Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the property of Takahashi-san and various other copyright holders who are not me. All obnoxious original characters in this story are actually my own property, dubious honor though it may be.
Spring of Drowned Dojo
The Life and Times of an Aquatransexual Martial Arts Instructor
A Ranma 1/2 comedy fanfic of dramatic proportions
written by Ambulatory Kettle
Part III: Houseguests
"So, Sasuke, please explain to me again why you had to construct this other building here as well as the kendo hall I requested?"
"Building codes, master," Sasuke replied. "This is a residential block, and the city wouldn't allow us to build anything on this land without a house to go with it."
"I see," Kunou said, placing a hand on his chin pensively. "Well, no matter. As long as all else is as it should be."
"Would YOU please explain to ME, Kunou-chan," Nabiki broke in, "how in the world you got a dojo AND a brand new house built here OVER NIGHT? I mean, nobody even heard a thing! Not to mention, what happened to the people who lived here before?"
"Negotiations took several days, but 'tis no complex matter, Tendou Nabiki. Sasuke simply used his union connections to contract a particular shinobi group that specializes in building demolition and construction. As for the former residents, I assure you that they are thoroughly enjoying their early retirement in Okinawa."
Feeling nearly overawed for one of the few times in her life, Nabiki gazed at the new buildings from where she, Kunou, and Sasuke all stood at the edge of the property. The kendo hall was almost as large as the Tendou training hall, and the two dojos made a very aesthetic pair, standing not fifteen meters apart. Towards the front of the lot sat a two-story house, complete in every way, as though it had always been there. It looked quite comfortable and homey. The builders had knocked out one side of the wall that encircled the Tendou residence and dojo and extended it to surround the adjoining new structures - they had even used the same kind of stone so that the additions matched up quite well and looked only slightly newer than the rest of the old wall.
"So you're saying NINJAS built this? All of it? In one night?"
"Not quite, Nabiki-dono," Sasuke corrected. "They subcontracted the plumbing. As a result, there's no running water yet."
If Nabiki were the sort of person who would have ever allowed herself to faint, she would have, right then and there. "Kunou-chan, you have REALLY outdone yourself this time. I mean, I've seen you spend money before, and lots of it, but this... this takes the cake - and eats it too."
"I do not wish to disillusion you to my boundless generosity," Kunou returned, "but I was not the sole patron of this endeavor."
"Oh?" Nabiki prompted, her curiosity piqued.
"Monies for the building of the illustrious Kunou Tatewaki Kendo Hall of course came from the assets of the Kunou estate. However, the cost of this lot, as well as fees for the demolition of all previous structures, were shared between myself and another interested party. Also, the house you see here, while necessary for the sake of legal niceties, is none of my doing."
"What other interested party?" she asked, somewhat baffled. Who, besides Kunou, would want to build a kendo hall at the Tendou dojo?
"Oh, it's done already? Awesome! That was fast."
Nabiki felt her spine go rigid at the sound of that voice.
"NO." She shook her head. "No. No way. Absolutely not."
"Ahem," Preston cleared his throat, pointing at her feet. "I believe you are on my property."
The school bell chimed, signaling the start of morning classes. Gazing out the window at the burgeoning fall colors, Ranma realized how rare it was for him to hear that noise while sitting at his desk instead of racing along the street outside. He'd awakened earlier than usual that morning, his mind filled with visions of the afternoon's upcoming martial arts class. Today was Thursday; it would be his fifth day teaching, and he found he was looking forward to it more each time.
Pop had kept snoring, so Ranma had sparred with Kouryuu instead. It went by faster but felt more productive, since Kouryuu didn't spend the whole morning just trying to one-up him like Pop always did. With the expanded space of the adjoining lot that had suddenly been available as of that morning, Ranma managed to avoid the koi pond and the time- consuming task of explaining his curse yet again.
It had been strangely quite pleasant, to have a leisurely walk to school with Akane, free of any complaint or concern about being late. It had felt as good, if not better, than the morning's workout, like something he would want to do everyday.
Not because of AKANE, of course. No way. He tried to push his mind to other things. Not that he was SCARED of thinking about Akane, about her contented smile in the morning light, about why walking with her had made him feel- No, not with HER! Just WALKING, the WALKING was good. Stupid brain, think about something else, something that makes sense, like martial arts. Akane decidedly did not make sense. Clearly the morning's workout had just left him a little tense and the walk had done him some good, allowing him a bit of an after-stretch, and that was why it had felt good. Yeah, that was it.
The soft, crisp swish of the classroom door opening heralded the likely arrival of Hinako-sensei, but failed to interrupt Ranma's thoughts, which he was steering towards plans for that afternoon. Around him, his classmates started to stand up. That caught Ranma's attention - no one ever bothered to stand for Hinako-sensei.
Rather than their homeroom teacher's childlike form, the more middle-aged (and, in Ranma's mind at least, somehow pelican-like) figure of Omura-sensei stood framed in the doorway. Grudgingly, Ranma got to his feet.
"Due to an unfortunate bubblegum-accident," he was saying soberly, "Hinako-sensei will be in the hospital for the next month or so, and will be unable to attend classes."
"All right!" Ranma's joyful cry was nearly lost in the excited hubbub that threatened to grow into a happy ruckus.
Omura-sensei frowned disapprovingly. "Quiet please." When the commotion had died down into elated silence, he continued, and an uncharacteristic smile broke through his lugubrious-sea-bird expression. "It's my pleasure to introduce my niece- er, I mean, Hinako-sensei's substitute."
He stepped aside to allow someone else to enter. An intrigued murmur spread through the classroom.
At first, Ranma couldn't place where he'd seen those finely arched eyebrows and high cheekbones before. Then it hit him like a block of concrete between the eyes. Pull the hair back into a pony-tail, trade the practical business attire for a karate uniform - Ranma glanced secretly over to where Akane sat, and took in the pleased glow in her eyes. No mistaking it; for the second time that week, Ranma felt like his innards had been spontaneously transformed into industrial piping.
"Hello class," the teacher greeted them. "My name is Sakai Emi. I'll be your new homeroom sensei."
Akane surreptitiously watched Ranma sweat through their morning lessons. Akane felt a little sorry for him, as he sat in rigid silence, obviously dismayed beyond reason by the whole situation. At the same time, she felt a little smug at his discomfort. The tables of authority were turned: the teacher was now the student, and vice-versa. This was one instance in which Ranma simply could not win, and certainly not by virtue of his martial arts skill. Hopefully it would teach him a bit of much needed humility.
Not surprisingly, Emi - or, rather, Sakai-sensei - was mostly ignoring Ranma, which seemed to be making him sweat even more. For the fourth or fifth time (Akane had lost count), Emi's eyes paused on Ranma, her gaze hovering, threatening to call on him, only to move on to someone else. For his own part, Ranma was sitting on his hands.
Ranma seemed to be alone in his anxiety. The other boys in the class were still gazing somewhat starry-eyed at their attractive new substitute teacher. Akane hid a smile behind her hand. She guessed that some of the more testosterone-addle brains at the school might mistake Emi's youthful appearance for a sign that she was somehow vulnerable, or wasn't completely off-limits. Anyone who did was likely in for their own harsh lesson in humility.
A sudden, loud explosion rattled the windows, and a cloud of dust billowed up from the front of the school. Before anyone could even be surprised, Ranma stood bolt upright.
"That'll be for me!" he blurted, and made a break for the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" Emi demanded.
The windows rattled again as a loud voice boomed, "SAOTOME RANMA! COME OUT AND FACE ME!"
"Told ya, gotta go," Ranma shot back over his shoulder as he pulled the door aside and swung out into the corridor at full tilt.
"Hey! You get back here!" Emi shouted after him as she gave chase. Akane followed hot on her heels; she could hear the pounding footsteps of the rest of the class behind her.
Rushing down the stairs and out into the front courtyard, Akane could see that one of the large stone gateposts had been completely demolished. Beside the remains of the gatepost, dust settled around the lone form of Ryouga, a dark glower etched across his features. Under other circumstances, Akane would have been glad to see her erstwhile friend, but it seemed his inexplicable rivalry with Ranma had once again rekindled to the point of vendetta.
"Ryouga, buddy, PERFECT timing! Man, am I ever glad to see you!" Ranma was saying as he rushed out to greet the clearly enraged Ryouga.
Akane sighed. Here, at least, was a challenge Ranma knew how to deal with.
"Shut up and prepare for defeat, Ranma!" Ryouga cried, whipping out his umbrella and making several jack-hammer jabs that Ranma easily avoided.
From there, things just spiraled further out of control - or into control, Akane realized. Ranma's control. Poor Ryouga, Akane thought. Even after all this time, he still can't see when Ranma is leading him straight into a trap.
Emi stepped forward, her determined features making it clear she was prepared to intervene.
Akane grabbed her arm, bringing her up short. "Wait!"
Emi looked at her, puzzled. "Akane, what-?"
"You'll get caught in it," Akane said.
"Caught in what? The fight?"
"No, in the-"
"HIRYUU SHOUTEN HA!"
A blast of wind rushed past them, fueling the sudden rising surge of air that flung the hapless Ryouga high into sky. Akane squeezed her eyes shut until the tearing wind died away into a zephyr.
When she opened her eyes again, she was greeted by Emi's stunned expression, gazing uncomprehendingly at where, an instant earlier, Ryouga had been closing on a now solitary Ranma. "What did he... where did...?" Emi stammered as she brushed her windblown hair out of her face. Ranma just smiled smugly across the courtyard at her.
"I told you," Akane said. "Ranma's REALLY good."
"What's that?" Ukyou was standing on Akane's right, looking up at the sky. "Is that Ryouga up there?"
Akane followed her gaze up. A red spot was descending towards them. It looked like Ryouga's umbrella, but it was floating down upside down, and- suddenly, it snapped shut, revealing Ryouga behind it, falling to earth with the umbrella before him like the nose-cone of a missile.
He used the umbrella to shield himself from the blast! Akane realized. He'd ridden the updraft on his inverted umbrella - and now he was coming straight back down.
"Get outta the way! Hurry!" Ranma was shouting as he dashed towards them, waving his arms and trying to herd gawking students out of harm's way. Akane grabbed Yuka and Sayuri standing nearby and leapt away just as Ryouga came crashing to earth.
The sound nearly deafened her as a huge crater opened up where they had been standing an instant earlier, swallowing up the school's courtyard. Landing beyond the lip of the gaping hole, Akane and her friends went sprawling as a shockwave rippled across the ground, uprooting grass and trees and splintering concrete.
"Cover your heads!" Akane cried as small bits of debris rained down on them.
A moment later, all commotion had subsided, and things were deceptively quite. A pair of worn sneakers landed nimbly in Akane's field of vision. She looked up to see the weird foreigner, Preston, with a female underclassman tucked under each arm.
"What are you doing here?" Akane asked.
"I came down to watch the fight, what else?" he said, as if it should be obvious. He set the two surprised girls gently on their feet, but casually kept an arm around each of their waists. One frowned through her startlement and the other blushed.
"Playboy," Ukyou muttered quite audibly as she stalked up with Hiroshi and Daisuke slung backwards over each of her shoulders by the collars of their shirts.
"All I did was save them," Preston stated evenly, disengaging from his rescuees. "Where I come from it's called chivalry, Ukyou-san."
Akane did a double-take. Ukyou-SAN?
"Oh, yeah?" Ukyou bit back, apparently oblivious to the uncharacteristic honorific Preston had added to her name. She dropped the two boys unceremoniously in the dirt and gripped the haft of the battle-spatula strapped to her back. "Well where I come from, it's called being a PLAYBOY!"
"Suit yourself," Preston replied calmly, clearly refusing to be baited into a fight. Akane couldn't blame him; she couldn't see any reason why Ukyou was being so antagonistic.
Ukyou ground her teeth, but said nothing.
"Did you have to drop us?" Hiroshi complained, rubbing his head as he climbed to his feet.
Ukyou was about to snap at him, but Daisuke broke in, "Looks like we fared better'n most." He removed his hand from his offended rear to point to where Gosunkugi and the rest of the boys in the class lay in the rubble at the edge of the crater, stunned but, by some miracle of dumb luck, otherwise mostly uninjured. Apparently no one else besides Ukyou had bothered to save any boys.
Akane got to her feet and scanned the destruction. She spotted Emi standing near a half-bent tree with a female student she had apparently helped escape the worst of the impact. Akane waved.
"Emi-er, sensei, are you all right?"
Emi, still looking a bit stunned herself, waved back. "We're fine! Where... where's Sao- Ranma-kun?"
"I'm right here," Ranma's voice called. Akane turned to see him emerge from behind the foliage of a toppled tree - carrying a human pyramid of girls across his arms and shoulders.
Anger boiled up inside Akane. "RANMA!"
He gave her a dumbfounded look. "What? What'd I do?"
Most of the girls he was carrying were beginning to blush - especially those seated neatly on his palms, and certainly the one situated directly above his head.
"If I were you, Ranma," Preston was saying with a grin, "I wouldn't look up right now."
"Huh? Why?" He looked up - WHAM! "OW!" - and received a heel to the eye. The girl-pyramid collapsed on top of him as the others all started hitting him.
"Ow, ow! Hey, is this the thanks I get!" he yelped from where he lay huddled in the center of the enraged crowd of girls. Akane was just rolling up her sleeves, ready to wade into the fray and deal out some justice of her own, when someone came tearing past her.
"Stop! Stop it! No more fighting!" Emi shouted, pulling the girls off Ranma left and right. Startled, they stopped pounding on him almost immediately. Akane just blinked, bewildered.
"Look at this mess you've caused!" Emi chastened Ranma angrily as she offered him a hand up.
Ranma waved aside the offer of help with an annoyed flick of his arm and hopped to his feet on his own. "I didn't make the mess, Ryouga did," he griped.
Picking his way over a few dazed classmates, Ranma strode to the crater's edge and crouched down to peer down inside. "Yo, Ryouga!" he called. "You okay? You don't look so hot."
Akane could hear a distinct quaver in Ryouga's voice when it finally floated up out of the massive hole in the ground. "G... give up, Ranma! I've - agh! - I've defeated your Hiryuu Shouten Ha!"
"Don't kid yourself. Even YOU couldn't fall that far without taking serious damage. You look about as healthy as pig-pudding right now, P-chan."
There he goes again, Akane thought. She swore she would never be able to fathom why Ranma called Ryouga "P-chan," of all things, or why it never failed to make Ryouga so mad.
"Don't call me...! Don't call me...!" Ryouga's strained voice came from below.
Smirking, Ranma cocked a hand to one ear, leaning in closer to the pit. "Eh? What's that, P-chan? Can't seem to hear you."
Akane didn't feel like warning Ranma that, while he was busy taunting the helpless Ryouga and his guard was down completely, Emi was striding quite purposely up behind him. In the last few steps, Emi tucked into a roll, flipping forward to bring the back of her foot down squarely on the top of Ranma's head. He never saw it coming. Ranma dropped into the crater like a sack of rocks, an incredibly stupid expression startled onto his face.
Emi got up and dusted herself off, calling down after him, "You're BOTH staying after school to clean this all up!"
"Um... but sensei," Daisuke piped up from the sidelines, "That Ryouga guy isn't actually a student here..."
Emi glared at him. "You want to join them, Daisuke-kun?"
Daisuke swallowed and shrank under her gaze. "No'm," he blurted, and hid behind Hiroshi - who hid behind Preston, who just looked at them both bemusedly.
Her attention drawn in his direction, Emi pointed at Preston. "You. Get back to your own class. The rest of you, follow me; class isn't over yet."
Everyone who was able moved hastily to comply. They clearly didn't dare disobey.
Glancing back only once at the gaping hole in front of the school, Akane joined her classmates in their subdued but hurried shuffle back indoors.
Dummies, Akane thought, trying not to feel sorry for the pair who were likely lying in a heap at the bottom of the crater. She supposed they had only got what they both deserved.
This is just great, Ukyou thought sullenly, as she crossed her arms and leaned against a tree, idly watching a pair of kendoists who had left the new kendo hall and taken to the outdoors to practice. It was the first day since the open house that she had been able to get away from the restaurant, and Ranchan wasn't even here. And, judging by the size of the crater he and Ryouga had to fill in, she would have to be back at work for the dinner rush long before he would be around.
She was just mentally preparing herself for an afternoon of sulking, followed by a busy evening of blessedly distracting work, when an unfamiliar voice broke in on her thoughts.
"Would you care to spar?"
Ukyou looked up and around at the smiling, handsome face that greeted her. Something about the dark-haired young man was strikingly samurai-like, and it wasn't just his kendo outfit.
"Have... have we met?"
The stranger bowed. "I'm called Hasegawa. Hasegawa Piku."
Ukyou stifled a giggle that almost turned into a snort.
"Kuonji Ukyou," she returned, but felt compelled to add, "'Piku?' Are you joking?"
Still smiling, he leaned in conspiratorily. "I never joke, Kuonji-san."
Inadvertently, she found herself sharing in his smile. She sized him up, drawing her battle-spatula. "Alright then, Piku-kun - Hasegawa-san. Let's spar." At the very least, maybe a bit of sparring could help her forget her frustraton at Ranchan's untimely absence from the dojo.
Piku turned out to be a very good kendoist and an excellent sparring partner, offering helpful advice and encouragement, acknowledging her skill, but without the insolence of her last sparring partner, the incorrigible Preston.
"Good, Kuonji-san! Nice counter-oof!"
Catching him for a moment off guard, Ukyou swept Piku's feet out from under him, landing him in the dirt. He smiled appreciatively - then suddenly frowned. Ukyou frowned back, puzzled, but realized he was looking at something just beyond her shoulder.
Someone grabbed Ukyou from behind, pinning her arms to her side. Ukyou's scream mingled with the cry of her attacker.
"Aaaaaaaghhhh!"
"Shampoooo-!"
THOCK. Piku was up on his feet in a flash, striking her assailant a blow to the head, causing him to let her go.
"Mousse, you idiot!" Ukyou rounded on him. "I am NOT Shampoo!"
"You're not?" Mousse, now seated on the ground, pulled his glasses down over his eyes. "Oh. Kuonji-san. But then where's Shampoo?"
"How should I know?" Ukyou snapped at him.
"You mean she's not here? But... she said she was coming here to see Saotome."
"Well Ranchan's not here," Ukyou informed him pointedly. She made a mental note to warn Ranchan that Shampoo was looking for him, and that Mousse was equally likely to give him trouble - assuming Ukyou's path crossed Ranchan's anytime soon, which she hoped but seriously doubted would happen.
Mousse looked around, seeming to take his first good look around the grounds. "Hey... what's with all this new construction? And why are all these people here?"
"It's a DOJO," Ukyou said. "People come here to train."
"But I thought..." Mousse shook his head as if dismissing the train of thought as unimportant, and got to his feet. "If Shampoo isn't here, then there is no reason for me to stay." And with that, he disappeared over a nearby wall.
Ukyou discovered that Piku was gazing at her quizzically.
She smiled, feeling a bit awkward. "Sorry about that."
"You certainly have an odd collection of characters around here," he commented.
"You're telling me," Ukyou agreed wholeheartedly as she bent to retrieve her giant battle-spatula from where she had dropped it when Mousse had accosted her. Straightening, she adjusted her bandoleer. "Makes things a bit difficult for normal people like us, don't you think?"
Piku nodded. "Oh, absolutely."
By the time Ranma stumbled into the dojo, exhausted and covered in dirt, his students were already filing out and leaving for the day. Bewildered, he leaned heavily against the doorframe, searching the blank or puzzled faces of passing students for someone familiar - Pop, Kouryuu, even Nabiki or that Preston kid - to explain what was going on. Had everything just gone on without him? How could they have classes without HIM, Saotome Ranma, THE sensei, the senior instructor?
"Ah, there you are," Kouryuu's voice came from behind him. "Excellent timing. Does this belong to you?"
Ranma turned to discover his fellow instructor holding up an upside-down and very angry-looking Shampoo, dangling by her ankles from his grip. He wisely kept her at arms length.
"Let Shampoo go, stupid man!" she fairly shrieked at him, flailing wildly. Levering herself up, Shampoo tried to pry his fingers apart, without success. She flopped back down and let loose a stream of what Ranma could only guess was searing Mandarin invective, which managed to raise Kouryuu's eyebrows a millimeter or so but failed to accomplish anything else. He quipped something back at her, surprising Ranma with his apparent fluency. Shampoo just screamed at him incoherently.
"She showed up a moment ago and started harassing students, demanding to know where you were," Kouryuu explained. He looked unsure of how to set her down without risking injury to himself. He stepped towards Ranma hopefully. "Um... could you...?"
"No, don't-!" Too late, Kouryuu unwittingly brought Shampoo within glomping range and she immediately latched on to Ranma.
"Airen!" she cried, as Ranma collapsed to the dojo floor with her weight on top of him. Inverted as she was, and apparently freed from Kouryuu's hold, Shampoo's legs wrapped themselves nimbly around Ranma's head. At that moment he realized, with a sudden stab of fear and panic, that this was quite probably the absolute most compromising position he had ever found himself in, bar none.
"RANMAAAH!"
Right on cue, he thought, with growing dread.
Ranma could glimpse, just past Shampoo's shapely thighs, Akane running up with her bamboo sword in hand. She started pounding it against Shampoo's exposed back.
"Get off of him, you hussy!" Akane screamed.
Please don't, Ranma thought in panic. As awkward as it was to have Shampoo wrapped so snugly around him, as soon as she moved he would be wide open.
As Shampoo jumped to her feet, she managed to slam Ranma's head against the floorboards. An errant thought floated through his offended skull: This day has been fantastic. Ranma almost expected to die in the next few minutes from a lethal does of irony - if one of his fiancées didn't kill him first.
"Akane want fight?" Shampoo snarled.
Akane looked ready to respond in kind, but Kouryuu stepped swiftly between the two combatants. "I won't have you attacking students and residents of this dojo," he told Shampoo in no uncertain terms. Ranma watched from his vantage on the floor, wondering if Kouryuu knew what he was getting himself into.
Shampoo narrowed a hateful glare at him. "Fine," she snapped curtly. "Shampoo fight YOU. Stupid man is in need of killing anyway."
"Very well," Kouryuu sighed. His eyes hardened. "But I warn you, if you wish to fight me, I won't hold back. I am prepared to use my most fearsome technique."
Shampoo shifted uneasily but met his iron gaze and maintained a ready fighting posture. "What you talking?"
"A technique so terrible, so secret..." Kouryuu continued, "you will never see it coming."
Uh-oh, Ranma thought. Kouryuu's entire style was based on his ability to hide his attacks. Was he about to bring out some truly unreadable super-move?
Kouryuu raised a hand, palm forward - and then spun on his heel, ran to the dojo wall, leapt over it in a single bound, and was gone.
For a moment Shampoo stood, obviously as stunned as Ranma felt. Then rage twisted her features. "Stupid man come back here! You no run Shampoo!" She dashed off and up over the wall in pursuit of her vanished opponent.
That looked a lot like the Saotome secret technique, Ranma mused. In light of that, he could only assume that Kouryuu knew what he was doing.
"Well," he commented, getting to his feet. "Glad that's over."
A low growl sounded in his ear. "Ranmaaa...!"
Ranma yelped and jumped back. "A-Akane! It wasn't what... I can explain!" He waved his arms frantically. Akane just stalked towards him, gripping the handle of her bamboo sword as if she meant to crush it. Now seemed like a really good time to follow Kouryuu's example and run from the enraged female. Ranma started backing away, but realized that Akane was blocking the only exit.
Akane took a swing at him that probably would have shattered stone - he narrowly ducked it.
"Akane, will you please just-!"
One of the few lingering students chose this moment to step in the way. "Please, miss, if you'll just calm down and let Sensei expla-"
"Get out of my way!" Akane roared at him, bringing her weapon to bear on the hapless student.
Silent alarms went off in Ranma's head as he watched the bamboo shaft arc towards the young man's unprotected flank. Ranma's hand shot out and caught it just as it was about to impact on the student's ribs. With a twist and a yank he disarmed Akane, who stared at him astonished.
"Don't," he said, pointing the bamboo sword at her reprovingly. "Don't... attack my students."
Akane took a step back, her eyes wide.
He held her gaze for a moment longer, then turned to the narrowly rescued student. "You. You're a beginner here, right?"
The somewhat shaken student nodded dumbly.
"Remind me next time that you beginners need a lesson in basic defense against an armed opponent."
"Sa-Saturday, sir?" the student stammered.
Ranma blinked. "What?"
"Next beginners' class is Saturday. You... want me to remind you then, Sensei?"
Ranma paused. What was this about? Sounds like I need to have a chat with Nabiki, he thought.
"That'll be fine," he said in response to the student's question. "Thanks. You c'n go now."
The young man scurried out, followed by the last remaining students, all glancing back over their shoulders, variously confused, nervous, or even frightened. Ranma hoped Akane's outburst hadn't scared any of them off permanently.
Forcing his eyes to fix on the open doorway, Ranma marched past Akane, willfully exposing his back to her.
"Ranma..." His foot poised to step out of the dojo, Ranma suppressed a flinch, expecting a blow rather than this simple utterance. He stopped, cocking his head to show he was listening, but didn't turn around.
"How..." Akane began, controlled anger in her voice, "how do you expect me to believe... that you weren't doing ANYTHING wrong?"
Ranma thought about this for a while. Finally, he had to answer, "I don't." She'd never believed him before, he hardly expected her to start now. He just wished she would.
"Dummy," her voice came in a quiet whisper. He realized she had come forward and was standing right behind him now, close enough to touch.
WHAM!
Aw, crap, Ranma thought as he plummeted earthward and the pond seemingly rose up to meet him like the bull's-eye of a target. The water engulfed him with a cold splash, the change overcoming him swiftly, uncontrollable and involuntary like a full-body sneeze.
Well, Ranma thought as she clambered dripping up onto the grass. At least she waited to dunk me until all the students were gone.
A throat-clearing noise came from the open door to Nabiki's room. She looked up from the household accounts and some homework that she had spread out before her on her bed.
"Ah, Ranma. You're back. Have fun repairing the schoolyard with Ryouga-kun?" She smiled sweetly, but then frowned. "You're filthy. And you're dripping on the carpet - stay in the hall." Nabiki made shooing gestures with one hand.
Ranma, her face dour, made no move to enter, much to Nabiki's satisfaction.
"What's all this about having class without me?" she challenged Nabiki. "And why isn't the next beginner's class meeting until Saturday?"
"Funny you should ask," Nabiki replied evenly, toying with her pencil. "Those are almost the same question, really - or, at least, they have the same answer."
"And?" Ranma prompted impatiently.
"I'm getting to it." Nabiki paused a moment for effect, turning her attention back to the work in front of her. When she felt Ranma had stewed enough in her own impatience, Nabiki continued, but kept her eyes on her work, making a few marks here and there as she explained. "I've divided the novice and advanced classes up into sessions that meet every other day - so all of the experienced students have class Monday- Wednesday-Friday, and all of the beginners have class Tuesday-Thursday- Saturday." She grinned up at Ranma. "Sundays we're closed."
"Yeah, so? How the hell could you go and have class without ME?"
"Oh, yes, that's the other part of this new arrangement," Nabiki replied, as if she had just remembered. "We won't be needing you to do any teaching on Tuesdays, Thursdays, or Saturdays. Kouryuu will be taking on the beginner classes from now on."
"What?" Ranma fairly exploded. "But I'M the senior instructor!"
"In all fairness, Kouryuu IS older than you - by almost ten years," Nabiki responded readily. Ranma opened her mouth to retort, but Nabiki held up a hand, stalling her. "And... to be honest, I know I can trust you to give the advanced students the workout they're paying for, but can I trust you not to be too rough on the beginners? I think they could use a gentler hand to help lift them up the first few steps - at least until they get closer to your level." She raised her hand, palm up, to illustrate her point.
It was at best a half-truth, Nabiki knew. In reality, she wanted Kouryuu to train the less experienced students because she felt he would be infinitely more levelheaded and understanding with them. Training students who already had a fundamental grasp of martial arts, that was one thing, but Nabiki seriously doubted Ranma had the patience to teach novices from the ground up. So far her observations had confirmed this.
Ranma, however, didn't seem to swallow her explanation.
"'Gentler hand?'" she questioned contemptuously. "'Gentler hand?' Do you think it was a 'gentle hand' that got me where I am today?" By now Ranma had stalked right up to the edge of Nabiki's bed, dripping muddy water on the floor. "Are you forgetting what Pop's idea of 'training' looks like? Are you forgetting what it DOES to someone?" Ranma gestured down at her soaked, dirty clothes and female body. "Do you think a 'gentle hand' did THIS?"
"Ranma..." Nabiki said after a moment. "Kasumi JUST cleaned in here."
Ignoring Nabiki's complaints, Ranma forged on. "What makes you think YOU know even the first thing about teaching martial arts, Nabiki? My students don't need a 'gentle hand' - they need a sensei!"
Nabiki smiled inwardly. For the first time, it became crystal clear that Ranma was in this thing all the way. Ranma hadn't made any dramatic effort to duck out of teaching classes since the open house, and now had even come to challenge Nabiki about making unilateral decisions behind the scenes; Nabiki hadn't dared to hope for any better signs than that. But the words "my students," straight from Ranma's mouth, immediately banished any remaining doubts: Ranma had graduated from unwitting pawn to willing participant.
Nabiki slid to the edge of her bed and stood, meeting Ranma's gaze evenly. "All right, Ranma. We'll work on the teaching schedule some more. But there may be days when Kouryuu will be teaching, and you'll have to take a backseat and follow his lead if you want to be there. Can you do that?"
Fists clenched at her side, Ranma looked away, gritting her teeth. "Yes," she bit out reluctantly.
Nabiki gave an approving nod. "Good. If you want to remain senior instructor, I do expect your full cooperation in this, Ranma."
"No," Ranma shot back.
For once, Nabiki didn't know what to say.
"That's not how it's gonna work, Nabiki." Ranma's eyes were surprisingly hard. "I expect YOUR full cooperation. Next time you have some bright idea about who should teach what, or who should train when, you talk to ME first. Got it?"
Taken aback, Nabiki recovered her poise quickly. "You of all people should know," she returned with a note of warning in her voice, "that it's not wise to threaten me."
Ranma shook her head. "I'm not threatening, Nabiki. I'm not askin' either. I'm telling. You know you can't do this thing without me. You may think, hey, it's only been a few days - but the students know me now. Today, I saw that - I realized, I'M their sensei. They trust me; they respect me. Can't say the same for you."
Nabiki felt it would be imprudent to point out that the students likely respected and trusted Kouryuu more than they did Ranma.
"Okay then," Nabiki replied, deciding to humor her new... business partner. "I'll make sure to discuss these things with you in the future. But don't expect too many more changes."
"Fine with me," Ranma said. "I've got enough things changing on me already." She looked down at herself. "I guess I'd better go and-"
"PIG-TAILED GIRL! MY LOVE!"
"Yaaaaaaaaah!"
WHAM! The floor shook as Kunou's head slammed violently into it.
"Will you get a clue, Kunou!" Ranma barked at him.
"Kunou-chan, what are you even still doing here?" Nabiki asked wearily. "Training has been over for nearly an hour."
"I heard the angelic voice of my pig-tailed goddess calling to me in distress, but I knew not from whence or wherefore she shouted so." Apparently undeterred by the lump the size of a goose egg that was growing from the top of his head, or the fact that his kendo-gi was now damp all down the front from squeezing the very wet "pig-tailed girl," Kunou leapt to his feet. "What beleaguers thee, my love?"
Ranma opened her mouth, then shut it as her gaze fell on Nabiki. The rare glint of slyness that entered Ranma's eye made Nabiki feel suddenly uncomfortable.
With a theatrical flare, Ranma put a hand to her face. "Oh, Kunou my darling. I have learned of your secret engagement - to that woman!"
Nabiki felt her heart skip a beat as Ranma's finger jabbed in her direction.
"No!" Kunou looked to Nabiki, then back to Ranma. "Lies! It is not true, I tell you!"
"It is, it is! Your fathers' agreed, and now you are engaged to be married! I cannot come between you," Ranma said in feigned sadness. "Goodbye, my love!"
Ranma danced from the room, a look of badly suppressed glee on her face. Nabiki glared after her.
Kunou sat heavily on the floor. Nabiki watched him, wondering how he was going to react. She had expected him to chase after Ranma, or at least collapse in howls of anguish, but he seemed to be taking it remarkably well.
Nonetheless, his hands shook as he gazed at them in apparent horror, as if lamenting their powerlessness. "Oh, that fate, like a storm at sea, hath torn me from the twin atolls of my love and cast the ship of my heart upon YOUR rocky shoals!"
Nabiki crossed her arms and glared at him. "For your information, Kunou-chan, my shoals are NOT rocky." Not that HE would ever have the opportunity to find out. "Besides, it's not like I'm any happier about this whole situation than you are, kiddo."
Kunou favored her with a suffering look. "How can you possibly compare my heart's woe to your own petty frustration? You have no love that is taken from you by this gross shackling." He pointed an accusatory finger at her. "Your only love is the procurement of wealth! You have not been shorn from your intended!"
"Oh, I don't know," Nabiki replied. "That Piku guy was kind of cute." While it was technically true, she said it mostly to annoy Kunou - and succeeded, she saw, as his face reddened.
"Hasegawa, that cur!" Kunou bellowed indignantly. "You would do better to marry a pack-mule-! Ha!" Kunou seemed to catch himself, sobering. "I see you speak his name only to bait me. Well I shall not be thus abused, Tendou Nabiki. I well know you have no use for men beyond the means they might provide thee. And moreover, that Hasegawa, why he is no man at all."
Nabiki smirked, hiding her surprise at Kunou's show of level- headedness. "No, that would be Ranma."
"Indeed," Kunou agreed readily. "Saotome is no man, but a foul demon who makes but ill use of those around him without regard for sentiment." Kunou's eyes flicked in her direction. "Somewhat like a certain Tendou daughter whom we both know."
Nabiki snorted. As if KUNOU had any right to admonish HER. "Kunou-chan, you really need to get more in touch with reality."
"And you, Tendou Nabiki, need to get more in touch with humanity." And with that he rose and strode from the room, leaving Nabiki to puzzle over his final, cryptic utterance.
Ranma didn't dare hope for an instant that she was truly free of Kunou's harassment for good. All the same, she laughed to herself as she began rinsing the day's excessive dirt away. She was still chuckling when, quite unexpectedly, the door to the bath opened, and Preston stepped in wearing a towel around his waist.
For a moment, he just stared at Ranma, and she stared dumbly back at him. Then he backed out, and closed the door behind him. Ranma exhaled, relieved.
"So, are there four beautiful women living in this house, Ranma, or just three and a half?" Preston's voice came through the door, almost making Ranma jump.
"Uh... yeah..." Preston must have been nearby and seen Ranma get punted into the pond earlier. "I guess you've figured out my secret then..." She supposed that it had been bound to happen at some point. Not much of a secret if everyone just found out eventually, one way or another.
"So were you originally a guy or a girl?" Preston asked, still speaking through the door.
"I'm a guy," Ranma grumbled. Then something clicked in her mind. "Hey, how did you...? You... you KNOW about Jusenkyou?" A frightening thought struck Ranma. "You haven't actually BEEN there, have you?"
"Long time ago..." Preston replied simply. And then added after a pause, "So does this make you only half a man?"
"Hey! I'm still one-hundred percent man!"
"Says the busty redhead with the cute voice."
"Shut up! Wait, if you've been to Jusenkyou... what spring did YOU fall into?"
"Ma-niichuan."
Ranma blinked. "What's that? Spring of Drowned... Horse?"
"No, Spring of Drowned Yer Mom! Now hurry up with your bath, lady. I need to get my clean on!"
"Don't call me lady," Ranma griped, snatching the soap from the soap dish and wondering at the foreigner's bizarre verbal antics. She should have realized that if Preston had really been to Jusenkyou, they probably would have seen him change by now.
Preston's voice came again after awhile. "I have to say, Ranma, I'm curious..."
Ranma felt the hair at the back of her neck stand up at his words, fearful of where the strange foreigner's thoughts were taking him.
"Has being part female given you any insight into women, like how they think?" Preston finished.
Ranma was so relieved by the innocuous nature of the question that she let out an involuntary bark of laughter.
"Does that mean no?" Preston questioned.
Ranma shook her head, even though Preston couldn't see the gesture. "Some of the things girls do, I guess I can understand a little better, since I've had this body," Ranma replied. "But I'd say on the whole I get them less now than I ever did."
"Huh. Really? So did you interact with women a lot before you got cursed?"
Ranma considered. Attending an all-boys school and going on constant training trips hadn't presented a lot of female company, so... "Actually... No."
"Oh. Maybe that has something to do with why you understand women less now than before."
"Whaddya mean?"
"'The more I see, the less I understand.' That's the way it goes."
"Ya think so?" Ranma wondered where the quote was from or if Preston had just made it up. She finished rinsing off the soap and climbed into the tub.
"Do YOU understand women?" Ranma questioned, his voice returning to a more comfortable male timbre.
"Not really," Preston admitted readily as he slid the door aside and stepped back into the room. He gestured to the faucet and pantomimed scrubbing his hair. "Do you mind? No running water over at my place yet..."
Ranma waved a hand. "Go ahead; we're both guys now."
Preston sat and unhooked the mobile shower-sprayer from its cradle. "People in general don't make sense, Ranma. That's just something you've got to understand. Or accept, I guess - can't really understand it, what with it not making sense and all."
Easy for him to say, someone who, at least until now, never really seemed to make much sense himself.
"Speak for yourself," Ranma replied. "I make sense. Akane does NOT make sense. Guy, girl - see the difference?"
"Well," Preston said thoughtfully, soaping up his long hair, "RIGHT NOW you're a guy. But what about later?"
"I'm a GUY," Ranma reiterated.
"Sure, sure," Preston agreed, somewhat dismissively. "But why do you say Akane doesn't make sense? She's a girl all the time, right? THAT makes sense. Seems to me that spontaneous gender-switching makes a lot less sense than, well... not."
"Will you shut up about that?" Ranma protested. "She doesn't make sense BECAUSE she's a girl all the time! Even when she is acting like an angry, violent, macho tomboy."
"Really?" Preston said, sounding surprised. "Never seen her acting like that. Well, angry and violent, sure, but macho? Tomboy?" He shook his head. "Well, I've spent the past few years in America, so I guess most Japanese girls seem girly to me. Different cultural standards."
Ranma scratched his head, trying to wrap his mind around what this obviously cracked foreigner was saying. "How the hell can a girl be angry and violent WITHOUT being a macho tomboy?" The question sounded almost like a Zen koan, with something fundamentally fascinating about it's seeming unanswerability.
"I don't know," Preston confided, "but it is DAMN cute, isn't it? Like your friend Ukyou-san, for example."
"Okay, so now you're claiming a girl can be angry and violent but NOT a macho tomboy, AND... that it somehow makes her CUTE?" Ranma asked, bewildered. Then he did a double-take. "Whoa, wait, did you just say UCCHAN is like that? And did you just call her Ukyou-SAN?" Ranma's head was practically spinning.
"Yeah. She's angry a lot, and she gets violent - normally I can't stand that kind of person, but somehow it just makes her even cuter. Sounds crazy, doesn't it?"
Yes, it did sound a bit crazy. But crazy was hardly anything new to Ranma, and certainly nothing new from Preston. However...
"Hold on a minute," Ranma said. "Back up. You like Ucchan?"
"Duh!" Preston answered as he rinsed out his hair. "Who wouldn't? Hey, did you know she's in love with you?"
Ranma waved this unimportant detail aside. "Yeah, yeah, I know that. So you're saying, like, you really LIKE her?"
"She's great!" Preston's eyes seemed to glow. "So lovely, but so confused. She's like... like a beautiful tangle of Christmas lights just waiting to be unraveled." His fingers twitched in front of him, as if he were anticipating doing just that.
"Uh, yeah, the hand thing?" Ranma pointed. "Creepin' me out."
"Sorry." Preston placed his palms on his knees.
"So let me get this straight," Ranma began. "YOU like Ucchan. You know Ucchan likes ME."
"Uh-huh."
"So... why aren't you trying to kill me?"
Preston shrugged. "Should I be?"
"Well..." Ranma thought for a moment. "It's what I'm used to."
"The way I see it, Ranma, it's hardly your fault that Ukyou-san likes you. She's obviously deluding herself," Preston explained. "I mean, hey, you seem like a pretty cool guy; I've got nothing against you personally. In fact, I wish you a very happy life with Akane."
"Hey!" Ranma protested. "Who says I WANT a happy life with that dumb tomboy?"
"What, so you want an unhappy life with her?"
"No! Argh, that's not what I mean!"
"Okay. What DO you mean then?"
Ranma paused. He opened his mouth - shut it. He looked away, suddenly finding something very compelling about staring at the mortar between the tiles on the wall.
"I can't understand her at all," he grumbled after a moment of silence. "She's always hittin' me and stuff for no good reason."
"Sounds like a match made in heaven," Preston commented.
Ranma caught the irony in Preston's voice, and smirked.
"Yeah. Or a match made in HELL maybe."
Preston seemed to ponder this. "Wouldn't a match made in hell still be legally binding? Or at least cosmically binding?"
Ranma snorted. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if she didn't get angry and fly off the handle all the time - I mean, jeez! And maybe if she BELIEVED me every once in a while! Or if she actually even bothered to stop and LISTEN in the first place, then maybe, maybe...!"
"Yeah?" Preston prompted as he soaped up his arms. "Then maybe... what?"
Ranma sank back in the tub. "Nothin'"
Preston was silent for a moment, concentrating on washing himself, but he did finally speak up again. "Hey, you can talk to me all you want, but have you ever tried talking to AKANE about this stuff?"
"Naw," Ranma replied sullenly. "She wouldn't listen anyhow. She never does."
"Well," Preston shrugged. "Just a thought."
Unfortunately, it was entirely too sensible a suggestion to actually work - at least not with Akane, since, as near as Ranma could tell, Akane and sensible seemed to mix about as well as water and oil. Or vinegar and baking soda.
And yet... Ranma supposed it couldn't really hurt to try. At least, not much more than usual.
Kouryuu knew that many people would be surprised to learn that, despite his dedication to the martial arts, he didn't really like fighting. Certainly, even the most intense contest of martial arts prowess could be enjoyable, as long as it didn't involve the negative emotions and intent to harm that Kouryuu associated with a "real" fight. He had never fit in with the other novices at the monastery, being Japanese by heritage, and it seemed like he had been in a fight every day of his young life. He was tired of that kind of desperate, angry grappling. All that Kouryuu cared to engage in now was martial arts for its own sake - and, when the occasion warranted, for the protection of others of course.
Which was one reason why he was now slipping quietly along the backstreets of Nerima, far from the Tendou Dojo and, he hoped, now also far from the girl who had called herself Xian Pu. As for the other reason, he had recognized her accent, and he had grown up near enough to Jouketsuzoku to know the dire consequences of winning against a Chinese Amazon. But he wasn't about to let himself LOSE to one, not in a real fight. If there was anything he hated more than a fight, it was the humliation of losing one.
Besides, one small girl could hardly present a decent challenge, even if she was from Jouketsuzoku. Maybe if there had been ten Amazons, Kouryuu mused, then his style would really have had a chance to shine. He had developed it to defend against multiple opponents ganging up on him after all.
"Excuse me..." a voice floated down to him from above. Kouryuu looked up. A long-haired young man wearing thick coke-bottle glasses and traditional male Jouketsuzoku garb was crouching on the gutter of a rooftop just above Kouryuu's head.
"Did you happen to see a beautiful purple-haired Chinese girl pass by this way?" the stranger asked politely.
"Yes, as a matter of fact I did," Kouryuu replied. "I believe she went that way." He pointed.
"Thanks." The Chinese stranger bounded off over the rooftops in the direction Kouryuu had indicated.
"Be careful!" Kouryuu called after. "She was very angry when I saw her!"
The young stranger waved back in thanks for the warning as he disappeared over the peak of a high roof. Kouryuu hoped he knew what he was doing.
Returning his attention to his own predicament, Kouryuu assessed the situation. Free of pursuit by any homicidal Chinese Amazons, at least for the time being, he had only one problem left. He wasn't sure exactly where he was.
Kouryuu stepped out of the alley he had been working his way down and onto a shop-lined thoroughfare, trying to get his bearings. A passing youth met his gaze.
"Excuse me," he hailed the young man. "You wouldn't happen to know where the Tendou Dojo is from here, would you?"
The young man looked stunned for a moment, his mouth hanging open. "I... I was just about to ask YOU that!"
"Oh?" Kouryuu blinked in surprise. He took in the young man's ragged appearance, his backpack, and umbrella. Obviously he had been traveling for quite some time, and Kouryuu certainly didn't recognize him as a currently enrolled student. Could the Tendou Dojo already be attracting newcomers from so far afield?
"Why are YOU trying to get there?" the stranger was asking him.
"I teach there," Kouryuu explained simply.
"Teach there?" the young man repeated, puzzled. "Teach what?"
After a pause, Kouryuu replied slowly, "Martial arts..." wondering why this should be unobvious.
The young man smiled sheepishly. "Oh. Right. Heh. Um... I'm Ryouga by the way. Hibiki Ryouga."
"Pleased to meet you, Hibiki-san." Kouryuu bowed in greeting. "Kouryuu, at your service. So you say you're trying to find your way to the Tendou Dojo?"
"Mm," Ryouga nodded.
"Well, maybe we can find it if we work together. I'm fairly certain it's somewhere in that direction." He gestured.
"Really? And here I was heading that way," Ryouga said, pointing in the opposite direction - which was not, Kouryuu noted, even vaguely the direction the obviously confused young man had been headed in.
"I see... well, let's try this way first, and if we don't find the dojo, we can look in that direction."
Ryouga nodded agreement, and stepped out determinedly.
"Ah... Hibiki-san..." Kouryuu stalled him. "It's... this way."
Ryouga blinked. "Oh."
Nabiki was in a foul mood. Not only had Kunou's strange parting words been nagging her with an irritation she couldn't explain, but now her own big sister had found a way to inflict new frustration on her.
"Sis... did you HAVE to invite Preston to stay for dinner?"
"Well I couldn't just leave him to sit all alone in that big, empty house nextdoor," Kasumi replied matter-of-factly.
"Why not?" Nabiki asked angrily. "I'm sure he's perfectly capable of eating dinner by himself."
"Don't be ridiculous, Nabiki-chan," Kasumi chided as she put some finishing touches on the evening's repast. "Who would cook for him?"
Nabiki rolled her eyes. "Okay, well then why did you tell him to sit next to ME?"
"It only seemed reasonable," Kasumi said. "You're English IS best in the family after all."
Nabiki's hand went up to massage the bridge of her nose. Were people around her willfully trying to make her life more difficult, or did some deity just really hate her?
"In case you hadn't noticed, Sis, Preston SPEAKS JAPANESE."
"Well, yes," Kasumi replied, as if that went without saying. "But I wanted to make him feel as comfortable as possible."
What about MY comfort? Nabiki raged silently.
"Besides," Kasumi was saying, "it will be a good chance for you to chat with Preston-kun. He's such a nice young man."
"No he isn't!" Nabiki objected. "He's a twit!"
"Really, Nabiki-chan," Kasumi scolded her, turning away from her cooking. "Don't be rude. He's our guest."
"That doesn't seem to stop him from being a twit," Nabiki shot back.
Kasumi seemed to consider this for a moment. "No," she finally replied. "I suppose not. But he's still a very nice young man."
Nabiki sighed. As if THAT made any sense. "Sis, have you ever even met someone you didn't think was nice?"
"I don't think so, Nabiki-chan," Kasumi replied readily, turning back to the makings of their meal. "But I'm fairly certain I've seen some on television before. They had AWFUL haircuts."
Nabiki leaned back against the kitchen doorjamb with a growing sense of defeat. "Sometimes, I can't decide who's more unbelievable," she commented. "The weirdoes who practice bizarre martial art forms and have crazy shape-changing curses - or the one who doesn't seem to find anything strange about it."
"Even cursed martial artists are perfectly decent people once you get to know them. No one is perfect, you know," Kasumi said in a maternal tone that was just a hair shy of condescending. She started placing dishes on a large serving platter. "Take our family for instance. We're far from ordinary. Father is prone to unusually extreme emotional outbursts, but he's still a fine man and a good father. Akane is hardly any better at controlling her emotions; she's incurably stubborn and horribly violent, but she's really a very sweet girl at heart. And then there's you, Nabiki-chan-"
"Okay, Sis, I get the point," Nabiki interrupted, somewhat loudly. She turned and retreated hastily into the dining area, not at all eager to hear what her sister had to say about her after the brutally honest assessment of the rest of the family.
Nabiki took her seat next to Preston, but refused to look at him or even acknowledge his presence. She had to sit next to him in class everyday, for crying out loud - why did Kasumi have to subject her to him NOW too?
Looking around for something else to focus her attention on, Nabiki was mildly surprised to discover Ranma's mother smiling at her from the other side of the table.
"Auntie Saotome," Nabiki greeted her. "When did you get here?"
"Only just a few minutes ago," she answered. "Kasumi called me earlier. She said she was making extra tonight and didn't want anything to go to waste." Nodoka's smile widened as she turned her gaze to her son sitting across the table from her. "Not that I think there's much risk of that, what with Ranma and that bottomless pit of a husband of mine."
Ranma grinned sheepishly, and Uncle Saotome, seated further down the table, just looked nervous - which wasn't really a change, since he had already been eyeing the tightly wrapped bundle laying at his wife's side with a slightly disturbed look in on his face.
But at that moment everyone's attention was diverted as Kasumi entered with a large tray laden with steaming bowls of rice.
"Do you need any help?" Preston offered as he watched her carry in the sizeable tray.
"Don't be silly," Kasumi said almost laughingly as she set a bowl in front of him. "Men don't serve the food."
Preston raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing.
As Kasumi placed the last bowl on the table, heads came up at the sound of the front door opening, and someone timidly announcing themselves.
"Maybe that's Kouryuu-san," Kasumi said, straightening up and heading out to meet the new arrival. "We won't have to start without him after all."
Nabiki doubted it was Kouryuu at all, unless his voice had gone up an octave or two since she'd last spoken to him - which she couldn't really rule out as entirely impossible. It happened to Ranma all the time, after all.
The truth proved much simpler, as a moment later Kasumi led in Akane's friend Emi. No, make that Akane and Ranma's homeroom teacher, Sakai-sensei. She was dressed in sensible business attire - that looked almost as good on her as it would have on Nabiki herself, Nabiki judged - so she was obviously here in an official capacity.
"Oh!" she said in embarrassed surprise as she stepped into the room and saw everyone sitting around the table ready for dinner. "I'm so sorry, it looks like I've come at a bad time."
"Oh, no, not at all," Kasumi assured her. "Please, join us."
"Yes, please stay, Emi," Akane put in.
"No, I couldn't possibly."
"I insist, you absolutely must stay." Kasumi smiled at Emi winningly.
Nabiki could practically see the young woman's reluctance melt away. Hostess Kasumi strikes again, Nabiki thought.
"Well, if you REALLY insist," Emi said.
"I do, I do. Akane, please get out the folding table so that we have enough room for everyone."
Akane hopped up eagerly and retrieved the low folding table from where it leaned against the wall.
"I... I actually just dropped by to talk to Ranma's parents... about his grades."
Ranma, who had been slouching against the table and eyeing Emi warily and without favor, sat bolt upright and lost most of the color in his face.
"That would be me, then," Nodoka said, getting to her feet and bowing. "Saotome Nodoka. I'm pleased to meet you, Sakai-sensei." She waved a hand down the table at her husband. "You don't want to talk to him about anything serious, he won't listen.
"You really do have excellent timing, you know, since I'm not here all that often; I live elsewhere," Nodoka continued as she sat again and patted the cushion next to her. "Why don't you sit here next to me and we can talk ALL about Ranma's schoolwork." The fierce smile in her eyes, as she looked across the table at her son, was almost frightening.
Akane finished setting up the folding table flush with the main table, and sat down on Emi's other side.
The sound of the front door opening again echoed from the hallway, this time accompanied by the sound of two voices conversing, both distinctly male.
"Now, who could THAT be?" Kasumi wondered aloud, though quite cheerfully - how else?
A moment later, Kouryuu stepped into the room followed by Ryouga.
"I've returned," Kouryuu announced.
"Welcome back," several voices greeted him in a what sounded like a badly timed round.
"I'm sorry I'm late; I got a little lost," he explained as he stepped further into the room to allow Ryouga in - although Ryouga seemed to be more content hiding behind Kouryuu's tall frame.
"But it all worked out quite well," Kouryuu continued, "since I happened upon Hibiki-san here, who said he knew you and was looking for the dojo as well, and we helped each other find our way back."
"S-sorry to intrude," Ryouga stammered, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. He sent a glare at Ranma, but Ranma didn't notice since he was clearly too busy sweating as Emi discussed his severe academic shortcomings with his concerned mother.
"Oh, Sakai-san, good evening," Kouryuu said as he noticed her. "And... I don't believe we've met...?" He bowed to Nodoka.
Introductions were made and greetings were exchanged all around, and everyone got down to eating.
Finally, Nabiki thought. She had started to worry that the interruptions would never cease. She wanted nothing more than to finish with this meal and leave Preston to his own devices - which could be as foolish or impudent as he wanted them to be, since as long as they didn't involve her she hardly cared. Admittedly, he had been remarkably subdued so far, and hadn't done anything obnoxious YET, but Nabiki figured it was only a matter of time.
Some people tried to chat amiably, but the multiple interpersonal tensions and anxieties around the table kept the mood a bit strained and awkward at best.
"This has turned into quite the dinner-party, hasn't it?" Father commented with a slightly forced smile as he ate.
"Party?" Preston broke in, speaking for the first time since Kasumi had started serving them. "What's a party without music?" And with that he got up and left.
"What a funny young man," Kasumi remarked after he'd gone.
"Don't you mean a twit?" Nabiki corrected.
"Nabiki-chan, stop saying that."
"Do you think he's coming back for the rest of this?" Ranma asked, eyeing Preston's nearly untouched meal.
His mother looked ready to slap his hand if he made a move for the food. "Well, he didn't say he was finished yet, so don't you touch it."
For her own part, Nabiki hoped the frustrating foreigner didn't come back. But a few short minutes later, Preston reappeared - with a guitar dangling from his grip.
Without so much as a word, he pulled his cushion away from the table to give himself some room, sat, and, his eyes intent on the guitar strings, started playing.
And played quite well, much to Nabiki's surprise - and to the surprise of just about everyone else, Nabiki saw by the expressions on their faces. Across the table, Auntie Saotome smiled and swayed very slightly in appreciation, and Father got the distant, serious look he always got when he was enjoying something.
Scattered applause greeted the end of his impromptu performance - Nabiki tried to make her claps as small and contemptuous as possible, to hide the fact that she was genuinely impressed. Preston just grinned, looking slightly embarrassed, which Nabiki thought a novelty.
Preston held up the guitar. "Anyone else wanna take a turn? My finger's'll just get tired if I keep it up too long."
Father cleared his throat. All heads turned to him.
"Well," he said. "It's been a long time, but... I suppose I might give it a try.
"I didn't know you could play the guitar, Dad," Akane said in astonishment as Preston walked over and handed it to him.
She doesn't remember, Nabiki realized. Father hadn't picked up a guitar since their mother had died well over ten years ago.
Nevertheless, his fingers seemed to curl around the instrument as though they belonged there. He plucked a string experimentally.
Nabiki almost held her breath, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. Was he really ready to try THIS again, after so long? Could he step back into the shoes of the younger, more stable man he had once been, back when he had trained students at the Tendou Dojo?
Father played a brief scale.
"It HAS been a long time," he muttered, mostly to himself.
But, after a few false starts, he launched into a slow, rhythmic piece that instantly sent Nabiki reeling back in time. With an unexpected sting of nostalgia, the image of her father, playing the very same tune at her childhood bedside, flashed before her mind's eye. Nabiki remembered how she would always remain awake to hear the end of the song while her sisters both drifted off to sleep before her. It was a memory she hadn't thought about in years, and it unsettled her to have it so suddenly and forcefully recalled to her mind. Nabiki rarely thought about her childhood anymore. Looking back on the happy innocence of that time always made her feel oddly... weak.
Nabiki took a deep breath, trying not to make it sound like a sob or a sigh. Maybe her father's rediscovery of the guitar was more trouble than it was worth.
"That was so pretty," Akane said when their father had finished, looking like her eyes were about to tear up. Nabiki desperately hoped hers weren't.
"Yeah, I liked that," Preston said approvingly from beside Nabiki. "Can you play something fast?"
"Hmm..." Father frowned down at the guitar strings. He played a little bit of something more rapid. "You mean like that?"
"Yeah, just like that. That was good," Preston responded with rising enthusiasm. "Sounds kind of... Spanish, or something."
"I don't remember you ever playing anything like that, Father," Kasumi commented.
Father grinned at her over the finger-board. "I used to serenade your mother with tunes like that one, when we were young. She thought it was terribly exotic."
"Go ahead and play some more of that," Preston urged. "That's the kind of music a party needs."
Father shrugged a little, as if to say, "Very well," and started playing again. Preston bolted down his food faster than Nabiki's eye could follow, and then suddenly grabbed her hand, making her jump.
"C'mon," he said, pulling her to her feet. "What's a party without dancing?"
Nabiki tried to resist, but even she wasn't immune to the festival mood that seemed to be infecting everyone in the room - except Preston, who, as near as Nabiki could tell, was always in the festival mood.
Still, she tried to keep her cool as Preston danced her about like he'd had too much to drink (but without the usual lack of coordination).
"Preston... what are you doing?" she asked in a voice pitched so only he could hear her. She tried to give him a wary look, but she was having trouble not laughing at his antics, especially since everyone else in the room had already given into the impulse.
"Dancing, what does it look like?" he replied.
But, even without taking a good look around the room, Nabiki could tell that Preston had, almost single-handedly, changed the atmosphere and tone of the gathering completely in just a few minutes. Whereas most people at the table had been eyeing or ignoring each other with various levels of irritation or anxiety, now everyone was clearly enjoying themselves, laughing and tapping their toes to the music. It was, to say the least, impressive, even to Nabiki who considered herself well versed in directing the ebb and flow of human reaction and emotion.
The song Father had been playing ended, and Preston grinned and bowed to her as more laughter and clapping rang out. Nabiki just lifted an eyebrow at Preston and let slip half a smile - for show, of course.
"Now that's good music for dancing," Preston remarked loudly to the table.
"You're up to something," Nabiki said to him in an undervoice as he accepted the guitar back from Father, who handed it across the table to him.
Preston just grinned at her again. "We used to party like this back in America."
"I thought you said you weren't from America."
"I'm not. We used to party like this in New Zealand, too."
"So you're from New Zealand then?"
His grin broadened. "Nope."
"Canada? England? Ireland?" Nabiki wracked her brain. "The Bahamas? Guam?"
Preston winked at her as he slung the guitar strap around his neck. "Hong Kong."
Nabiki just rolled her eyes.
"So... Kouryuu-san," Emi said. "You don't dance?"
Besides him, everyone had gotten up at least once to make fools of themselves as Akane's father and Preston took turns playing, although Ranma's father, Genma, had disappeared somewhere fairly early on. Akane had persuaded Emi to dance already - which for some reason had seemed to annoy Ranma, much to Emi's mystified satisfaction. Even Ranma himself had reluctantly gotten up to take an unenthusiastic turn around the room at the urging of his mother.
Kouryuu looked away. "I, ah, never learned," he replied, a bit sheepishly.
Considering the grace and agility he had shown in their brief sparring match a few days before, not to mention everything she had seen of him since, Emi guessed that he would have no trouble improvising.
"I grew up in a monastery," he explained. "Monks don't engage in that sort of thing. Too... improprietous."
"A monastery?" Emi repeated. "That's unusual."
"Yes, well, if they hadn't taken me in, I probably would have died of exposure in the mountains - or possibly been eaten by tigers."
"Tigers?" Emi blurted, and then felt like a parrot, repeating his own words back to him yet again. "In Japan?"
"Oh, no," he smiled. "I grew up in the Qinghai province of China, near a place called Jusenkyou. Have you heard of it?"
Emi shook her head dumbly.
"Not surprising. It's a long way from civilization." Kouryuu sipped his tea and went back to watching the festivities, still seeming somehow apart from them despite being in their midst.
Emi had hardly thought that the tall reserved man could become any more of an enigma, but learning about his origins had only seemed to deepen the mystery. And yet, there was still something that seemed so obvious, so apparent about him. He was always very THERE - solid. When he looked at something, you knew he was seeing it, and when he listened to you, you knew he was hearing you. He seemed oddly caught somewhere between being a pinnacle of authenticity, and giving the lie to his smiles with taciturn silence.
Turning her attention back to the gathering, Emi noted that Akane and Ranma were still sending each other strange furtive glances from across the room, as if they were both trying to watch each other without letting on that they were watching.
"What's with them?" Emi leaned over and asked Kouryuu in an undervoice, seeing that his eyes were also following the odd interplay.
"My guess is that they each feel compelled to ask the other to dance, but they're too embarrassed or too shy."
"Why would they be embarrassed?" Emi wondered aloud. They had danced with other people already, after all.
Kouryuu shrugged slightly. "Young people get like that, I suppose. If they dance together, that sends a message, and I don't get the impression that either of them are entirely comfortable with their feelings."
What message? Emi wondered. What feelings?
Then a sudden coldness hit the pit of her stomach.
"Kouryuu-san... will you excuse me for a moment?" she said somewhat stiffly. "I've... just realized something."
Kouryuu raised his eyebrows. "Certainly."
She tried to give him an apologetic look as she rose. Walking over to Akane who was sitting by her father as he strummed away at the guitar, Emi touched her young friend's shoulder.
"Can we talk?" she said as Akane looked up. "Now?"
"Sure," Akane answered, looking a bit bewildered.
Emi took her by the wrist and pulled her gently but firmly out onto the deck, where they were easily out of earshot of the rest of the party, all talking and laughing and playing music quite loud enough to prevent anyone from eavesdropping.
Emi took a breath, organizing her thoughts, and decided to cut straight to the heart of the matter.
"Why didn't you tell me that Ranma was your fiancé?"
Akane's eyes went wide, confirming Emi's words. "How did you... how did you know?"
Emi waved this away. "That's not important - I figured it out. Akane, how could you... RANMA is your fiancé!"
"I'm sorry." Akane fidgeted, looking downcast. "I thought... I mean, I knew you hated him, I thought if you knew..."
"Akane, this doesn't affect our friendship," Emi assured her. "I'm a bit angry that you kept this from me, but, Akane... it's RANMA. I mean, you don't even LIKE him."
Akane looked out into the yard in a way that worried Emi more than she wanted to admit.
"You said he was a jerk and a pervert!"
Akane looked down at the floor.
"Well?" Emi prompted her.
Akane said nothing.
Emi threw her hands up in exasperation. "What about all that stuff you said he did?" The charges of verbal abuse and infidelity that Akane had leveled at her fiancé seemed five times worse now that Emi had a name and a face to go with them - especially since it was one she already had such a low opinion of. She knew she was letting her personal distaste for Ranma as an obnoxious, self-righteous male get the better of her, but she trusted her own judgment even in that.
"What about that other girl, Ukyou?" Emi went on when Akane didn't respond, remembering the incident with Akane's strange transvestite classmate. "Didn't she claim she was Ranma's fiancée?"
"That's what SHE says," Akane said, looking away off at nothing again.
Some of the accusations against Ranma started to make more sense - stringing along other girls indeed. "Well, has Ranma done anything to... dissuade Ukyou of that notion?"
As the moon came out from behind a cloud, illuminating the dim porch, Emi saw that Akane's jaw was set, and tears were standing out in her eyes.
"Yes," she whispered in response to Emi's question, her voice barely audible over the noise from inside. Some of the tension seemed to drain away with that utterance; her voice gained a little more volume and confidence. "I... I think he has."
"You think?" Emi questioned.
"What do you expect me to do?" Akane suddenly snapped in obvious frustration. "Ask him?"
"Yes!" Emi shot back. "No, actually, don't ask him - TELL him."
"What?"
"Tell him, 'Ditch the other woman, or we're through.' Just like that." Emi thought it might be better if Akane just skipped to the "we're through" part. But it wasn't up to her.
"It's not that simple," Akane was saying. "Besides, he wouldn't do it. I think... he doesn't want to hurt Ukyou's feelings."
"Ranma doesn't strike me as that considerate," Emi returned blandly.
"You don't understand," Akane said, shaking her head. "They were best friends when they were little... I think maybe Ukyou was in love with him even back then." Akane smiled in a mix of bitterness and fond remembrance. "One time Ukyou made some okonomiyaki sauce that turned out absolutely awful. But Ranma told her it tasted good just because he didn't want to hurt her feelings." Her gaze went sad and distant. "He's never done anything like that for me. He won't touch my cooking."
"Maybe he respects you enough to tell you the truth. At least about some things."
Akane's expression looked somewhere between hopeful and fearful of this possibility. "But... then why doesn't he take me seriously as a martial artist?"
"I'm not saying he respects you as much as he should," Emi said, "or near as much as you deserve. But if he's willing to be honest with you, that's a good sign."
It should have been cold comfort to Akane, but by the look in her eyes, she seemed to grab a hold of the notion like a starving woman clutching at a crust of bread. That was what those looks between her and Ranma had been, Emi realized - two people, each starving for the attention and respect of the other, both barred by pride or circumstances from crossing the room to feed that hunger.
But what was holding them back? The presence of their families? That made a certain amount of twisted sense. Emi knew that if her family tried to set her up with some man, the last thing she would want to do would be to give them the satisfaction of showing she actually liked him.
"Honesty is important for a couple," Emi said, feeling a bit trite but wanting to encourage Akane in the right direction - although a less reasonable part of her was screaming at her to just march back inside and beat the tar out of Ranma.
"We're not a couple," Akane fairly growled, but seemed to lack conviction, as if saying it were just a conditioned reaction.
A new thought occured to Emi. "Have you even... told Ranma you like him?" Was this a secret tryst so secret that even its participants remained blind to it?
"What if I don't like him?" Akane retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Akane..." Emi said gently.
Akane's voice became very small. "What if he doesn't like me?"
Emi wished with all her heart that she could lie and tell Akane that Ranma clearly wasn't interested in her.
"I don't know how he feels," she said instead. "But neither will you until you ask him."
"It's not that simple," Akane said for the second time. "Besides, who says I want to know, anyway?"
"Want to know what?"
Emi spun at the sound, startled. Ranma had come up on them unawares.
"Pervert!" Akane yelled at him. "What do you think you're doing, sneaking up on us in the dark like that?"
"Who's sneaking?" Ranma snapped back indignantly. "You two are the ones who snuck off over here and started whisperin' about who knows what. What's the big secret?" He looked warily between them.
"The secret is you're an idiot, Ranma!"
"That's no secret," Emi put in before Ranma could respond. "It's common knowledge. I have records on file that prove it."
Akane burst into laughter.
"Listen, 'sensei,'" Ranma began, but suddenly stopped, his attention drawn by something out in the yard, his eyes suddenly alert.
"Hold on a sec." He disappeared into the darkness.
Akane drew closer to Emi, her voice gone abruptly fearful. "What do you think he saw?"
Emi shook her head, frowning out into the night. She couldn't make out anything.
"Do you think... could it be a burglar?" Akane whispered.
There was a sudden yelp from the darkness; Emi felt Akane jump beside her.
A moment passed in silence. Then Ranma's voice called out to them, "It's all right." He came trotting up carrying someone by the collar of their shirt. "No worries," he said, grinning. "It's only Gosunkugi." Emi recognized the scrawny nervous youth as one of Akane and Ranma's classmates.
"Who's this?" Kasumi's voice sounded from behind Emi, who turned to discover the eldest Tendou sister had come out onto the porch. "A friend of yours, Ranma?"
"Nah," he said, giving the boy a little shake, like he was a fish that was too small and should be thrown back. "Just Gosunkugi."
"Well, do bring him in for some dessert," Kasumi said, turning and going back inside.
Ranma shrugged and carried Gosunkugi up onto the porch.
"What are you DOING here?" Akane demanded of the sickly-looking young man, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously.
"She... she spoke to me..." Gosunkugi put a hand to his face, looking overwhelmed, as Ranma marched him past and into the house, making sure his shoes didn't touch the floor.
Emi noted the camera hanging from around his neck and put two and two together. Creepy if otherwise harmless stalker, she surmised. It seemed there were a few other intricacies in Akane's obviously complex romantic situation that she had failed to mention. She certainly had more admirers than Emi had ever had - or ever wanted. Emi had to wonder why Akane had trouble believing in her own ability to attract and keep male attention. Not that Emi could count any one of Akane's current prospects as even remotely worthy of her, even in the most generous of assessments. Emi supposed that that arose from the fact that all of them were teenage boys.
But right now, Emi was wondering if it had been entirely wise to take on Ranma and Akane as students. She was having enough trouble just navigating their personal lives.
End Part III
Part IV can be heard on BBC radio with narration by Sir Ian Holm and all characters performed by the Cookie Monster.
