Ryoga never expected to meet a girl, especially not in a place as foreboding as this. Nor could he have imagined that one would, quite literally, trip over him. However, that's exactly how he met Ranko. From the moment he saw her, Ryoga knew she was in some kind of trouble, and it wasn't long before he offered to help her. Not only that, he gave her his solemn pledge. He could never remember being as forthright with any woman as he was with her. And, though she was a complete stranger, something about her just made him feel right. Then, the thought occurred to him that maybe he was destined to meet her, and maybe, just maybe, he felt the way he did simply because he was supposed to. If not destiny, what might've fueled Ryoga's decision to help Ranko was simple compassion. He simply could not stand to see a girl cry, and agreeing to help her just seemed the right thing to do.

"Anything to stop her from crying," Ryoga thought. Absently, he studied her sitting there beside him on the grass. He hadn't noticed before, but the keikogi she wore seemed exceedingly large for her small frame. Most notably, the trousers fit far too loosely to have been made in her size, and the sleeves intended for longer arms. He thought her attire gave her an awkward and, however unintentional, comical appearance. He chuckled inwardly, and then chided himself, realizing what bad manners it was to poke fun at someone without their knowing. "Besides," he thought, taking a moment to assess the state of his own clothes, "I, of all people, have no right to criticize her, when mine look just as bad, if not worse."

Then, Ryoga saw Ranko's black hair, pulled back in that single pigtail, and remembered.

"Ranma!" he shouted suddenly, and she nearly jumped into a tree from the shock. He, in turn, could not help chuckling at the severity of her reaction. "I apologize, Ranko san. My passion sometimes gets the better of me. I didn't mean to startle you, but I just remembered someone whom I hate very much. Never fear, as the anger I feel for him is not intended towards you."

"Well, that's a relief." She said jokingly, in an effort to lighten the mood. "I'd sure hate to be on your bad side, Ryoga!" Then, she made an effort to sit nearer to him, and he felt himself blushing as she did so. But, as Ranko tried to get closer to Ryoga, Ranma backed away. He was astounded by the sheer force of his rival's anger, and tried his best to rationalize it.

"Wow," he thought. I never knew Ryoga hated me so much. What could I have done to him to make him so angry?" Then he realized that the only thing shielding him from Ryoga's unfathomable fury was this woman's body, and the fact that Ryoga now thought he was an entirely different person. So, essentially he was hiding, hiding in plain sight. Then, the thought of Ryoga hating him, coupled with his father's selfish manipulation, struck a chord in Ranma as well as in Ranko. Again, she became distant, faced with the cold reality that she had no real friends, and no other relations besides a forgotten mother and a father who made a habit of using her for his own personal gain.

Then, Ranko broke away from Ryoga, and ran into the woods, careful to keep her face hidden from him, as she wasn't about to let him see her crying again. Bad enough he had already seen her cry once. He caught her in a weak moment, and took pity on her. More than anything, Ranko hated that he should feel sorry for her. To be the recipient of his compassion, however well intentioned, made her feel weak. Weakness was something she exploited in those less powerful, less experienced than her, but never had Ranko imagined she'd have to actually deal with it, until now.

Ranko looked down at herself with disgust. She felt like a freak, thanks in part to the cursed spring, but mostly thanks to her stupid father, and his inability to read even the simplest Chinese. As a girl, her strength was considerably diminished. Her arms and legs became shorter. However, given enough time, Ranko was confident she could adapt to any of the disadvantages inherent to this new body. And, if need be, she might even learn to live with it. But, what affected her far worse than the physical shortcomings was the ever present humiliation of being a woman, at the cost of her manhood.

Ranma had prized his manhood above all other things, even his life. He would've never guessed it could be so easily taken away. In fact, up until he fell into that infernal spring, he had not the slightest idea such a curse even existed. Not that Ranma had anything against women. He just never wanted to be one himself.

When Ranko ran away from him, Ryoga considered going after her, but decided not to. Honestly, he was relieved she broke away when she did. Sitting next to her made him realize just how unaccustomed to women he was, and especially not used to a girl being as forward as Ranko seemed to be. Watching her leave, he knew she was crying again, though she tried so hard to hide it from him. And, once again Ryoga felt pity for her. He pitied her reluctance to accept his help, help he would offer gladly, if she would but let him. So far, she had said very little to him about her actual affliction.

Ryoga wondered, "Does she not trust me well enough to tell me what's wrong, even though I promised to help her?" Then, for some reason the word "help" seemed to stick in his mind. He said he would help her, but the word was nonspecific as to how. Then, in a flash of brilliance, Ryoga realized that perhaps one of the best ways to help Ranko san was by becoming her friend. And, from what he'd seen so far, she seemed in desperate need of one, as was he.

It was then that Ranko came back to sit with Ryoga again, some ways apart. And, for the first time, she asked him a truly personal question. She hesitated at first; afraid of the answer he would give. Finally, the words came. Soon as they left her mouth, she knew it was too late to call them back, no matter how much she may have wanted to.

"Ryoga?" she asked, "Why do you hate Ranma?"

Immediately, she regretted ever uttering those words, for the look that appeared upon his face was the meanest expression of silent rage she had ever seen, and that was just from hearing the name Ranma. Words alone could not express the sheer weight of his anger, anger that was, in fact, directed at her, though Ryoga himself didn't know it. Realizing this frightened her, made her sad. And yet, she thought it strangely ironic that this man, so determined to help her, and seeming so gentle and kind, would probably try to kill her if he knew the truth.

Finally, she sighed, while the two of them remained apart.