Kasumi disapproved. Her way of dealing with the problem was simple insanity. So it was her plan or nothing. She just prayed that nothing was not going to prove to be a better idea.




*************************************************




The boat rocked silently as it cut across dark waters. Mousse, glasses reflecting the approaching Japanese shoreline, watched in silent fascination as the foreign land that had tied all their destines together approached. He figured that he should probably go below decks and wake Shampoo up, but decided against it. She was far more nervous than he was. She had not been able to sleep for a month, except when exhaustion claimed her. He felt she needed it.


In the coming days ahead, her honor would be met, one way or another. It was demanded of them both. In the days ahead, it would be decided whether or not they could return home in triumph, or return at all. The coming days would test the limits of how they had grown in the years of their absence from Japan. It would test Shampoo harder, but he was sure she would do fine. He had to keep telling himself that. Otherwise he would loose his mind.


So he stood there, against the bow, and watched the dark waters slide past them,and tried not to think about it. He succeeded only marginally. Death was hard to ignore...




**************************************************





Evenings in the Saotome Dojo were usually calm around this time. Simply because of the fact that Ranma was alone, Ami being in school still, and no more classes till later in the evening. It was the time he used for his own training, to center his mind and body into one harmonious force. It was just that today, it was next to impossible for him to be anything but confused and emotional.


He sat quietly on the porch of the small two story house he called his home in the suburbs of Tokyo, and looked out onto the small Koi pond he had build with his own hands and sighed. It was not easy being slapped in the face by a past you had tried so very hard to get away from. The invitation to attend his high school reunion had arrived this morning, and he had only just opened it. It sat next to him as he sat on the floor, one hand keeping it from being blown away by the slight breeze that occasionally wafted through the yard. The delicate, hand written script had been easily recognizable, even after all this time. He picked it up again, and reread it, still unsure about how he really felt about it.


******

Dear Ranma
This is an invitation to your upcoming High School Reunion. The school has been unable to find you, but I am a lot more devoted than they are. I am hoping that this finds you well, and willing to accept this invitation. There is a lot of unfinished business you left behind, and I feel it is for the best that you accept. I will be waiting for you at the Dojo, on the night of the party. I hope you will come. I know you will come.


******


He stared silently at the letter for a moment, then looked to his other hand. The picture that had been included was a huge group snapshot. He remembered when it was taken, so long ago. It had been after that battle with Prince Toma and his animal goons. It was the day that Ranma had picked saving Akane over the cure for his curse. He had destroyed Toma's sacred spring. He had always know it was the right thing to do. But what was the right thing to do now.


His finger absently traced the face of the girl he had been forced into being engaged with. The one he had secretly grown to love over time, whom he would have done anything for. If only things had been simpler. If only she had felt the same way. If only he could have said how he felt.


His fist clinched, crushing the letter, and he leapt up, heading inside. The whole first floor had been turned into the dojo for his school. Hard wood floors, with a section matted, for ease on students he was personally instructing. He looked around him, at all he had achieved over the years since Furienken High School. All on his own. He had proved that he did not need anyone to help him make it in life. He could survive on his own. But somehow, surviving did not seem to be enough right now.


He began to move slowly, standing alone in the center of the dojo. It was different that the Katas that were the mainstay of Anything Goes Style. This were more fluid, more graceful. Like a dancer, he moved, from position to position, letting his mind clear with each motion, letting his body and mind come closer and closer together, till their was no though beside the next movement. It was a technique he had developed himself, after a short trip through Tibet. Similar to the monks Zen No Mind techniques, it had many practical combat uses, but what he sought now was the focus it brough. And for the first time since he had perfected this ability, it did not work, and he could not help remembering the last time he had seen her...




***********************************************




Their latest fight had been the worst they had ever been in. It had been just after graduation, and things had seemed ok between them. Better than ok, in fact. They had officially started dating, and it looked like they were going to take the engagement seriously. That was, until Ukyou had arrived with a way to cure Ranma. Despite all the travel it involved, Ranma had accepted automatically. Akane had been a lot less that happy. Which was how Ranma found himself upstairs packing.


His cheek carried an ugly purple bruise, from where Akane had punched him. He had been hit by her lots of times, but even at her angriest, she had never tried to truly hurt him as she had with that one punch. Despite the ache of it, he had ignored it ever since it had landed. Getting hurt physically never really bothered him. He had taken harder. It was the things she said that had hurt him the most.


He heard the door open quietly, and someone slip in, in a manner that suggested deep shame. He knew who it was before they had even touched the door. He had know it was her even as she stood outside the door for long minutes, trying to work up the courage to open the door.


"Ranma...?"


He did not look at Akane. He did not want to look. He heard the tears in her voice. He simply continued to pack. She remained standing there, unsure of how to precede.


"Ranma. I'm so sorry. Please talk to me Ranma. Please?" The pleading in her voice almost had him. Almost. It took him a lot to get really angry, but when he did, it took a whole lot more to cool him down.


He hefted his pack, which held everything he absolutely needed, everything he could not bare to part with. It was not a lot. He started to head to the door, and had to stop and stand before her since she barred his way. "Would you mind moving Akane?"


"No! You can't leave. Not like this."


"You said all you needed to downstairs Akane." His voice was surprisingly neutral for how he felt.


She looked down at her feet, ashamed of her earlier behavior. "Please, Ranma. Don't do this."


"You don't trust me Akane, even after all we have been through. I understand that. I guess we were never meant to be together, you know?"


"Ranma... No. You can't mean that..."


"I'm going now, to find this Spring of Wishes. Considering all the places we have to go, I won't be back for a while. Months at the earliest. Don't wait for me Akane. Don't wait for me. And if we are meant to happen, it will happen. I've got to go now." He moved her aside gently, ignoring the renewed tears, and walked in fast, long-legged strides downstairs and out into the early night air. He could barely stand to see her tears, and could not let her see his own, which poured freely down his cheeks as he headed towards Ucchan's.




**********************************************




Ranma came crashing back into reality in a splash of cold water. He, now a well endowed she, spun to find the source. Ami stood there, watching him with a more than irked expression on her face.


"Yo, pop. You going senile in your old age?"


He did not respond to her quip, which normally drove him up the wall. He hated being called old. Instead He/she shook her hair off, and seemed to stare off into space again, for just a brief moment. When Ranma returned to reality, a strangely determined look came to her eyes. "You can teach the class tonight. I have some things to take care of." He was out the door, and heading up the stairs, before yelling the rest out. "Cancel the classes for next week too. We're taking a trip."


Ami was left standing there, a confused look on her face. What was going on here? Her dad never acted like this. Never. She looked down at the picture and letter she had found. And what did it have to do with these people in the picture. Was that her mom in that picture? She looked up to where she could hear him getting a bath ready, and tried to think. "Oh well. A trip means no school." She tucked the two items away, and began to set up the dojo for what she planned to be a truly exerting class, thoughts of what was going on lost to youthful lack of attention.




******************************************




Authors notes: Part one of a little piece I am working on. Let me know what ya think, eh? Of all of this, I really liked Kuno and Nabiki's interaction. I always wondered what would happen when they all grew up. Here is what I came up with.