Fighting Chance
By M. Zephyr
Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is a trademark of Rumiko Takahashi and VIZ Communications, and its characters have been borrowed without permission. This story was written for non-commercial purposes only.
Cologne and Shampoo trick Ranma into following Akane to China, but Akane is fast on the trail. When the Amazons choose to fight for Ranma, will Akane be able to defeat overwhelming odds to save him? Will Akane or Shampoo be the one to win her happy ending?
Chapter 10. Tournament - Afternoon
It had started out as mere curiosity, wondering if Meifen might know where Mousse was to be found and what he had been up to. But when the first match of the fourth round was called, between Akane and another girl, Shampoo still had not located Meifen. Unless she was purposefully avoiding Shampoo, then the girl clearly wasn't anywhere on the fairground at all. Except that made no sense. This tournament was of considerable importance to everyone in the village - why would she be missing it?
The fact that Mousse was nowhere to be found still puzzled her considerably. He should be avidly watching every match in which Shampoo fought. Perhaps she should have asked someone else about him, such as her great-grandmother, instead of wasting time looking for Meifen. Of course, there was no time to do so now. Giving her attention to the matches was far more critical than where Mousse or Meifen might have wandered off.
At that moment Mousse was just wrapping up a story he was telling Meifen. "... Unfortunately, the three of them discovered that I was withholding the special noodle, and stole it from me. Ranma was the one who finally defeated the others and swallowed it. Naturally." The boy managed a small grin. "Then it turned out that all it did was to give him the digestion of a hundred men. Which no doubt helped him with the heaps of those awful tasting noodles he had already eaten, although he looked decidedly unhappy when Shampoo plopped down another heaping bowlful in front of him."
Meifen smiled over the story as she watched a cloud pass over the sun, trying to think of a story of her own worthy to set against his. They had been exchanging small tales of their experiences outside the village, and it seemed to have achieved her aim of taking her companion's mind off his troubles for a while. The young woman rested her chin on her fist and thought. Perhaps the party leader who had insulted her grandmother that time? Or maybe the time she had accidentally stumbled across the swimming hole full of young men, who were all singularly lacking in clothing? She had been young enough and inexperienced enough at the time to be even more embarrassed than they, despite the fact that she was the one fully dressed.
Then she took another, closer look at the sun's position. "Oh hell! Lunch must be over!" She scrambled up to the peak of the roof, and got her binoculars in place. Mousse followed more slowly and settled himself beside her. They both quickly identified the fighters on the log as Akane and Talcum.
Meifen sighed. "She really is pretty good. Akane, I mean. That's kind of depressing, her being an outsider and all."
Mousse replied glumly, "Shampoo is better."
Meifen snorted. "Nobody mentioned Shampoo. You are obsessed. You don't have to bring her up in every conversation."
Mousse only shrugged, a gesture lost on the girl whose eyes were glued to her binoculars.
Shampoo, only a few meters from the log, had a much better view than the pair on the roof, and she observed the combat with a preoccupied air. Her critical eye forced her to acknowledge that Akane Tendo was almost certain to win, although her opponent was making her work for it. She remembered her promise to herself and to Cologne not to underestimate the Japanese girl, to take her seriously as an opponent. She watched Akane's moves carefully, studying her, seeing obvious marks of Lotion's training. However, she felt an ugly, venomous jealousy claw at her upon spotting hints of her airen's style as well.
At that point Akane ducked under a blow and kicked from her low position, sending the other girl sailing backward to bounce off of the log and fall to the ground. The victor, breathing heavily, gave a nod of satisfaction and jumped off the log herself.
So the kitchen destroyer ... no, she had promised to stop reducing her rival to insults. So then, Akane had advanced another round. It was looking more and more as if Fate was going to arrange for the two of them to meet on the challenge log. In a way this felt right. They had been fighting for the last two years over who would marry Ranma, mostly metaphorically but sometimes physically. It was time for one final fight to decide it all. A fight to be witnessed by her airen and all of her people.
Four matches later it was Shampoo's turn on the log, and Akane's turn to watch critically from below, studying Shampoo as she fought. Like Shampoo, Akane also felt that the two of them were destined to face each other this day, to fight some final climactic battle over Ranma.
As she observed Shampoo fighting, chills ran up and down Akane's spine. Her long-time rival was like some deadly machine, her defense impenetrable, her own blows devastating. At the culmination of the match, Shampoo's opponent went flying to land a good twenty meters away, where she lay unmoving until a couple of women picked her up and carried her off.
The next break had arrived. Only three rounds to go. Eight contestants left. Seven of the best this generation of the Joketsuzoku had to offer, plus herself. Akane paced back and forth during the break, trying to shake off nervousness.
She was scheduled for the second match, Shampoo for the third. Akane watched the first match carefully, since she would be facing its winner. Once she won her own duel, of course. Lotion had pointed one of the two fighters out to her, a girl named Mascara, as a particularly dangerous opponent. Mascara was tall and heavily muscled, almost masculine in appearance. Her chosen weapon was a mace, solid and less festive looking than the chui Shampoo favored, which she swung with ease.
The other girl made a valiant effort for several minutes, but was clearly outmatched and lost in the end. As the girl dodged a blow from the mace, Mascara reached out with a foot and neatly tripped her, sending her tumbling off to the side. When the winner jumped to the ground she gave Akane a nod, as if to say that they'd be meeting each other soon. Akane nodded back, trying to appear just as confident.
Akane jumped onto the log to face yet another unarmed challenger. When told to begin, they both moved to within striking distance of one another and then stopped. Waiting. Ready for anything.
They held their poses for ten agonizingly long seconds and then launched simultaneous and furious attacks. Punches and kicks were exchanged and blocked at incredible speed, accompanied by explosive kiya's and grunts as flesh impacted flesh. Akane forced the other girl to duck backward, then a moment later was forced to retreat herself, rolling backward out of reach.
Ranma only became aware that he was crushing the armrests of the chair with his fingers when he heard the wood crack. He didn't look away from the fight above, but did slowly force his fingers to relax. He could swear that he felt each blow that got through Akane's defense, making soft grunts to match her louder ones.
Akane suddenly staggered back, tilting to the side. Ranma tugged forward against the pull of his seat, willing her to regain her footing. She reached out and grabbed the rope, then swung herself around it through space. At the end of her spin, as she came back over the log, Akane straightened her legs out, driving them hard into her opponent's chest. The other girl went flying off the log, bounced on the ground, and landed in Ranma's lap.
Ranma knew his face was turning red as Akane quirked an eyebrow at him from her position atop the log. The mother of the dazed girl rushed over to Ranma and helped her daughter to her feet, supporting her. The two of them swayed off into the crowd and by the time Ranma gazed upward again, Akane had dropped out of sight. He was fairly confident that she wasn't going to blame him for the incident, but he still wished that he could go and talk to her.
Akane was shaking her head in exasperation, reminding herself that she had to have a thick skin about such things. After all, it seemed that Ranma was destined to find himself in such situations, probably for the rest of his life. With one final exhalation she put the matter behind her, and turned to watch Shampoo's bout.
The girl Shampoo fought showed an impressive level of skill. Her twin blades wove in and out between Shampoo's chui, preventing her from closing. Shampoo attacked with a sudden, sharp thrust toward her opponent but the other girl leaped up and somersaulted over Shampoo's head, landing behind her. Shampoo immediately spun around, the two effectively exchanging their positions on the log. The battle continued.
Akane grew increasingly worried as she watched. The girl fighting Shampoo - what was her name? Akane found her mind frustratingly blank. But the girl was fighting with unbelievable speed, faster than Akane knew herself to be. Yet Shampoo was defending easily. As a martial artist, Akane could tell that Shampoo's concentration was tightly focused, that she was not taking her opponent lightly. Yet her manner was one of supreme confidence, keeping the other girl entirely on the defensive, with no indication that there was more than one way for this match to end.
What mistake did the other girl make? Akane couldn't tell, her execution appeared to have been flawless. Yet some mistake there must have been as Shampoo gave a shrill cry of triumph, in itself another attack, and swung hard. The chui came in under the girl's arm, hard and fast, and struck her in the side with a sickening crack. With a howl of anguish she plummeted, only to be caught at the last second by a young man who rushed out of the ring of spectators. On regaining her feet she gave this boy a withering look, pressed her arm to her side, and marched off without a backward glance.
Akane wandered off, her feet failing to trace a straight path. Her mouth was dry and for the first time that day she felt fear rising up to gnaw at her. The person who had just fought Shampoo had been good, very, very good. Strong, fast, and enormously skilled. Akane wasn't at all sure that she could have defeated her. But it hadn't even been close. Shampoo may not have been able to win with a single blow, but everyone watching had been sure of how it would turn out from the moment the duel started.
How could she hope to win? What possible chance was there for her to gain the victory that she and Ranma needed? Living under the same roof as Ranma, Akane had long ago quietly stopped referring to herself as the best. The young woman knew, without false modesty, that she had made enormous strides since the beating Shampoo had given her in Nerima, training under Ranma, uncle Saotome and especially Lotion. But she had learned to be honest with herself, and she felt an inner certainty that she would need several more months training, minimum, in order to have anything like a chance of defeating Shampoo.
The teenage girl squatted by a small sapling on the edge of the fairground, tracing a finger along the bark, not seeing it. She struggled to hold back tears, feeling overwhelmed. It was all suddenly just too much. In the distance a loud exclamation signaled the end of the current round, but this too drew no reaction from her.
As the break started before the second to last round of the tournament, Shampoo decided that she had waited long enough. She strolled over to where Ranma sat and said brightly in Japanese, "So airen, it go well, yes? Soon Shampoo win, we marry. Big wedding, much celebration."
Ranma lowered his eyebrows. Fighting to achieve a mocking tone, he told her, "Shampoo, you don't stand a chance. I guarantee you're going to lose."
Shampoo drew herself up to her full height. "Airen have eyes closed instead of watch? Shampoo win easy. Then you be Shampoo's forever."
Ranma focused his eyes in the distance, ignoring her. Shampoo huffed, then marched off to get some water. Herb took the opportunity to lean closer and said, "She's right, you know. She's certain to win."
Ranma looked up at the man beside him. There had been nothing teasing or sarcastic in his voice, just an honest statement of fact. Ranma decided to answer Herb just as seriously. "Meaning no disrespect, and not to bring up painful memories or nothing, but once upon a time you were certain to win a fight with me." Herb's expression clouded and Ranma winced, seeing it, but went on. "My point is, Akane's trained in the same style as me. She'll find a way to win. No matter what it takes."
Herb straightened back up, crossing his arms. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough," he said coolly.
At that moment the crowd parted and Ranma saw a figure in the distance, sitting beside a small tree. Even as far away as he was, he could sense the air of dejection hanging over her. The gap closed again, hiding her from sight. Ranma looked around wildly, until he spotted Lotion speaking with the convalescent Perfume.
"Hey! Hey, Lotion! Over here!" He waved madly, drawing numerous stares. The elder looked up with a frown, but slowly made her way over to him.
"Yes? What is it boy?" she asked when she was near enough.
"I wanna get out of this chair for a bit. Let me up."
Lotion raised her eyebrows. "Why? What are you up to? We were planning to keep you there until the end of the tournament."
Ranma almost snarled. "If you don't let me up, I'll tear my way out of this thing. There ain't no reason I should have to stay here between bouts. I promise I'll come back before the next round. I'll sit back down without a word of protest."
The elder gave him a long, searching look. In the end she sighed and suggested, more to herself than to him, "I suppose if anyone asks I can tell them you needed to answer a call of nature. Very well." She raised her staff and touched it to the chair. A few seconds later Ranma bounced up, free again.
"Thanks! I'll be back in a bit!" His form wavered, then vanished from sight.
"Wait! What?" Lotion's head whipped around, seeking the boy but not finding him. "Dammit! What was the point of putting those weights on you, anyway? You shouldn't have that much control over your chi!" The old woman wondered if he was even close enough to hear her anymore.
Prince Herb said nothing. The eyes he had inherited from his dragon ancestress followed a bundle of tightly wrapped chi as it made its way across the grounds. As an application of chi it intrigued him, realizing that it would fool the eye of any ordinary person. The young prince of the Musk lost himself in thought working out how to reproduce the process.
Ranma dropped the masking technique of the umisen-ken when he was a couple of meters from Akane. "Hey," he called softly.
Akane looked up. "Hey yourself. Get tired of being on display as the prize?"
Ranma grimaced. "Talked Lotion into letting me stretch my legs for a bit. Mind if I sit?"
Akane motioned to the ground nearby with her hand. Ranma sat in the proffered spot, making sure to keep his back to the mob near the challenge log. After all, he didn't want anyone coming over to interrupt. Ranma regarded his fiancée carefully while thinking over what to say.
Unable to think of anything clever, in the end he simply asked, "So what's up?"
Akane shrugged. "Not much. Just waiting for the next round."
"You don't seem too excited about it. Come on! Just two rounds to go and we'll finally be free of Shampoo forever!" He raised his eyebrows and grinned as he said this, trying to get a reaction.
"I hope so," Akane answered dully.
Ranma sighed. "So why don't you tell me what's wrong. You suddenly having doubts? Why?"
Akane looked past him, in the direction of the challenge log. "I've been watching Shampoo in her fights. Unless I get lucky ..." She turned and looked at him directly. "She's still better than me, isn't she?"
He returned her gaze, not flinching, remaining silent for several long seconds as he tried to find the right words to answer this.
"Yes and no," he finally told her. "You're too hung up on who's faster, who's got the better balance, who can execute the best snap kick. These fights ain't just about that."
He bit his lower lip, looking at the clouds in the sky for inspiration. "Lucky, you said? It's time you learned to make your own luck. What've we been trying to tell you all along? You're a practitioner of Anything Goes. We always find a way to win in the end. It may not be easy. It may not be smart. It may not be sane. But there's always a way."
Akane still looked doubtful. Ranma scooted closer and put a finger under her chin. "Listen to me. Shampoo's better than you on pure technique, yes. And it's gonna take you several more months training, at least, to close that gap. But that's the only edge Shampoo has on you. You're smarter. You're more adaptable. You got more imagination. You got an inner fire that totally outshines her. And in the end, those are a lot more important than technique."
He let his hand drop, pleased to see that Akane was drinking in his words, no longer looking so lost. "So I want you to use that inner fire. You use that strength you got inside you. And you win this thing." Ranma reached up and touched the headband. "Don't you ever forget that I'm already yours. All you're doing here today is convincing everyone else. You and me, we already know it."
Akane took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She realized that she had found her center again. When she opened her eyes she gave Ranma a radiant smile and told him, "You've just earned yourself a kiss, buster." With a quick look around to make sure that no one was paying them any attention, she leaned forward and locked her lips to his.
When they separated, Ranma looked blank for a moment before saying, "Whoo! I need to try to remember that speech." He gave her a grin and said, "Are you sure that was for me? 'Cause I think maybe you were just pepping yourself up for the next fight."
Akane gave him a saucy grin of her own. "You can take it any way you like. Now I've got to go; I have a tournament to win. And I think maybe the prize should be getting back in place too."
Ranma wrinkled his nose at her. "Remind me never to be the prize again. It's hell having to just sit on the sidelines, not being part of the fighting myself."
His fiancée widened her eyes at him. "You're telling me that? Try to remember that the next time you're fighting someone over me." She stood then gave him a hand up. With one last look into each other's eyes, Ranma's form wavered and disappeared from her sight. Akane turned her steps toward where the remaining contestants were gathered, her features set in steely determination, and marched forward.
The judge called out, "Next match, Akane Tendo and Mascara! Challengers take your places!"
The two opponents jumped onto opposite ends of the log. Akane took a moment to study the other woman again. Mascara's mace would not kill her if it made contact, thanks to the breaking point training, but would almost certainly knock her off of the log. At the same time, its momentum would require effort on Mascara's part to keep it under sufficient control so as not to expose herself. Akane was confident that she would be the more mobile of the two of them in the coming fight. Even so she warned herself to be cautious. Mascara had won the previous round not with the mace but with her foot.
With the call to begin they slowly approached one another. Mascara had no intention of lunging heedlessly with her mace, knowing full well the danger of overcommitting herself against an unarmed opponent. In the first few exchanges she didn't use the mace at all, except to block with its handle. She finally swung while Akane was making a high kick, but Akane managed to nimbly twist and bend her legs out of its path, somersaulting backward and landing on her feet once more.
Akane got in the first blow, a glancing punch to Mascara's left wrist which had her backing away for a few seconds while shaking the hand. She recovered quickly, however, and pressed the attack again. Akane tried to kick the mace away, once, after it swept past. Mascara caught her kicking leg with a kick of her own and nearly knocked Akane's feet out from under her. Akane twisted away and had to land on all fours, bouncing back out of range quickly.
Minutes passed, leaving both girls panting. They each took bruising blows, but Akane was getting the worst of it. She couldn't risk taking a single blow from the mace, and several times now feints from it had allowed Mascara to get in serious kicks. Akane had managed to ride them each time, but they were taking their toll. Then a blow from the handle end of the mace struck Akane in the side of the head, bringing a gasp from the crowd. She managed to roll backward, though, and regained her feet in time to force Mascara to jump back to avoid a kick.
There was a momentary pause as the two fatigued girls caught their breath, both of them watching the other carefully, ready to defend themselves instantly. Akane tried to think of some strategy she could use to win this, but nothing immediately occurred to her.
She knew that she had to do something soon. She was growing weary, and sooner or later she'd be too slow to dodge a blow from the mace and that would be it. It was just as well she had conserved her chi in the earlier fights, as Lotion had suggested. If she had been using it to enhance her blows beyond minimal amounts, she would have thoroughly exhausted herself by now.
This thought brought Akane up short as Mascara attacked again and she dodged backward. Conserving her chi wouldn't do her any good if she ended up losing, and she did have some reserves. But what was the best way to use it? Mascara had undergone the breaking point training a couple of years ago. A direct blow against her, even greatly chi enhanced, would by no means guarantee victory.
Akane ducked another thrust from the mace, then tried to kick the arm holding it but missed. Her eyes narrowed, looking upon the mace as it was pulled back, feeling as though she were seeing it for the first time. If her chi powered punch could shatter a rock or a tree, perhaps ...
The plan was complete in her head almost in that instant, simple but effective, and Akane wasted no time putting it into action. She channeled as much chi as she could into her left hand and as the mace swung around from the side, she intentionally dodged too slowly. Had she been able to take time to look, Akane would have seen reactions beginning on the faces of many of the spectators as they realized the mace would not miss this time. But her eyes were on her opponent, and she saw Mascara's lips start to curve up in anticipation of victory.
At the last moment Akane's left hand shot out, with enough force to shatter stone or dent a metal wall. When the solid iron head of the mace struck Akane's palm, it came to a screeching, impossible stop, then bounced back. The unexpected loss of momentum, coupled with the shock which ran up her arm, distracted Mascara for a tenth of a second. It was a tenth of a second she couldn't spare. Akane's foot was already sweeping around at blinding speed, and it struck Mascara in the side like a thunderbolt.
The Chinese girl did her best. She threw her mace into the crowd, causing spectators to dive out of the way. This halted her sideways motion, but it came too late. She was already off the log, far enough that her outstretched fingertips couldn't reach it. Mascara dropped lightly to the ground, where she promptly sank to her knees, eyes closed, trying to cope with the sudden defeat.
Ranma was shouting something but Akane couldn't make it out over the shouts of the rest of the crowd. It might have been something like, "That's my girl!" She didn't have much thought to spare on it, being too busy sucking air into her lungs while wondering if she had the strength to jump down safely. Finally deciding that she'd have to get down before Shampoo's match Akane took the plunge, and somehow managed to stay upright when she hit the ground. As the last moves of the fight replayed themselves in her mind, she examined her hand carefully, reassuring herself that the bones were not pulverized.
As Shampoo strolled past to take her place for her turn, she spoke quietly to Akane in Japanese, "That trick not work on Shampoo. No trick good enough. Shampoo beat like did before."
Akane decided she didn't have the strength to make a retort, so chose to ignore her instead. Mascara finally climbed heavily back to her feet. The two girls stared at each other for several seconds, bitter disappointment in Mascara's eyes and weariness in Akane's. They bowed at the same time, and then the Chinese girl turned and walked away into the crowd.
‹I did it,› Akane thought to herself. ‹I won. Just one more round to go. Uh, ...› She looked heavenward. ‹I don't suppose that anyone would care to answer a prayer that Shampoo make a mistake and lose in this round?› She looked back down and sighed. ‹Not too likely. So ... as soon as this fight ends I get half an hour to rest. Half an hour to come up with a plan to beat Shampoo. I wonder what odds Nabiki would give me?›
The judge's voice called out to begin and Akane looked up just in time to see Shampoo's opponent go flying off the log. Shampoo jumped back down and gave Akane a mocking grin before walking off.
Akane trembled. She reached up and touched fingertips to her forehead, to the image of the stallion. The trembles ceased. ‹There's always a way to win,› she reminded herself, recalling Ranma's words. ‹It may not be easy. It may not be sane. But it exists. I just have to find it.›
Taking a deep breath, Akane walked off to find something to drink and a place to sit down for a while.
Akane took stock of herself while she thought hard about how she might win the upcoming match. She was very, very determined to do so, whatever it might take. She just had to find a way.
With shocking suddenness, the insight crashed upon her that this must be exactly how Ranma had felt on several previous occasions. Times when victory seemed hopeless to everyone else, everyone except Ranma. He never allowed himself even to consider the possibility of defeat. It was just a question of how to win, and he found an answer every time.
Okay, she was tired, but the break was doing her a lot of good, and there was no way that Shampoo wasn't feeling some of the effects of the long day herself. Her chi reserves weren't exhausted, heck, she could probably manage another couple of blows like the one she used in the last bout. But Akane was sure that wasn't the way to go. Shampoo was certain to be ready for any such defense against her chui, especially after seeing Akane's last win. Unlike Mascara, Shampoo would not be caught by surprise for even a moment.
Akane let her mind drift back over all of the things Lotion had taught her, everything that Ranma had taught her. She even reflected on the things Genma had taught her. Somewhere in there she had to be able to find something. Some technique. Some trick. Something, anything she could use.
She was still thinking hard half an hour later when her name was called for the final match. Even so, Akane did not give in to despair. As she jumped upon the log her eyes raked over Shampoo calculatingly, taking in everything, seeking an answer to the problem before her.
The match began.
Neither opponent showed any emotion as they moved cautiously toward one another. Both felt confident. Both were determined not to be betrayed by that confidence. When they came within striking distance, both paused for a fraction of a second, assessing. Then both attacked.
The first flurry of blows was exchanged at such high speed that the spectators were only able to follow the action because of their own expertise at martial arts. This lasted for three endless seconds before Akane cried out as a kick connected with the shin she could not move aside in time. Stepping back hurriedly, her other foot lashed out in a kick to keep Shampoo at a distance. Steady again, Akane moved in once more.
Shampoo was, if not precisely frustrated, perhaps a little bugged that her first landed blow came from her foot rather than one of her chui. Nor had she been able to capitalize. Yet she remained calm, and settled herself to wearing down her enemy, while watching for any minor openings she could turn to her advantage.
The fight went on. Minutes passed.
Ranma was breathing hard, aching to scream just for the emotional release. Akane had gained numerous raw patches where blows had taken skin. She was now favoring her left arm. A thin trail of dried blood on her chin remained as a reminder of where she bit through her own lip. But she was still standing, her defense still solid. The question was, for how much longer?
His eye avoided Shampoo, who was as yet uninjured. At least she had a sheen of sweat on her forehead, and was breathing a trifle hard. Ranma could also hope she was feeling frustrated over how the match was going.
His hope was in vain. Shampoo was not frustrated. Her mind had fallen into an almost machine-like state, evaluating everything, planning each attack, keeping her defenses in place. She had long since decided that the surest approach was to wear Akane down slowly, one injury at a time. Confident in her own superiority, she nonetheless acknowledged that the girl she faced had a measure of skill and had shown a degree of trickiness in previous bouts. Shampoo would not risk opening herself up to some trick just to gain an immediate and grand victory.
Akane ducked low and her hand shot out toward the handle of one of Shampoo's maces. In that instant, the Chinese girl chose to sacrifice the weapon, seeing a possible advantage. Akane's blow knocked the chui from Shampoo's hand, giving her a moment of satisfaction at having reduced her opponent's weapons by half, but the satisfaction vanished immediately as a foot caught her in the side.
Akane twisted desperately to keep her balance and stay on the log. The other chui came around in a blindingly fast arc. Akane reacted instinctively, jumping high in a backward arc, her feet barely rising clear as the weapon passed by underneath. She did three somersaults backward through the air before landing awkwardly on the log. Two stumbling steps further brought her to the very end of the log, where she teetered dangerously for a moment before catching her balance and taking a step forward.
‹Damn!› Shampoo thought to herself, taking hold of her remaining weapon with both hands. She did not pursue immediately, taking a moment to covertly catch her breath. Out loud she mocked her rival. "Pervert girl try walk on air? Best keep feet on log. They be on ground soon enough."
Not once during the fight had Akane stopped seeking a way to win, some method of overcoming or bypassing the odds against her. On hearing Shampoo's comment, her chin suddenly lifted a centimeter or so, her eyes blinked a few times rapidly. No one took any notice. The moment passed on into other movements of no particular significance, shifting her balance, blowing a wisp of hair away from her eye. The moments after seemed no different from the moments before.
Except to one person. Of all those watching, only Ranma knew her well enough to sense that something had changed. He gripped the arms of the chair more tightly, straining forward.
During the few second's pause which Shampoo granted, Akane's thoughts churned at a furious pace, inspecting an idea from several sides. Considering possibilities. Refining her approach. It would be best if Shampoo could be coaxed into launching a hard attack, however cautiously she might do so. It might prove unnecessary but, still, better safe than sorry. Now how ...
Akane struggled to keep an evil grin from spreading on her face.
Akane looked Shampoo directly in the eyes, almost freezing the other girl in place as she took two very slow steps forward. They were still separated by several long paces. The young Japanese martial artist raised her fists slowly, thinking that it had all come down to this one moment. Akane knew that she was about to gamble everything. She'd have one shot, and if she failed then she lost it all. She began funneling as much chi as possible into her right leg.
Shampoo had settled herself back down and was ready to resume her plan. Akane had shown herself a strong fighter. Indeed, Shampoo almost felt a grudging respect for the Japanese girl. But she couldn't keep this up much longer. Akane was clearly the more weary of the two of them, and couldn't sustain many more injuries without leaving some major opening. It wouldn't be much longer now before Shampoo proved to everyone gathered who was truly the best, the most worthy of Ranma. No one could stand between her and her airen.
"Hey Shampoo." The voice was almost conversational, audible above the noise of the crowd but by no means shouted. Shampoo looked at Akane in puzzlement, wondering what was up. After all, she surely wasn't going to yield at this point, let alone wish her luck or anything of that sort.
As soon as she saw that she had Shampoo's attention, Akane went on in exactly the same tone of voice as before, speaking in Chinese to be sure that she was understood. The people in the front rows strained to hear what was being said.
"Something I meant tell you earlier. You know I have dinner with Ranma at guest house most nights. Last night everyone else go. We there alone." Akane paused theatrically, allowing a beatific smile to show on her face. "Wanted you to know, Ranma is wonderful lover. I afraid I be sore today, but feel great instead."
A curtain of red came down across Shampoo's vision. She gripped her remaining chui so hard the handle started to dent under her fingers.
Ranma's jaw dropped into his lap. What in hell was Akane up to? Surely she didn't think Shampoo would lose all focus from hearing something like that?
Cologne buried her face in her hand, unwilling to watch what was coming, whichever way it turned out. There was a possibility that her great-granddaughter would completely lose her grip, attacking recklessly and making herself easy prey for the Tendo girl. If so, she didn't want to see it. More likely was that she would retain control. If so, Cologne had no wish to see what Shampoo would do to Akane's body before it fell.
Shampoo, warrior of the Joketsuzoku, paused for an instant before attacking, reigning back her immediate impulse to charge blindly and crush Akane, forcing herself to think clearly. ‹She said that on purpose to make me lose my temper! To make me easy to beat! She's a fool. She's not going to catch me with any trick. But she'll pay for that! The kitchen destroyer must die!›
Shampoo then launched her final attack, running forward along the log, quickly seeking to close the distance to her target. Her attention was tightly focused, wary, determined that her anger would not betray her. No, her anger would serve her. Akane Tendo was about to learn what it meant to gain the wrath of a true warrior.
Akane's eyes were narrowed, watching Shampoo begin her charge. As soon as she was certain that the Chinese girl had committed herself, Akane quickly brought her right leg up, the knee almost flat against her chest. She pictured her opponent's face under her. As Shampoo's weapon rose high to strike, Akane's foot shot down, with all the chi she could muster lending it strength.
A loud crack thundered across the valley, echoing back and forth from the mountainsides.
Cologne's eyes shot open.
Akane was spinning, even as the two unequal halves of the challenge log swung down beneath her feet. Having positioned herself carefully, she easily grabbed the rope tied to her end of the log.
Shampoo found that she was the one running on air. The challenge log was in two pieces, each piece falling, pivoting around the ropes tied at either end. There was nothing under her feet, nothing within reach of her hands. No solution to be found in the brief millisecond before gravity claimed her.
Shampoo, warrior of the Joketsuzoku, hit the ground. Akane, victor and new honorary member of the Joketsuzoku, dangled from the rope above her.
Time froze, an instant captured in a memory which none present would ever forget.
Time started moving again.
Shampoo's eyes were wide with horror. An anguished "No!" tore itself from her throat. "That ... that's not fair! You can't do that! You ..."
"Shampoo!" The single snapped name cut across the tirade like a knife. Cologne marched up to her heir, face set in stone, bitter disappointment in her eyes. "Control yourself!"
"But ... but ..." Moisture was seeping out of the corners of her eyes.
Cologne spoke gratingly. "You touched the ground first. Your opponent wins. That's the rule."
Akane finally let herself drop to the ground. The judge reached her in two steps and grabbed her arm, lifting it high above her head. Shampoo stared helplessly at the sight, still not able to believe that this was happening. When the judge released her hand, Akane bowed to Shampoo.
Shampoo didn't move. Cologne prodded her with her staff. Finally, the young Amazon managed a bow. Unable to control herself any longer, Shampoo turned and ran off. She had no idea where she was going, she just needed to be away from here.
Lotion walked up to Akane and quietly congratulated her. As her eyes passed over Cologne, she restrained herself to a smile for her protégé's victory, careful not to allow any smugness into her expression. The sour look on Cologne's face made it all too clear that she was aware of the effort her rival was making not to cackle with glee. Several other people slowly came forward to offer Akane their congratulations as well.
"If someone doesn't let me out of this chair I'm gonna tear it to splinters!" Ranma's shouted voice was easily heard above the buzz of conversations among the spectators.
"I think we'd better do as he asks," Lotion said calmly.
Akane followed the elder over to where Ranma was sitting. She was surprised when Herb's wife Jasmine gave her a wink. Even the prince gave her a nod of approval, his face grave.
As soon as Lotion touched her staff to the throne, Ranma leaped out of it. He swept Akane into his arms, spinning around and around with her, laughing. Caught up in the moment she joined his laughter, then pressed her lips forward onto his. The kiss became protracted, to the point that Lotion had to clear her throat to capture their attention.
The elder remarked with good humor, "That will certainly do as a kiss of marriage to mark the end of the tournament."
Akane and Ranma turned to her with raised eyebrows before Ranma replied, "Uh, right. Marrying me was supposed to be the prize for this tournament, wasn't it? Well, I got every intention of marrying Akane. As soon as we get back to Japan, we can start making plans." He turned to Akane. "I think we decided on March, didn't we? Right after we graduate?"
Akane smiled. "All of a sudden, I'm wishing that March was closer."
Lotion shook her head, smiling evilly. "I'm afraid you two don't understand. The person who won the tournament was to marry Ranma. Right here. Immediately. We'll be holding the ceremony tomorrow."
The two teenagers, arms still wrapped around one another, stared at her speechlessly. They struggled to make their mouths work, to voice all of the obvious objections why they would not do so, but the shock was simply too great. With a slight tap of the elder's staff in the center of Ranma's chest, the two of them fell back to sit together on the throne, with Akane resting on Ranma's lap. They found themselves locked in place, unable to rise. The couple were forced to sit there for the next hour as most of the people in the village came up to wish them happiness in their upcoming marriage. Their stuttered protests went entirely unheeded.
Author's note:
Stick around for chapter 11, where we find out whether Akane and Ranma give in and go through with the wedding, or whether they decide to escape even though Akane won the tournament.
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