Energy pulsed through the device at my feet, beautiful spiralling columns of blue, shooting from one side of the crystalline

inner tubing to the other with a faint whine of power. I tapped a few keys on the control board and eyed the manga

on top of the device...

"Well, here goes nothing."

I grinned to myself, flipped the switch, and stepped forward.

My eyes widened as one of the cooling fans blew open the manga to a certain page..

"Ah, SHIT--"

*BZZZZT!*

-----

I had about six seconds to ponder what nothingness felt like before the pleasant sensation of falling a long, long way and into a cold-as-frozen- over-hell pool of water jarred me back to reality. As I looked towards the surface, I could see the glittering and crackling portal (distortedly o- shaped from my point of view) shrink and vanish with an undoubtedly loud thunderclap of a sealing temporal rip.

It was after I realized my control unit had been destroyed by my landing that I really panicked.

"AAAAUUUUUUUUUGHHH!!!" echoed throughout the land as I surfaced, clawing at my hair and cursing my stupidity. I should have appeared in Tokyo, not in some random person's pool! The control unit had

been shorted, so now it meant I was stuck.

...my hair seemed different somehow. Less brown, more red. Less coarse, more silky. Less short, more long...

...I slowly let go of my head and touched my dripping face. More smooth, softer than before...

...in a state of shock, I let my hands dip under the water and brought them to my chest.

My suddenly ample chest that was straining my t-shirt.

I crawled out of the pool, stood up, and looked around, drops of cold water blurring my vision. Despite my impaired sight, however, I could still make out the rotund figure of a chinese man smoking a pipe and sitting next to a sign that said something in Chinese kanji.

"Ah, new visitor to Legendary Jusenkyo Springs," he said, bizarrely enough, in broken english, "you know of legends behind pools, yes?"

"G-guh...gir...l..." I stuttered, my hands still clinging to the firm and large breasts I now sported.

"Yes, that spring of drowned girl," the man said calmly. "You the third traveller to fall in, but first I see fall from sky. You fall from Kirin's barge, perhaps?"

At that point, I figured the wisest thing to do would be fall to my knees and scream like the redheaded girl I had become.

O_o_o_O_o_O_o_O_o_o_O_o_O_o_O_o_O_o_O_o_O_o_O_o_O_o_O_o_O

OTAKU NIBUN NO ICHI

Otaku 1/2

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Ai-yah," the Jusenkyo Guide spat, clutching at his ears, "you louder than first two."

I ignored his comment, still clutching at the fleshy orbs on my torso. My eyes were wide and spacy, and the world was a floating sea of pain and shame.

'I'm a girl.' This was my macho side, manifesting in front of me with a look of utter horror.

'I'm a HOT girl.' My hentai side appeared next, and gave me a lecherous once-over.

'I'm a hot girl, but I'm STUCK HERE!' my realistic side screamed, appearing at my left. He smacked my hentai side so hard the sukebe flew into my macho side. The two merged, then re-merged with me. I was left with my realism.

'We're screwed,' he said sagely, before merging with me once more.

Well, so much for rationally thinking it out.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUGH!" I shrieked again. This was most definitely not going to plan. Within minutes of my arrival in Takahashi-sama's

world, I was without a way to get home and sporting breasts! Glancing

at the Jusenkyo Guide (who was puffing serenely on his pipe) and wishing I wasn't too hoarse to scream again, I pondered what had made this all come to pass...

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

It had started as a simple idea. What would it take to gain access to the world of Ranma 1/2?

I wanted to see it all. I wanted to experience everything. I'd immersed myself in whatever manga, anime, and fanfiction I could get my hands on. Plushies of P-Chan and Shampoo-neko littered my bedroom. Doujinshi was crammed so tightly underneath my bed I occaisionally had to kick the pile. And my wallpaper pattern had long been lost beneath the screen of posters.

It wasn't enough.

My search for an even greater level of Ranma otakudom had been fruitless; I'd been trying for years to achieve a higher level of greatness. All for naught, it seemed.

That was before I visited Anime Central.

The only convention in my area of the United States, and I was there for it all! I basked in the glorious feeling of so much anime, reveled in every cosplayer I saw walk by. I even enjoyed the Viz Panel, though I spent a great deal of time there muttering angrily about what they'd done to Maison Ikkoku.

I was on my way out, carrying eight bags of Ranma merchandise (two in my teeth) when someone tapped my shoulder.

"Hmmph?" I grunted, slowly wobbling around to face him. He was a cosplayer, wearing one of the most...well...not ornate, but definitely more advanced costumes, I had ever seen. A thick, authentic-looking cloak, woven of a simple fabric, that seemed to shimmer and tremble when he breathed. It was definitely handmade, and I couldn't see his face at all, which was odd, considering the hood wasn't very large. "Mmmph mm mm n." (Nice costume.)

"Thank you," he whispered. "But my costume is not the reason that I've tried to get your attention, sir. I--"

He blinked. I was already ten paces away, staring with Happosai's eyes at a doujinshi that featured Ranma-chan embracing a nude Akane on the cover.

"Hey!" the cloaked man growled, tapping me again. I sighed, let the bags in my mouth drop (they were filled with plushies, anyway) and glared at him.

"Look, I said you had a nice costume, but I still have two hundred bucks left to spend here, so if you--"

"I can see you are a large fan of Japanese Animation, sir," he interrupted, pleased to regain my attention. "Tell me, would you find it intriguing if I were to say I had something that would let you have as much anime as you wanted, whenever you wanted?"

The logical part of my mind told me I should've ignored him, but the logical portion of my mind was largely overshadowed by the inflated Otaku portion of said mind (being at my first Con ever helped).

Which is why I found myself in a dark corner of the Exhibition Hall, looking over several exotic-looking items at a booth while the cloaked figure rummaged through his stock.

"How come I didn't see this booth earlier?" I asked, peering at a tuxedo set with a boquet of roses and black mask that looked oddly familiar.

"Eh?" he looked back at me for a moment. "Oh, uh, well, you know, Anime Expo's hustle and bustle, you probably just didn't notice it."

"We're at ACen." I leaned over the counter and blinked at the large, canvas- wrapped cross lying behind it. Did I smell gunpowder...?

"Oh, right, ACen, my mistake," he laughed nervously. "Now, sir, you are very interested in Ranma 1/2, yes?"

"Yeah!" I said, immediately in full Otaku mode. "Iknowit'skindofa weirdshowbutifyouexaminehowweirdotheranimecanbeandhowingenious Takahashi- samaisandhowinterestingallthecharactersareandhowpopularitis andIknowpopularityisn'talwaysareasontolikesomethingChristlookatthe BackstreetBoysbutSTILL-"

"All RIGHT!" he shouted, cutting me off. "I understand. And I have something right up your alley, sir...something that will let your fandom rise to new heights! It's the best peice of merchandise I've acquired in all of my travels, and I'm willing to sell it to YOU!" he pointed at me with a long, bony finger. It bumped against my chest and bent the wrong way with a dusty crack.

"Uh..." I said tentatively, as he hopped up and down in pain. "Maybe I should get you some-"

"I'm fine!" he snapped, grabbing the finger and bending it back into place. It settled into its proper position with a creaking sound that made my jaw set. "Now, you said you had two hundred dollars, correct, sir?"

"Yeah," I replied, tilting my head slightly as he turned away again and hefted something wrapped in white cloth. He set it down on the counter with a dull thump.

"This is your ticket to a greater Otakudom, sir. I suggest you buy it." I caught sight of his eyes, finally, underneath that hood. They gleamed with anticipation. "It is a machine that allows you to access dimensions...any dimensions."

My eyes lit up. "Even the one from that hentai vid where all the women are-- "

"No, not that one," he said, shaking his head sadly. "I attempted to reach it, and all I got was a reception of Tentacle Demons..." We both shuddered. "In any case...I'm willing to let it go for exactly two hundred dollars."

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

"WHY IN GOD'S NAME DID I GIVE THAT GUY TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS?!" I wailed, slamming my disturbingly soft-skinned fist down on the Jusenkyo Guide's table. He glanced at me, muttered something in Chinese, then looked to the stove.

"Hot water is ready, Honored Visitor. You want food?"

I started to say yes, then hesitated. "What would we be having?"

"I caught a chicken."

"...is there a Spring of Drowned Chicken?"

He blinked at me. "Yes. Why ask?"

Wordlessly, I grabbed the kettle off the stove, rushed out of his house, and ran like hell out of Jusenkyo. I don't know how long I ran for, but when I finally smashed head-on into a tree, it gave me clarity enough to sit down and think. Once I stopped clutching my forehead in pain, anyway.

"Hey." someone spoke from behind me, and I didn't bother turning around.

"Yeah, what?" I mumbled miserably, head in my hands, not bothering to wonder why on earth there was someone wandering through this area besides me.

"How far am I from Furinkan High School?"

My eyes lit up, and I looked back.

"Ryoga Hibiki?"

END PROLOGUE

................

Well, this is an idea that had been dwelling in my mind for quite some time. But I hadn't known how to write it, or what the story would entail. Basic plot: Otaku gets hands on device that allows him to enter dimension of his choice, then promptly gets stuck there, and cursed, to boot.

Yeah, yeah, it's probably been done. But mine'll be better. Provided I work on it more often than when I stay home sick from school from now on.

Reviews that are constructive are appreciated. Reviews like "d00d this sucks u suck" will be met with many flying attack porcupines.

They're hungry, folks.

Bard out.