Sometime in the past
Earth Parallel
The sound of smashed foliage and breaking branches echoed through the forest as an overweight Japanese man in a dirty white martial arts gi ran at near breakneck speeds, ignoring everything that tried to slow him down. Leaves were tangled in what remained of his hair, a large bandana covering the baldness that had developed. The front of his outfit bore a trio of slashes across the chest, adorning in an edging of blood from the wounds beneath. Sweat glistened on his brow as he dodged quickly to the side, narrowly avoiding a slash from the person trailing behind him.
Skidding to a stop, the martial arts master, known as Genma Saotome, turned to regard his pursuer. No more than a boy, the young man crotched on all four limbs, back arched in a display of anger more commonly associated with those of a feline nature. The sound that escaped past his lips wasn't human, a low growl that came out as more of a hiss than anything natural to the human tongue.
Genma regarded the boy for a moment before pushing up the pair of glasses ever present upon his face. A scowl adorned that same face as he looked at the boy. "Now Ranma! Stop trying to kill your father. Oh why have the Gods cursed me with such a disrespectful son?"
Genma never got the chance to search for an answer to his supplication as Ranma took that moment to charge forward, hands outstretched as if to strangle his father. With a yelp, the old man dodged backwards, narrowly avoiding the attack before spinning out from under the boy and resuming their earlier run. Instead of crashing through the brush, Genma managed to avoid most of the objects that had previously distracted him, bouncing off branches and rocks and soaring through the air, his yowling son in hot pursuit.
Off in the distance, towards the horizon, a shaft of piercing white light stabbed down from the heavens, as though a bright beacon calling towards those in the area. Genma wasn't one to question signs from the Gods, even though he really wasn't concerned about how he had earned such a blessing. He steered towards that distant spot, each moment a narrow escape from the attacks from behind. How could the boy have gotten so fast? Through a supreme effort of will, Genma urged his body onwards, faster and faster until he was finally able to outpace the boy.
Skidding into a clearing, Genma caught sight of a group of men dressed in all black combat fatigues. He didn't recognize any of the insignia or the style of the uniforms, but that didn't mean much in the outer edges of Japan. There was any number of secret government units that operated beyond public vision. The only thing that truly mattered about those men, besides the fact that they were clearly heavily armed, was that they were directly in his path to escape from the boy.
In a flash of brilliant insight, Genma bolted towards the group, channeling some power into his legs and leapt, easily clearing the dozen or so men. If they even were men. Glancing back at the soldiers for a moment, he shook his head. There was no reason for people easily topping seven or eight feet tall to be out here. They just had to be part of some government project that would get him killed just for even knowing about it. Time to put some distance between him and them. Hopefully the soldiers or whatever they were would be able to slow the boy enough that Genma could find somewhere to hole up until he recovered and the boy settled down for a bit. Landing on the far side of the gathering, he managed to not even stumble, not even sparing a glance behind him. Once he was clear of the soldiers he ran as fast as he could. He didn't want to be around when the boy started attacking armed men. Or experiments. Or whatever.
Standing slightly apart from the armed figures was a non-descript man in plain black clothing, just shy of six feet tall, with short dark hair that was styled in a simple wave that flowed from his brow to the back of his head. Nothing else about him set him apart, save for the eyes. Darkness swirled within the gateways to the soul, with no white showing at all. It was as if his eyes had been engulfed in shadows, a twisting mire that changed from moment to moment. Those same eyes were focused on the rapidly approaching figure of Ranma. With a sharp command, he pointed towards the feral boy, the soldiers snapping to attention and training their weapons on the boy.
There was a snarl of rage from the insanity induced boy as he sensed the hostility directed towards him. Skidding to a stop a good ten meters from the assembly, Ranma crouched on all four limbs, back arched, a feral growl rumbling within his diminutive chest. For a brief moment no one moved, each waiting for the other to make some sign as to their intent, though for the little cat fist martial artist, he was already well aware of their intent. The waves of focus directed at him were nearly overwhelming, a sense of so many competitors for his area that he needed to answer, needed to head the call to attack, to drive the usurpers from his territory.
A stray breeze ghosts across the clearing, stirring the pigtail resting against the boy's nape. It was the silent herald of combat, as each party sprang towards the other. Ranma twisted his body around a blue bolt that flashed past him from the strange weapons wielded by the even stranger men. Another bolt flashed by, narrowly avoided as Ranma tucked into a roll, crashing into the side of one soldier like a whirling ballistic missile, arms and legs flying out to scratch and claw. Tears opened up in the various uniforms and metal screeched in protest at the abuse of being used to deflect blows meant to incapacitate and maim.
Grunts of effort escaped each soldier as they fought to capture the whirling boy, guns and arms reaching and searching for the wild contortionist. One soldier staggered back, a long slash opened up along the side of his face. The damage was already healing as he snapped back into position, diving towards Ranma with his arms outstretched. Ranma ducked at the last moment, kicking up with surprising force, knocking the ballistic soldier into another, sending them both to the ground for a brief moment. Neko Ranma noted the change in numbers for a moment before turning focus back to the remaining combatants who had managed to back up, surrounding the boy.
With a yowl of rage, Ranma dove towards to the nearest body, only to crash headfirst into an invisible barrier. Hanging in midair, he struggled to move, arms and legs whirling in frustration. A small clapping sound from the side caught his attention, turning to notice the approach of the one man who had stayed out of the short scuffle.
"Bravo, my boy, bravo. You have more than exceeded my expectations from when I first sensed you. Though I am enjoying the show, I can't really allow you to damage any of the soldiers or I'd have to requisition more and I do so hate paperwork."Glancing towards the two soldiers just stirring from the ground where they'd been thrown, the man shook his head in wonder. Truly remarkable control, even in the grips of insanity.
Neither soldier looked at all disturbed by the fact that a small boy had handled them so roughly. Professionals as always. But then again, they were engineered to be that way. Fighting machines in service to the military. Shrugging himself out of that quiet contemplation, the first man cocked his head to the side as he watched Ranma continue to struggle against his invisible bonds. Was anything he was saying even getting through to the boy? Shaking his head slightly, he reached out to the boy's mind, trying to make some sense of the surging emotions.
Recoiling from the slight madness, the man narrowed his eyes. There was something definitely wrong with the thoughts that raged within the tiny body. Something had lashed at him when he delved into the boy's mind, as if some force fought to protect the youngling. Reaching out again, he sent tendrils of thought around the dark presence, searching, probing. Each discovery only proved to deepen the frown upon his face. The boy had snapped, walled himself off from a frightening reality, lashing out at all around him. Without harming the boy there was no way to learn what had caused him to become this way, but perhaps.
Stretching out a hand towards the still struggling boy, the dark eyed man rested a warm hand upon the boy's head, interweaving his fingers into the boy's wild hair. "This is going to hurt. A lot. But I fear it is the only way that we can talk." With that said, he sent forth a wave of chaotic energy that crashed through Ranma, stimulating every nerve and sense. A howl of rage and pain rose towards the heavens as the young Saotome fought against the agony, though it was only for a moment. His head slumped forward, body suspended by the invisible force. Only the sound of his breathing gave any sign to the otherwise listless body.
As if a darkness had been pulled away from him, Ranma found the world he had known returned to him, the haze of fear dissolving before his eyes. No recognition entered those sapphire spheres as he turned his gaze towards the man that had forced him away from the madness and back into reality. "Who are you?" His voice was weak, barely croaking out the question, throat raw from his cry of anguish. His entire body ached. What had happened to him? How did he get here? Why did he feel so weak? Where was his father? So many questions flashed through his mind. Young Ranma was at a loss even where to begin.
Regarding the newly awakened boy calmly, the man apart considered his next words carefully. While the madness was gone from the boy, there was still something protecting the boy's thoughts. Though he could force himself past those barriers, he didn't want their relationship to start off in that manner. "My name is Jonathan Avery. I come from a world not unlike your own and I came here looking for you." There you go. The truth is usually the best way to go with someone like Ranma.
Ranma cocked his head to the side, the only thing he really had the energy to do, though he continued to test the field holding him in the air. "Why me?" The answer was barely whispered, like his earlier question. Ranma didn't think it was very impressive the way he was speaking right now but it was hard to force anything else out. Frustrated at the way he was feeling, he drew in the energy around him like his father had taught him, trying to accelerate his healing. Suddenly the field holding him in the air winked out and he feel to the ground with a startled yelp.
Jonathan could only grin in surprise. My but this boy certainly is talented. Absorbing chaos energy by instinct and control. This is even better than I had hoped. "Well my boy, I'm here to continue your training. I had to wait until your father completed his little task before you would be ready but after the Cat Fist training, you're finally ready to come with us." Left unsaid was that he'd rather have taken the boy before the Cat Fist but his true potential would have remained locked forever without it. Still there were many things unanticipated in the way the boy had developed. Genma had no idea just how special his son really was.
Ranma tried to understand what the man had said. Was this like the times pops had left him at other dojos to learn? "So you'll be training me? Do you have a lot of techniques to teach?" Ah the innocence of youth, so trusting in what they don't understand.
"Trust me Ranma. You'll be learning worlds of techniques, more than you could ever imagine."
Ranma's eyes widened at the thought of more techniques than he could ever imagine. For a moment he tried to imagine how many techniques that might be but after he got past ten he had to stop counting. They would teach him though and he would be the world's best martial artist. Smiling, he stood up straight as his little body would make him, beaming at Avery. "Okay. Do I need to tell pops you're here or does he know?"
Jonathan smiled in response. "Don't worry. He knows what's going on and he will have no regrets about this. You'll surpass his dreams, Ranma. Now come, we have a long ways to travel and I'm sure you're tired." Reaching one hand towards the heavens, he closed his eyes and a shaft of light pierced down from the heavens. When the light finally faded away, no trace was left of Ranma, Jonathan or the group of soldiers except for the marks of combat.
Eighteen Years Later, Relative Time, Earth Parallel Timeline
Earth Prime, Eleven years later relative Time
Ranma sighed as he awoke to the sensation of flying, feeling the cool air flowing through his tank top. Flipping in midflight to reorient himself. Alighting lightly on the rocks on the edge of the koi pond, he shot a glare back the direction he'd flown, frowning at the large man standing in the window, arms still outstretched from the throw.
Standing roughly five and a half feet tall, Ranma was lean and lithe, the plain white tank top and boxers doing little to hide the fighter's physique beneath. Muscles corded and flexed as the raven haired pigtailed boy stood waiting. After living in the Tendo Dojo for over a year, he had become used to the way his father chose to wake him up in the morning, even if he didn't agree with the methods. Not that their morning spars had been anything more than a round of beat the panda. Not since Herb. Not since Saffron.
The boy sighed as he father darted through the window into a predictable pattern of attack, the same way he'd done so every morning for the last six months. Didn't he have anything new?
Genma growled in frustration as he tried to teach his boy a lesson in respect. Easily topping his boy by a head, Genma had all the bulk of a bear, layers of hard fat over layers of even harder muscle. He had earned his prowess as a martial artist and while he hadn't been on a training trip in a long while ( other than the ones he was forced on by the Master ) his constant sparring with Ranma kept him moderate shape. A large bandana covered his head, hiding the baldness beneath. Glasses adorned his nose, glinting in the early morning twilight.
Falling into the same attack pattern he'd been alternating with over the past month or so, Genma pushed himself even faster. He'd known for some time that his son had finally passed him in terms of ability and power, but that didn't mean he didn't have a few things still in store for the disrespectful boy. In the middle of an attack, just as Ranma was blocking with the same defense he'd been using the entire fight, Genma suddenly whirled in, spinning to slammed a hard elbow into Ranma's side.
Staggering slightly, Ranma allowed himself the first smile of the day. So his pops did still have something in hiding? Setting me up to a conditioned defense? Alright then. Let's see how you like it when I take things up a notch. Pouring his ki into his limbs, he darted towards his father, moving even faster than before, nearly blurring with speed.
Genma staggered back under the blinding assault, barely able to block any of the attacks, weathering the ones that got through. Hundreds of punches rained down on him, thudding against his padded hide, earning grunts from the man. A gleam lit his glasses for a moment as he managed to snag Ranma's arm in a classic judo toss, hurling the boy towards the koi pond in surprise. The mighty splash that followed a moment later was music to his ears. It meant he'd won, a precious victory for its rarity. "Oh what a weak little girl I have for a son! Oh why have the god's cursed me with such a disrespectful weakling."
Ranma emerged from the pond, sputtered in indignation. Where one moment there had been the healthy raven haired boy, there was now a healthy red haired girl, shorter even than the boy, though she made up for her lack in height with her abundance of talent. Poor Ranma was afflicted with a curse, one that changed him from boy to girl with the application of cold water, though fortunately hot water changed him back to his birth form.
The boy turned girl nearly hissed as her father. "Whatcha do that for pops? This girl is anything but weak though if I'm weak and I still can beat you, what does that make you?" Moving to the edge of the pond and hauling herself out of the water, she took off her tank top, wringing the water from the soaked white cotton, leaving her assets hanging for all to see. Fortunately the property wall was fairly high, preventing the untimely peeping of the neighbors.
Just as Ranma was putting back on her shirt, a bolt of white light lanced down from the heavens, connecting the earth and sky for one intense moment. Ranma shied away from the light, covering her eyes even as she tried to look away. When she could finally see again she had to blink her eyes in surprise. There in the middle of the yard was him. Sorta.
An older Ranma was standing there, easily six feet tall, his long raven hair bound by silver strands into a long ponytail that flowed down his back, resting between his shoulder blades. A black uniform hugged his large form, broad shoulders filling the clothes with a quiet confidence. Some form of sidearm rested upon his hip, completing the whole military look.
The younger Ranma looked at the older incarnation of herself with awe. The aura radiating around the man was more than she'd ever felt before. More than Herb or Saffron. Just who was he and what further complications in his life was this going to cause? Sighing to herself, the currently female Ranma settled into a relaxed stance, taking nothing for granted. Every other person who had looked like her had tried to kill her, whether evil clone or shape changing martial artist.
Genma nearly tripped over his tongue in shock at the sight before him. The aura was so alike yet so different from what the boy's should be like. His gaze trailed from one Ranma to the next, mind awhirl with the possibilities. Sure the younger Ranma was attractive to the people willing to deal with Genma and engage their daughters in exchange for whatever it is he was after, but this new Ranma opened a world of possibilities.
Strangely enough, the older Ranma seemed to ignore the people around him, instead pulling out a small metal object from somewhere. It was about the size of a book, opening in the same manner and he set about reading the display, pursing his lips in thought. Sharp sapphire eyes quickly scanned the text darting over the display before he looked up, finally acknowledging the other two people in the backyard. "So that is what he meant."
What a cryptic phrase. Younger Ranma shook her head in confusion, not relaxing from her defensive stance. A high soprano carried her voice across the short distance. "Who are you and what are you doing here? If you're here for a challenge you'll need to put it in writing like everyone else. If you're here to kidnap Akane, you'll have to go through me."
A chuckle was not what Ranma was expecting. The older one just grinned. "Are you really what I would have turned out like if I'd stayed with Genma all those years ago? Interesting. Cocky attitude, brash mouth, yet willing to defend those he cares about. The heart of a true warrior. Good to see." He went back to ignoring both men, reading through the information scanning before his eyes, the text glinting off the bright blue orbs that seemed to absorb information.
A soft 'oh my' from the house caught the elder Ranma's attention and he turned to see three ladies standing in the doorway. One was tall with long dark brown hair the flowed down her back before being bound loosely together in a broad ponytail. She had one hand to her lips, barely covering the look of surprise on her face. Ranma glanced at the display. That must be Kasumi.
Next to her was a slightly shorter girl with her hair in a page boy's cut, the short strands framing her face just right to draw out her natural good looks. Though it also seemed to heighten the gleam in her eyes as she trailed her gaze over the elder Ranma. Smiling inwardly to himself, Ranma allowed himself to be examined, twisting and turning subtly to further display the way his uniform fit so snuggly over his hard earned muscles. Now that would be Nabiki.
The final gem was a shorter girl with hair a subtle shade of blue among the raven locks. The glare directed his way was clear evidence of her anger, even without being able to feel her aura. He failed to suppress the chuckle though at the level of embarrassment that seemed to streak through the red haze of anger. Seemed the girl wasn't quite used to his wanton display of flirting, even from across a yard. That would label her Akane.
Looks like leave this year would be interesting after all.