Disclaimer: The author of the following narrative entertainment wishes it known that the various principals involved, specifically the characters from the whimsical periodical known as Ranma ½, are here used with neither the knowledge nor the permission of their creator. Neither are the elements of the world of Castle Falkenstein his, and all rights and privileges for these materials remain in the hands of those who by law carry them. It ought also be advised that some characters shall not remain as they are commonly perceived, and many unusual events will unfold. While reviews are accepted, we ask that you remain civil and above all do not seek to inform us of these deviations, given that you are hereby warned of them beforehand. Thank you.
Victorian One-Half
A Brief Prologue To Our Tale(in which certain unpleasant details must be noted)
To begin with, best beloved, you must understand that Saotome Ranma was missing and presumed dead. One fine afternoon in late spring, just after school, his reluctant fiancée had propelled him skywards with her mallet of feminine fury. The cause of her ire was an unfortunate misunderstanding over a misheard statement by the young stalwart. This, I must sadly hasten to note, was considered perfectly normal by the locals, which tells you a great deal about the young man's life up until that point—all that was wrong with the world was laid, more or less directly, upon his young shoulders.
Everything was always his fault, and if there was any ever doubt on that point one needed only ask his primary fiancée, her father, his father, or any of his many rivals. Even his other fiancées would agree that the continuing argument over who would wed him had only gone on so long because he was indecisive (equally binding yet mutually exclusionary demands on his personal honor notwithstanding).
I mention these things, best beloved, so that you will understand why nobody bothered to worry when he failed to reappear at once. After all, he might have been with one of his many fiancées, or on a training trip, or simply sulking like the dishonorable little girl his father said he was. It took a week before the full impact of his absence was felt. By then, the fog of suspicion had settled over the household where he had been a guest. Mutual recriminations and suspicions flew, beatings happened, and all through it the one person most directly responsible for his disappearance, his most reluctant fiancée, maintained that it was 'that pervert's' responsibility. All this anger and suffering, all because a young man happened to disobey the common wisdom that what goes up inevitably returns to earth again.
Would that I could lie and say that because of his absence Tendo Akane learned anything of worth! Oh, she learned lessons: her sister Kasumi found an excellent counselor for her, and the angry young woman finally got a much-needed opportunity to put her life back into perspective. Her own sins were laid bare for her to examine, and she dealt with this as well as any other person might. As for the others…some of them also sought counseling, but most just drifted on like anchor-less boats along an alien shore, obeying the sirens calling them to new fixations. We need not dwell on them just yet. For now, let us consider the other Tendos and Saotome Genma.
The loss of his son hit the old panda very hard, harder perhaps than anyone expected it might. He simply disappeared one night, leaving nothing behind save for a note apologizing for all the trouble. He became a ghost, tracked only by hints and rumors: he turned himself in and went to prison. He committed seppuku. He was back on the road with Happosai and terrorizing Tahiti. He was in America, riding with the Hells' Angels. What the truth might be, not even Tendo Nabiki could determine with any certainty.
With the loss of his fondest dream and his best friend, Tendo Soun shattered for the last time. He spent his days next to the shogi board, composing solemn haiku and chain-smoking cheap cigarettes.
Kasumi took over as the head of clan and made arrangements for her father's care as best she could. In her turn, the young woman sought out and proposed marriage to Doctor Tofu…on the condition that he take the Tendo name. Negotiations on that matter were delicate and protracted, but the wedding was probably going to happen within a year.
Nabiki departed to attend Todai University after making sure there would be more than enough money to keep the estate in the family in spite of the inheritance tax, just in case Daddy 'forgot' to give it to Kasumi as a wedding present. Of all the players in this little drama, she escaped with the fewest direct scars. There is perhaps little justice in that, but these things do happen.
Akane dealt with things one step at a time. She returned to school after a brief absence. The Hentai Horde, leaderless after Kuno Tatewaki's graduation, left her alone. Her few remaining friends closed around the guilt-ridden and grieving girl like bodyguards. The matter of Ranma's disappearance was simply not discussed. It was also not forgotten: Akane, once among the most popular girls at Furinkan High, became its most obvious pariah. She even dated Gosunkugi Hikaru a few times out of sheer desperation. Nothing ever came of these dates, for which she was later quite grateful.
Then, best beloved, almost a year to the day after the last part of the great house of cards came crashing down, Akane returned from school to find her father passed out on the back deck and a strangely familiar young man seated at the dining room table. He had neatly cut short black hair pulled back in a ponytail, some sort of antique uniform, and Kasumi's full attention. He looked up when she came into view, and for just a moment she was lost in those warm blue-grey eyes and that all too familiar smile.
"Ra…Ranma?"
"In the flesh. Hello again, Miss Akane. You look well."
"Ranma? Is…you look…you…" Akane sat, her mouth opening and closing in astonishment. "But you…you're dead!"
"Am I?" Ranma made a show out of patting himself gingerly. "No…no…I am very sorry to disappoint you, but I'm very much alive. I have simply been away." He smiled politely. "There was an extraordinarily strange event, quite improbable in scope, which has occupied my time until recently."
Akane shook her head. "I…this is…where were you? What happened? When did you get so formal?" She swallowed. "Why…why come back?"
"There are certain matters which might require delicate handling in order to achieve harmonious closure." Another polite smile touched his lips. "As it appears that my sire has decided to flee even this responsibility, I suppose it falls to my humble skills to resolve everything. I wish I could say that this was a surprise."
Akane glanced at Kasumi, who giggled softly and translated: "Ranma-kun felt it would only be proper to return and set all his affairs in order."
"Oh. You'll be leaving again?" Akane could not keep a hint of disappointment out of her voice. Much as she had fought tooth and nail against the engagement, much as she had struggled to come to grips with her strange, clueless, sex-changing fiancé, the thought of losing him again was hard to swallow.
"That, I regret to inform you both, is quite possible." He coughed politely. "It is not yet a given, however. I might find it in my heart to remain here, assuming my return will not cause more difficulties than my unanticipated departure?"
Akane turned to Kasumi once more. "Ranma-kun might stay, but only if he thinks things won't go crazy again," the elder sister provided.
"Just so," he nodded.
"Ranma?"
"Yes, Miss Akane?"
"When did you get so formal? And what's with the uniform? Where have you been, you baka?" Akane, very much against her will, found the old anger returning. She also found herself crying openly. "I thought I'd killed you!"
Ranma just smiled. "I've had elocution and etiquette lessons from a lady of genuine breeding. The uniform is an honorary one, courtesy of a friend. As to my whereabouts…ah, but I do not think you would find it of interest. I am returned. Shall that not suffice?"
Kasumi smiled at him. "Please, Ranma-kun? You always have the most interesting stories!"
"If it means that much to you, Miss Kasumi, then I shall have no choice but to oblige." He glanced at Akane. "Yes, you did nearly kill me. However, if memory serves, ours was not the most placid of relationships. While the majority of this was the doing of our fathers, I bear my own share of the blame for what transpired. And as you will learn, had you not acted as you did, then many innocent people might have suffered. For their sakes, if not my own, I bear you no ill will for your actions."
He leaned back, knit his fingers together around one knee, and began his tale.
"This all started during what passed for a normal day at Furinkan High School. In the course of a misunderstanding, Miss Akane launched me skywards with her mallet. Under normal circumstances I might have expected to return to terra firma swiftly enough. On that day, however, something most extraordinary happened…"
Chapter the First(in which Our Hero gets a headache and meets some familiar faces)
Reflect for a moment, best beloved, on what has been described thus far. Our hero was trapped between equally compelling arrangements. He was forced to dwell amongst those who made him a scapegoat for all their iniquities. At the same time, he was constantly berated for his inability to undo the Gordian Knot of his life from within. Lesser men would have gone mad, and only his peculiar blend of ignorance and stubbornness preserved him from that fate. This is not to say that he did not have faults of his own! Far from it…but when he was accused of error, he was not granted positive lessons to accompany them and thus seek the proper forms of behavior.
One might almost be tempted to see the hand of Providence, if not the whimsy of Fate, in what transpired that afternoon. His intended did indeed launch him by means of her instrument of feminine vengeance, and he flew high over the township of Nerima. However, for reasons insufficiently clear to this author, on this particular occasion he also chanced upon a tear in the dimensional wall and shortly thereafter collided with an unexpected obstacle.
His narrative resumes along with the return of consciousness and is told from here forward in the third person for the sake of clarity.
Ranma awoke with a splitting headache…and backache…and body-ache, for that matter, as if he had been body-slammed by Ryoga. Lifting his head, he blinked in confusion. This was not the guest room at the Tendos! This was neither Doctor Tofu's office, nor the Nurse's Station at Furinkan High. It was small and neat to the point of being spartan, like a ship's cabin. From somewhere came the sound of an engine. Was he on a train? No, no clickety-clack of tracks from underneath. A ship, then? But this ship did not rock upon the waters. The riddle would have occupied him for a while if the sound of approaching footsteps had not distracted him.
The door swung open, and for a moment Ranma nearly panicked! Before him stood Happosai, but not as he had ever seen the diminutive master. For one thing, the tiny pervert now sported a full silky white beard, a workman's cap, and coveralls.
"Oh," Happosai commented in a gruff tone. "You're awake. Stay here, boy, while I fetch the Doctor."
The door closed. Ranma blinked. Was that Happosai? The little old man had not sounded like the panty-thieving bane of Ranma's life…
The door swung open again almost at once, and a man who might have been Doctor Tofu's older brother stepped inside. Happosai followed with him, leaning in the doorframe and crossing his arms. Ranma suffered the Doctor's poking and prodding for a few moments, idly noting that while he looked like Doc Tofu with ten more years on him and a mustache, the man had a very different style.
"How do you feel, my lad? Any soreness? Ringing in the ears? Lightheadedness?"
"Uh…yeah. I hurt all over. No ringing in the ears or nothin'." Ranma's stomach growled. "Yeah, yeah, and I'm a bit hungry. What hit me, anyway?"
"The hull," Happosai snorted, only to be shushed by Doctor Tofu.
"My curmudgeonly companion speaks the truth: you collided with our vessel at a fair velocity. Put quite the hole in it, to boot. And yet here you are, still very much alive."
"A ship? In Nerima?"
"Ah. We're in Yokohama, my dear boy. You must have rattled your brains in the collision. Still, you seem to be healthy." Ranma's stomach growled again. "Very healthy indeed," the Doctor chuckled. "I shall report your status to the owner, and then I believe she will wish to speak with you about the damages."
"Damages?" Ranma winced. Not again!
"You did put a hole in the hull," Happosai grumbled. "We'll have to put in for repairs. That won't be cheap, not here. Not even if we simply buy the material and fix her ourselves."
"That's for Her Ladyship to determine. Keep an eye on him, would you? I must make my report." Doc gave Ranma a polite smile. "Chin up, lad. I doubt it will be all that bad." He left Ranma and Happosai to glower at each other.
"Sorry 'bout the boat," Ranma frowned. "Ain't like I aimed for it, ya know."
"Likely true," the Dwarf grudgingly admitted after a moment. "Quite likely true. Still makes me wonder how you got up all this way."
"Up? What d'ya mean, up? Doc said we're in Yokohama…"
"More or less." Happosai grinned wickedly. "This is an aeroship. We're two thousand feet up."
Ranma stared at the short, bearded man, and stared…and stared some more, waiting for him to announce that this was a joke, that he was just fooling. Had he found the words, doubtless some general remark on the ability of an uncute tomboy to use her gorilla-like strength to propel his person to such an unlikely altitude would have been forthcoming. Instead, even as the Dwarf leered at him with ill-disguised amusement, Ranma received his next shock.
Kuno Kodachi appeared in the doorway, and at once he flailed against the bedclothes, trying to defend himself from the incoming rose of drugged sleep or glomp of death or whatever attack she would make while still seeking to gain more distance between them. Certain details took a moment to sink in—she was older, her hairstyle was different, and unless Kodachi had taken to dressing in something archaic and Western, her Victorian dress was almost certainly not from the Kuno wardrobe. Then the woman turned to speak to the Happosai lookalike, and all similarity fell from Ranma's mind.
"Are you quite certain he's still sane? The boy acts like a lunatic," she said in a crisp voice, more like Nabiki's than Kodachi's. "Or perhaps I am suddenly frightening to behold?"
"S-sorry," Ranma muttered. "Thought ya were someone else…"
"Indeed," the woman narrowed her eyes. "Doctor Simms says you are well enough, considering your manner of arrival. What is your name, boy?"
"I'm Saotome Ranma. Uhm. Sorry 'bout this."
"I see." She turned to the Dwarf. "Find him something decent to wear, if you please, and bring him out to the bow. Let him understand the nature of his predicament." Then she swept out.
Happosai chuckled softly. "Ah, you've insulted Her Ladyship! I'd feel sorry for you if you hadn't damaged Thomas."
"Thomas?"
"The ship. Let's get you some proper clothes. All will be explained before we throw you back over the side, I'm sure."
In short order this was done, although the only spare clothing they had that fit Ranma properly was a regimental officer's uniform from Her Ladyship's quarters. While the Dwarf (who eventually disclosed that his name was Sparklebrook) found this amusing, he would not explain why. After making sure that Ranma was presentable, he led the boy up onto the deck, chortling all the while.
Here, Ranma found that his hosts were not deceiving him in the slightest—while the city spread out below him was indeed Tokyo by the coastline, he could not make out more than a few of the most ancient of landmarks! This, he supposed, was what Tokyo must have looked like a hundred or so years in the past. Other than that…well, thanks to Akane, he'd seen Nerima from the air often enough.
"Wow…"
At the bow, the Dwarf introduced him briefly to Doctor Simms, another tall man with a shaggy mane of blonde hair clad in a red velvet suit whose name was apparently Simon, and…
"Her Ladyship the Honorable Victoria Elizabeth Walsingham, Countess without Portfolio."
Kuno Kodachi's lookalike regarded Sparklebrook with an icy glance.
"The Ship's Engineer is technically correct," she conceded with a tone that implied that this was not a point she enjoyed mentioning. "I am of rank, but not necessarily of title. And you, young man, you are…Saotome Ranma, you said. You are Japanese."
"Uhm, yeah." Ranma rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. "Sorry about the hull. I didn't mean to, but I guess the tomboy really put her back into it."
The blonde man suddenly sneezed. "Milady?"
"Quiet, Simon. What do you mean with this nonsense about tomboys?"
Ranma sighed. "My fiancée has a temper, okay? I said something, she took it wrong, and kapowie! Here I am."
Another sneeze. "Milady? A word?" Simon sounded suddenly miserable, as if his sinuses had suddenly clogged up.
"And you expect that I shall believe this? That a ruffian such as yourself might insult a lady, that I can believe all too well! But that she might indelicately take to such a violent response as to propel you this high against the laws of physics…Simon, will you control yourself?"
Simon blurted miserably. "I am, as you know, quite allergic to dimensional energies. Our guest reeks abominably of the very same!"
As he lapsed into another sneezing fit, the Countess looked at Ranma a little more carefully.
"You are an engaged man? I find this somewhat improbable."
"Yeah, I am," Ranma sighed. At least knowing that this wasn't really Kodachi made it a little easier to relax. "Eight times that I know about. Prob'ly dozens that I don't. It's all Pop's fault, before ya ask. I ain't no pervert, whatever the tomboy thinks."
The Countess blinked. "I see. Or rather, I do not see. But Simon's nose is quite sensitive about such matters, and there is a certain delicious irony involved if he is correct about you."
She smiled, and Ranma almost wished she'd go back to glaring—it was a calculating smile, very much like Nabiki's!
"Doctor, is our Wild Horse in reasonably good health, aside from his poor breeding and worse manners?"
"Actually, yes. There are a number of old injuries and scars that I noticed while examining him, but other than those, he appears quite healthy considering the speed with which he hit us."
The scheming smile widened.
"Have you any skills, boy?"
Ranma would regret his answer for some time: "I'm the heir to the Anything Goes school of Martial Arts," he said out of sheer reflex. "I'm the best there is!"
"Modesty is obviously not one of your strong points," the Countess observed. "What else?"
"What else? Uhm…is there anything else?"
"Oh dear. Oh, dear me. You would seem to be rather focused on one particular activity. And…the heir to a family style of Oriental pugilation, is it?"
Simon sneezed again, whipped out a handkerchief, and blew his nose before commenting miserably: "The martial arts, Milady, are hardly mere fisticuffs! As it may interest you, some of my local kinfolk play patron to certain clans who practice the same. If our…ahhhh-choo! If our guest is as good as he says, your problem is solved."
"Huh?" Ranma tilted his head. "Whaddya mean?"
Simon sneezed violently, fixing a baleful and red-rimmed glare in Ranma's general direction. "Although a touch more education might not go amiss," he added.
"I agree," the Countess nodded. "Nonetheless. You say you are the best?"
"Been trainin' since I could walk," Ranma puffed out his chest. "My old man took me on a ten year training trip, too."
"That would explain some of the injuries," Doctor Simms muttered.
The woman nodded soberly.
"I see. Are there any other interesting tidbits I ought to know before I decide on your fate?"
This, of course, is the cue for some form of cold water to strike our hero and trigger that transformation which is the central paradox of his frenzied struggle for sanity. In this case, the cause was poor Simon, who at that very moment was attempting to chase a curative with a large glass of cool water. A sneeze came upon the miserable fellow and as might be expected our hero was in the path of the resulting redistribution of fluid.
Dripping wet, looking down at her body with considerable disgust and annoyance, Ranma answered with all the long suffering and sour disappointment she could muster: "Just a curse, thanks."
The Doctor blushed and turned away. Ship's Engineer Sparklebrook rolled his eyes as if to say 'that's a curse'. Simon had another sneezing fit. And the Countess?
The Countess gave Ranma a long, slow, head to toe examination before repeating that chilly, Nabiki-like smile of hers.
"Well, well, well. And do you revert to the masculine form?"
"Y-yeah. I just need warm water."
"I see." The Countess turned her icy smile to the others. "Gentlemen, I have my new bodyguard. Please render Saotome-kun all necessary assistance in getting settled."
"…and that, more or less, is how I joined the crew of HMS Thomas Olam as Her Ladyship's personal attendant and bodyguard. Unpaid, naturally, until such time as my accumulated salary equalled the cost of repairs to the aeroship." Ranma sipped his tea. "Needless to say the first few days were rather stressful! But soon enough Her Ladyship and I came to a passable agreement on delicate matters and things improved thereafter."
Akane clenched and unclenched her fists under the table, fighting down the impulse to hit her former fiancé. Old habits die hard, but if she hit him now, yelled at him, he'd leave again.
"Oh, my! Wasn't that improper?" Kasumi blushed slightly and refilled his teacup.
"Not in the least," Ranma smiled. "Her Ladyship neither needed nor desired my presence on board the ship. She's an independent woman of means. The very thought of being waited on hand and foot offends her deeply! I merely accompanied her whenever she appeared in public away from the ship. For example, I soon found out why she desired to secure a bodyguard…"
To Be Continued in:
Victorian One-Half
Chapter the Second
Wherein the reasons underlying Her Ladyship's peculiar choice in bodyguard become clear, Ranma receives his first lessons, sartorial arrangements are improvised, and Simon Vassal has a lie-down.