"Do you see him, that young feller right over there?"
"What in the world do you supposed happened to him?"
"That poor kid… You think he might be homeless?"
"Be a real shame if he was. Not having nowhere to live... This country just ain't what it used to be anymore."
"Now, you went and got him started."
"Well, he ain't wrong. The boy sure smells ripe enough for the street, that's for sure. When's the last time he took a bath?"
"Come on now, you shouldn't say things like that!"
"No reason he can't walk himself to the bathhouse. This is our neighborhood he's strolling through. I ain't said anything out of turn."
"Wonder how he got his clothes are all roughed up."
"And that sack hanging off his backside… Just where is he off to?"
"Maybe he's going camping."
"Camping? My arthritis acts up in this weather. Wife can hardly get me out the house."
"He's got a bit of a hobble, doesn't he?"
"Be a real shame if he couldn't get that looked after. Not being able to pay for medical visits... This country just ain't what it used to be anymore.
"His hair looks so oily, I hope he washes it."
"It breaks my heart to see youth like this."
"Maybe he just got out of a fight?"
"That could be."
"He might be a delinquent."
"My granddaughter is going through one of those phases herself. I hope it doesn't stick."
"There have been some shady characters hanging around the park in the evening."
"Isn't it a little early?"
"I hope the dear isn't too badly hurt."
"Whoever beat 'em could've done him some dignity and left his clothes in one piece."
"It's hard to tell if that shirt he's wearing is meant to be yellow or brown for how dirty it looks."
"Maybe we should lend him a hand?"
"He looks upset."
"I would be too if someone went and cleaned my clock."
"But he isn't wearing a watch..?"
"Go back home and take your medicine."
"Be a real shame if he's forced to walk in rags. Not being able to afford to dress properly... This country just ain't what it used to be anymore."
"At the very least, we could direct him to the nearest shelter."
"It's better than letting him wander the streets on his own."
"I guess."
"Young man! If we could spare a moment of your time, please!"
The young man in question spun around, his face burning red with shame and embarrassment. "I do have ears, y'know! For your information, I'm not homeless, alright? I mean- I've just- Today's been- Argg! Don't you people have more important things to do with your time than standing around fussing over me? Beat it!" he hollered.
The older crowd of residents he had amassed the attention of collectively eeped and let the boy in rags be, hurrying about to do something else, and hoping to escape the young man's ire. He turned his head to look further down the road. Others who had begun to see what the fuss was all about focused back on their original tasks and looked away, also.
The few girls his age that caught sight of him spared him a glace or two. Some with curiosity, others with concern, and each time his face would go brick red and he'd stare at the ground, avoiding their eyes, and cursing his need to squeeze as much use as he could out of his tattered clothing.
Once everyone cleared out, the young man calmed himself down and sighed. He hadn't intended to snap at them as intensely as he did, but their gossiping whispers were embarrassing, and their lack of subtlety about it made him all the more self-conscious. He was only standing a few feet away; they had to have known he was listening. He could only hope that later in life, when he was old and gray, things wouldn't be so boring that he'd ramble on about people he didn't even know to pass the time.
True to their words, though, pack on his back and body wrapped in rags, the young man did indeed look very traveled. I got here much quicker than I could've hoped, for all the good that's done me... All he wanted to do was leave China. Was that so wrong? Making it there to begin with was a call for celebration, a journey he was proud of. Now, it just represented another card in the bad hand life seemed so intent on dealing him.
He had returned from that…that terrible place, back to the cultural centre of Japan for the same reason he traveled across land and sea, time and time again...
In pursuit of the bane of his existence: Ranma Saotome.
Once he lost track of Ranma after that awful accident in China, the ragged boy, resilient as ever, tried his best to follow what little trail he could manage to pick up.
After the springs, it seemed all trace of Ranma's presence had disappeared. Poof! The guy was nowhere, not a place to be found. For a brief moment, he had wondered if the ponytailed boy somehow met his end in those strange pools like he almost had, but he shook away those doubts fairly quickly. He wasn't so fortunate to be rid of Ranma that easily.
Eventually, backtracking Ranma's trail led him to a village the Saotome duo had passed through. The martial artists had come in search of supplies and the people there indulged them. From idle chit-chat with Ranma's father, one of the villagers recalled him planning to leave for Tokyo once he and his son finished their business in China. After some dumpster diving through belongings the Saotome's threw away there (which earned him a few odd looks from the locals), the ragged boy had pinpointed the exact location of their next destination: Nerima. Thank goodness one of them liked circling things!
With a place in mind, he strode off confidently into the setting sun to begin his travels anew.
Then his footing gave on the walking trail, he slipped, and ended up rolling down the side of a mountain screaming.
Not his best moment.
He wasn't sure how long he spent tumbling down, but next he knew, he was airborne. For a while, it was nice not repeatedly cutting himself on jagged terrain, but that reprieve ended when he crash-landed into something slimy and flopped onto the ground.
Unfortunately, he hadn't had it in him to check what it was. Exhaustion set in, and he promptly passed out. It would have to wait until he woke up.
And he had woken up to the smell.
He didn't know what greater power had given him the tolerance to sleep through it, but he had. And eventually, that putrid, rancid stench finally forced enough of itself through his nostrils that even he, injured, sleep deprived, and fatigued as he had been, couldn't bear to stand it any longer.
He would never forget how much he reeked. And neither would anyone else for that matter. It had been two days since he left that place and the odor still lingered on everything he owned. He had been resting on a pile of dead fish. Dead. Fish. It was gross, it was disgusting, and when he woke up, he was freaking out. He figured he had to fallen onto some sort of transport ship, but that ship could have been carrying him off to the other side of the world for all he knew.
Fearing the worst, he maneuvered himself through the tall stack of crates that had shielded him as he slept. He lost lot of supplies during that fall, and damaged what little he had left. But those weren't his primary concerns then; he just wanted to get out of there.
He didn't feel the same shift in balance he would normally sense when a ship was active, so he'd hoped they were docked. He had tip-toed two steps towards the edge of the ship to check, before he was met with the glares of several men.
He had run smack into the ship's security.
Security and their weapons.
Weapons that hurt things.
Him things.
All because they thought he was a stowaway or a spy, one sent from a rival corporation who had once tried to pilfer information from aboard their ship to blackmail them.
Oh, and get this: they were apparently transporting their products into the country illegally. Just his luck to get stuck on the ship of an illegal seafood operation of all things!
Once he ditched those guys, he took to the streets, amazed to find that their vessel was docked in Japan. Tokyo, in fact! He...had done it. He was here! He was that much closer towards pulverizing Ranma Saotome. Despite everything he had gone through, the pains he suffered, and the humiliation he faced, he had made it back in one piece... His exhilaration was cut short, however, when in the midst of madly cackling on the sidewalk, he was hit by a car.
Now…despite having crumpled onto the ground with her vehicle parked directly behind him on the sidewalk, the woman insisted that she had done nothing wrong. If anything, he was standing too close to the road and she might have grazed him. 'He was fine', she said. On the bright side, the worst he'd carry from that encounter was a little soreness, but that was beside the point.
The woman had attempted to apologize by handing him a bagel she hadn't bitten off of yet for breakfast, which only made him angry, and listening to her nervous chuckle as she tried to ease her way back into her car and away from the scene of the crime didn't help any. Regardless, he had other things to take care of, so he took the 'gift' as it were and tried to let bygones be bygones.
Unfortunately, when he actually tried to take a bite of the darned thing (the first morsel of food he would have eaten in… Come to think of it, how long was he on that ship?) a bird swooped in and stole it in its beak. Quite a few expletives were said at that moment.
After that, he was fuming. Any amount of hunger or soreness he might've had was pushed aside as he continued on his search in anger. He'd come across a pack of rabid dogs, low-life street punks, and many more undesirables that left him ready to blow his stack.
And to top it all off, a boy no older than four, getting off the train from a metro he passed by, told him that he smelled like a big dookie. A big Dookie! And his mother agreed!
He had been meaning to ask if they could direct him on a more reliable path (he still had no idea how he even ended up at the metro), but after that little comment, he decided to go it alone. He didn't want any assistance from people like those.
Really, asking for directions in general proved to be of very little help. No matter how many people he questioned, all of them gave him faulty advice. He didn't know if they were doing it to him on purpose to mess with him, or if they simply didn't know where he needed to go and were lying to save face.
He could understand not wanting to look clueless, especially if it was about a location they were supposed to be local to. But was it really that serious? Lying to a complete stranger, simply telling them anything to hide their ignorance? If folks were sending him on wild goose chases just for the heck of it, then he was going to be pissed. He could live without the attitude as well.
Oh, the attitude. Don't get him started on the nerve of some people. The last woman he talked to nearly dragged him off to the local hospital!
By the time she stopped and reiterated her directions to him for the third time, she was trying to check if he was drunk or had brain damage. Rude. He was just following instructions. So once she finally threw her hands up and told him to head east, he went south just like she said and ended up in a completely different ward from the one he was trying to get to.
The young man gritted his teeth in frustration and stopped walking. What was the point of pressing on so determinedly if nothing came from it? He had miraculously found his way to Tokyo much sooner than he could have ever hoped - and for what? His terrible, no good, very bad luck had turned a 180 for one instant only to lead him down a path with no exit in sight.
It was time to face facts…
He unfolded the map in his hands and glowered at it.
"...The people who printed this lousy sheet of paper were obviously scammers."
But the real reason was already apparent to him. It always was. It always had been. It always would be.
He slouched.
"I'm lost."
There, he said it. The map balled in his hand. He was trying real hard not to tear it from aggravation, but a part of him knew that it probably wouldn't change a whole lot if he did.
Such was the fate of the Eternally Lost Boy. Such was the fate of Ryoga Hibiki.
Ever since Ryoga came to Tokyo, his time had been spent endlessly traversing the land. From sewers to playgrounds, businesses to houses, and woods to the roofs of shopping complexes; he'd been traveling around districts and locations far and wide, but never once had he reached Nerima. The only reason he was still in Tokyo at all right now was because he had somehow managed to maze himself in the city. But who knew how long that would last?
He should be grateful that he had made it to begin with. He was, and could only imagine the number of weeks or months it would have taken him to make it to Japan on his own, but it didn't stop him from wanting more. It didn't stop him from wanting to dash out of wherever the heck he was and find Ranma so he could pound his stupid face right into the afterlife! He had waited close to three years - he didn't want to wait anymore.
Based on most of what he's heard so far, Nerima wasn't known for having any locale that should attract Ranma. There'd be no mountains with altitudes that would leave you breathless, rapids where one wrong step could send you careening over a waterfall, or, he shuddered, bamboo as tall as ten men that grew out of those accursed pits of water. The ponytailed boy would instead be moving someplace quiet, a place filled with other, more ordinary people.
A home, he imagined.
From what Ryoga learned of Ranma before he fled the country, the boy didn't often just stroll into big cities for the heck of it. He and his father were on some sort of cross-continental training quest, one seemingly only broken up by small reprieves, like attending school.
If Ryoga could hope, scary as that practice was, then Ranma might finally be settling down in one place again. And if that's the case, then the only thing he needed to do was stay put long enough for Ryoga to locate and put an end to him.
He didn't have an address or anything to go off of, and there was always the chance that Nerima was just another pit stop on their travels, but if Ranma really was settling down, and if he planned on continuing his education, then the local high school should be the first place Ryoga checks. And if that somehow didn't work out then…then…then…
SLAM!
"If I can't find Ranma that way, then I'll search each and every house in that stupid ward! All of Japan if I have to! I don't care how long it takes, what I have to do, or who tries to slow me down, I will not let that bastard get away from me this time, I can promise him that!"
"'Cuse me, sonny?"
"What?" Ryoga hotly demanded. Looking over, he saw a middle-aged man, shorter than him, with scraggly, graying hair and eyeglasses. He was wearing a collared shirt with a vest draped over, dark baggy slacks with sandals, and a pouch fitted to the left side of his hip.
"That there's my fence ya got y'all's arm pokin' through." He pointed.
Ryoga slowly shifted his gaze over to his left arm, finding it embedded in the wooden fixture. He knew something felt off. The walls he normally punches tend to be a lot sturdier.
"Ah." Ryoga retracted his arm from the man's fence, flakes of wood falling off as he did. "I uh," he started sheepishly. "It wasn't-I mean, I didn't mean t-to strike at any of your property, sir. I was distracted and wasn't paying attention and... Uh..."
The man studied him.
He awkwardly laughed. "I'm sorry."
The older man came around to inspect the damage. The hole wasn't too large, only a little wider than Ryoga's fist, but a nicely sized opening all the same. Fortunately, his strike didn't tear the whole thing down altogether. The man glanced at the teenager beside him, who had his eyes trained down at the ground in shame. "Quite the dent y'all left in there," he said matter-of-factly.
"It was an accident, I swear," Ryoga stammered.
The man hummed acknowledgment before moving further down the sidewalk, away from the ragged boy. Ryoga watched him walk away, confused at his actions. Did that mean he was off the hook? He didn't look angry with him.
The bespectacled man looked over his shoulder at his younger companion. "Well, you gunna stop gawkin' at me and start moseyin' on or aren'tcha? That hole ain't gonna fix itself."
"Wha?"
The man turned around disgruntled, pointing at Ryoga. "You're the one who made a mess of things, accident or not, so take responsibility an' finish what you started."
"'Finish what I'…" His eyebrows knotted. "You...you want me to break it some more?" Now he was getting looked at like he was stupid. He started by punching a hole in the fence, what did he expect him to think?
"…Now, why would I..?" The man ran an aged hand down his face. "No. You're comin' with me to the hardware store to round up some 2x4, and then you'll be repairin' that fence once we get back." With that finished, he started on again.
"B-B-But-"
"What?" He stopped.
"I don't have time to spend fixing fences! Sorry, but there's other stuff I have to take care of. Not to mention," he said, gesturing at his beat-up wardrobe. "I'm not waltzing into some store dressed like this."
The older man muttered in discontent at Ryoga's protest. Tough. He had things to take care of; Ranma was still out there somewhere. The man walked over to Ryoga again and pulled something out of his pouch.
A needle and thread.
Before Ryoga even had time to wonder what that was about, the man's hands whipped around in lightning-fast motion. His fingers were blurs as they danced the air past him. Ryoga was frantically wondering what to do. Avoiding that needle at such a close distance would be near impossible, even for him. He had been caught completely off-guard.
But...it didn't hurt.
Ryoga relaxed some when he saw that he wasn't under attack, his clothes were.
The man's assault abruptly ended. He pocketed his items before giving a dumbfounded and wary Ryoga a once over, examining his work. He brought a hand up to stroke his whiskered chin.
"That oughta do for now," he said softly.
Ryoga came out of it and followed the man's eyes to see that his torn clothes had been patched and stitched together again. And really nicely, too. Even his pants were missing the tears that had been in them.
He looked up at the man who watched him expectedly.
"Well," he huffed. "gonna say thanks?"
How did he even do that? He was so quick Ryoga almost couldn't keep up with his movements. Was that some kind of unusual technique that utilized sowing utensils? Ryoga was well versed in using cloth in combat, but this guy didn't seem like a martial artist.
"Thank you," Ryoga told him honestly, "but that's not the issue. I already had a change of clothes in my bag."
"Y'all can rinse up proper once you're done with the fence. No point an' gettin' dressed up to work."
Ryoga grounded his teeth. This man didn't understand.
As if reading his mind, the man continued. "Whatever you gotta do can wait. You want passerby on street watchin' me through my windows while I'm gettin' changed? I don't want any voyeurs peepin' in on me!"
Who would want to go sneaking looks at this old guy?!
Ryoga stood there for a moment, weighing his options. He could always just take off, leave the old goat behind, but that wouldn't be right, would it? Not after he had wrecked his fence and gotten patched up by the man. Staying would be the honorable thing to do, the right thing to do, but…
Ranma's still out there, and if Ryoga was wrong about him staying put and he went on the move again, he could end up losing his trail.
Ryoga looked at the man who was waiting, somewhat impatiently, for him to follow and let out a long, resigned sigh. All the same… All the same, who am I kidding? I'm probably not any closer now than I was when I started. I might as well… With great reluctance, he walked towards the man. I may be on the hunt to destroy Ranma, but helping people is a martial artists' duty, right?
"Hey, whereya goin'? I'm this way! This way!" The man waved from behind him. Ryoga turned around, fighting his blush.
"O-Oh, right. Sorry."
Ranma went down another street in a residential area he didn't know the name or number of. He had passed through about two different neighborhoods while walking. This one was lined with tract houses all styled the same, with hardly any breathing room between them. He continued to trek on with his hands in his pockets.
Since his favorites were dirty and he hadn't had the chance to wash them yet, he decided to go with one of his other Chinese-styled shirts, of which he had many. It was short-sleeved, saffron, pretty plain, had some elastic at the waist, and a red bow-tie. He had thrown on his navy blue pants and some black slip-ons when he headed out the Tendo home. It wasn't a bad outfit, but he preferred the red ones more.
Houses in the city, he was remembering, were much more packed together than the ones he'd become accustomed to lately. Long gone were the stretches of land where your nearest neighbor could seem miles apart. In this part of Tokyo, everyone looked kind of sardined next to each other.
Ranma wondered how much privacy you could get when you were practically bumping shoulders with the person next door. Personally, he didn't think he'd be able to stand it for long. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to. The Tendo dojo had more than enough land to accommodate him, even if he had to share it with a bunch of strangers.
But they wouldn't be strangers for long. He would be interacting with the Tendo's daily from now on, and since his father had already gone and set it up, the same would be true with other people his age.
Ranma remembered his time spent at junior high. The other boys there could be sort of fun to hang around. There were the nerds that studied all day and night and competed with each other to see who'd get the highest grade on tests, the sports fellas who'd try and skip out of class or clean up in order to practice, the geeks who'd sort through magazines and comics and blab about cartoons until they were blue in the face… Ranma remembered all of those guys. He was friends with plenty of people there, but in the end, it all felt kind of passing.
He wasn't close to any one there the same way some of them were to each other. If he ran into someone from his old class today, he'd probably pass right them by without a second thought. That wouldn't be him acting rude either; he just couldn't picture a single person from back then clearly. That was almost three years ago and no one had made much of an impression on him. Except…
Except maybe for that one guy. Heh… I wonder what that clown's up to nowadays…
A low growl woke him from memory lane.
Immediately, his face sunk into an angry pout. Oh, right. I ain't had anything to eat this morning 'cept for a couple stinkin' pieces of fruit. He kneeled down and crossed his arms, his brows creasing. Shoot, I shoulda just stayed at the dojo. This was stupid. For all I know, Kasumi's back and Pops' probably chowing down on both our meals…
He perked up, hearing the sound of faint clipping coming from the house near him. With a single bound, Ranma leapt with practiced ease on top of a brick wall.
"Yo," he called out.
A man sprung back from his bushes and fell over. He was a pudgy guy, probably in his forties, and gardening from the looks of it, if those cutters in the ground between his legs were any indication.
The man was taking quick breaths, clutching his chest, still reeling from the scare. Oh, come on. Geez, it shouldn't take all that you big baby, Ranma grumbled internally.
"W-Where'd you come from just now?" the man breathed out, pointing at him.
"Back there," Ranma thumbed behind him. "Other side of the wall. Look, can I ask you something?"
"D-D-D-Do you have any idea what would've happened if I had dropped these somewhere more delicate?!" he gasped, eyes trained fixedly on the sharpened tool.
Ranma winced. "Easy." He held up his hands. "I didn't mean to spook you. I just heard someone over here and was kinda lost. Figured you could help point me in the right direction."
The man crawled back from the cutters and sat upright, glaring slightly. "…What do you want, kid?"
"Any idea where a guy can get something to eat? I'm starvin' and don't know where anything is."
The man lazily scratched his chin and looked back up at Ranma. "Well, you'll have to head further into town. You'll find plenty of things off to the north of here." He pointed. "There are some shopping centers, restaurants… You take your pick. I'm pretty sure most are open by now."
"Is it far?"
The man stood up, righting himself. "Maybe a fifteen minute walk or so. You're young, you'll manage."
I'll make it there quicker than that. Ranma nodded. "That'll work, thanks!"
Two figures leisurely walked the road together, side by side. While one contented themselves with speaking, the other remained silent, quietly coming to regret their decision to tag along on this little expedition.
All the man wanted was for his fence to be repaired, then Ryoga would be sent on his merry way and that would be the end of that. The work shouldn't be too difficult; Ryoga had worked odd jobs like this before, but he couldn't ignore the feeling churning in his gut. The one that kept on reminding him that this was a colossal waste of time, that this trip was getting in the way of his quest for vengeance, that he couldn't afford to have this detour sidetrack him.
He tried to bury those worries, but they were valid concerns. Who's to say that he wouldn't have run into Ranma not ten minutes after he met…Tamaru, was it? Tamaru Mutsu? Yeah. If he wasn't out here wasting away precious daytime, would Ryoga have already located Ranma by now? What if he already missed his window? What if he was too late?
Mr. Mutsu was finishing up the introduction he started on ten minutes ago. Ten. Minutes. Ago. That was almost a quarter of an hour, and who knew how many of those Ryoga had spent in vain already. How long would this trip take? Couldn't that man walk any faster? Had he used up all his speed fixing his clothes? Ryoga hadn't gotten the chance to ask Mr. Mutsu about that trick he performed on him earlier either. He was still curious about that.
But even then, his mind just kept boomeranging back to Ranma. Has he even made it to Japan yet, or have I come too early? And if he is here, what if…what if he decides to leave the country a second time? He clenched his teeth together. Is he going to force me to go through this all over again?
"Sonny?"
Ryoga came back. "I'm sorry, what?"
Tamaru gave him a grumpy frown, upset that his audiences' mind was elsewhere. "You're spacin' out," he said. "I can't be all that boring to y'all, can I?"
"Oh, n-no, sir. Not at all. The wind caught that last bit. Don't worry, I was paying attention," Ryoga lied.
Tamaru snorted but otherwise said nothing. Things became quiet between the two after that. Ryoga hadn't meant to seem rude, but if the man decided to take that as a hint, then he wouldn't mind the lack of interruption. He still had to think of a new approach towards reaching that ward.
"You're a quiet fella, ain'tcha?" Tamaru finally said.
"Excuse me?"
"I know it ain't somethin' you're lookin' forward to, but lighten up," Tamaru advised. "Treatin' this trip like it's like the end a' the world ain't gonna make it go any quicker. I always felt conversation helps ease the nerves, so go ahead an' take it easy."
"O-Okay."
Tamaru looked him in the eye. "So, mind explain' to me why you were walkin' 'round with your duds all torn to pieces? That some new style or are you in some kinda trouble?"
Ryoga shifted uncomfortably, a bit put on the spot. He wasn't used to receiving this kind of direct attention, even if he sometimes drew more of it than he wished. He remembered the 'whispers' of earlier today. Older folks could be pretty blunt when they wanted to be.
"There's no trouble. I've been traveling is all," he answered, looking down. "Things are tight, so I have to make the most out of what I have. There's a certain place I have to get to and it's been a long journey getting there." Ryoga tried to hide his flush as he continued. "I'm not usually like this."
The man nodded.
Ryoga decided to ask. "How far away are we from that hardware store you mentioned?"
"It's not too far now. We'll get there soon."
Ryoga nodded his head. Soon was good. Then, an idea hit him. He was talking to a local. It would be as good a time as any to get some help, or at the very least ask for it.
"Say," he began, "you wouldn't happen to have any idea where we are right now, would you?"
Tamaru glanced at him out the corner of his eye. "Course I do. We're in the Toshima ward, near Mejiro-dori."
Ryoga thought of those names. Mejiro-dori. Toshima. He dug into his pack and quickly produced his crumpled up map, scanning its contents for what he hoped, what he prayed would be-
There! It-It's really there! He closed his eyes for a few seconds and reopened them. Ahhh! It's still there! Ryoga choked down a cry for joy as his muscles anxiously twitched about.
Tamaru slowed down and watched bewilderedly as Ryoga halted and turned to him with an unhinged, toothy expression.
"M-Mejiro-dori-" He gulped. "-i-i-isn't that far away from the Nerima ward, right?"
They stared at one another.
"…It's a little less than an hour's walk. I mean, if you're really movin'. Why?"
He didn't answer the man. Instead, Ryoga jumped and grabbed Tamaru's shoulders. He didn't realize how much force he was putting into his grip. Not even Tamaru's anguished expression of pain or cries of "leggo!" were enough to shake his excitement. And how could it? Ryoga was practically there!
The older man stumbled back under the intensity of the boy. He was starting to think the kid might be trouble after all. He gathered himself only to be met with Ryoga's pleading eyes.
"Can…can you take me there?" Ryoga asked nervously. "Now, maybe? I'll make sure to repair your fence, but I want to get there as soon as possible!" With Tamaru leading him, that would greatly reduce his chances of getting lost along the way. That wasn't too strange a thing to request, right? He hated the idea of dragging other people into this, but he couldn't miss this opportunity!
"Why would I go an' do a darned thing like that for? That's an hour outta the way."
…Or maybe he would.
Ryoga got closer. "You don't understand, Mr. Mutsu. If I don't get there right away then…then…"
"Then what?" the man asked, perplexed by the boy's odd behavior.
Ryoga felt all his excitement drain from him. He freed Tamaru and stepped back, clutching his fists tightly and glaring at the ground, a dark shadow overtaking his features. "…Then it might be too late."
There was no getting out of it now. Mr. Mutsu needed to grasp the importance of his plight so he'd be allowed to leave.
"There's…this person…that I know, that I've spent years trying to find again. For so long, I've felt like the only thing on my mind was them and what I'd do when we met face-to-face… Every time before now, when I thought I'd gotten closer to them…I just..!" Dammit, I'm making myself sound pathetic! He doesn't need to know how bad my sense of direction is. "Every time I've thought, 'now's my chance', the moment passes me by and slips right through my fingertips…"
Ryoga snapped his head up at Tamaru, his eyes burning with determination, daring the man to gaze away from his resolve. "But today's different! The town over, that's where I need to be! So do you get it now? It's vital that I- Huh?"
The lost boy was surprised to see Tamaru grin a mischievous grin his way. What was that about? He expected to see a look of sympathy from hearing his story, not this smug smirk in front of him. Ryoga bitterly wondered if he was being mocked somehow.
"An' here I woulda figured you were too serious for that kinda thing. Y'all got a flicker in ya yet, and from the sound of it, burnin' hot."
"Wha? I don't… I'm not sure I follow." Ryoga said, confused.
"Oooohh, I thinks ya follow plenty. Maybe you're second guessin' for how much you done spilled on yourself now."
"What are you on about?"
"No need to be shy with me, sonny. I hear you loud n' clear," Tamaru said with a knowing look.
"You do?"
"Yep. You, you're whole predicament… Hide it how you might, I see it clear as a summer's day."
"I wonder about that…"
The man shooed at him playfully. "Believe me, I remember when I was that young. Couple of 'em got away from me, too, if you believe it." Tamaru reached up and snaked an arm around the boy's shoulders. "It woulda saved me a lotta trouble knowin' when to let some of them go," he spoke seriously. "They're other fish in the sea an' all that. Not that I regret my younger years…"
"What does any of that have to do with-"
"… And I ain't tryin' to rain on your parade, or tell you not to go dame chasin'… No. You wanna go runnin' 'round all over creation for your long lost love? Do it. But on your own time, hear?" He finished by jabbing a finger in Ryoga's face.
Wait, does he think I'm… With Ranma?!
Ryoga wrestled out of his grip and smacked the man's hand away. Ew! Gross! He felt dirty just hearing that. Disgusted, even if the man had no clue, that he had even gone and suggested such a thing. Clearly, his intent had been misunderstood.
"Listen, it's not like that. That person I'm searching for is a guy." Ryoga told him.
Tamaru looked taken aback for a moment, but slowly recovered. Silently, he reached in with one hand and awkwardly patted Ryoga on the shoulder. "…We all got our quirks. That's twice you done surprised me now. Wouldna guessed you were dancin' on the other end of the room."
"No! It's not like that either!" Ryoga snapped.
Tamaru shushed him, looking away. "Say no more, sonny. Look, I don't mean you no trouble. I'm hip, I'm cool. Whatcha do in y'all's personal life is your business."
The boy hung his head in exasperation. "No… You don't get it. I'm not out looking for anyone so I can…date them…or whatever," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm looking for this person so I can settle a score!" Could this day get any worse?
"A grudge, you say?" Tamaru said, sounding interested.
"Yes."
Tamaru blew a raspberry and made a dismissive hand gesture. "Don't bother with it, then. Things like that are more trouble than they're worth. Trust me."
"And what do you know?" This guy was brushing him off.
"I know you look a mess," he observed critically, pointing at his clothing stitches. "A couple a' years, you say? What'd this guy do to get you all riled up?"
Ryoga balled his fists. His eyes wedged tightly shut. "He skipped out on our fight."
"Your fight?"
"Yes."
"And what were y'all fightin' for?"
Ryoga inhaled. "He stole. My bread."
"Your bread?" Tamaru asked, incredulously.
Ryoga nodded. "Every single day during lunch when I was in middle school."
A breeze ran between them.
Tamaru rose and searched Ryoga's eyes. His sincere, earnest, genuine, anger-filled eyes…
He put a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. "Well, I'll be. You're the real deal."
…And fell to pieces.
Ryoga scowled, his face twitching in anger as he watched Tamaru try, and fail, to keep from laughing at him. Tamaru didn't understand. Nobody understood. Nobody could. Only he knew the extent of the horrors he had suffered as a result of Ranma's actions. Ryoga didn't know why he had even bothered. It was a mistake to follow this man out here.
Amongst Tamaru's fit of laughter, Ryoga heard another sound. A dreaded sound. One he had come to despise these last few weeks. That sound was a countdown to misfortune, a warning, which told him he needed to escape now or face its wrath.
Thunder; which could only signal the storm that would surely come.
"Whew." Tamaru wiped his eyes. "Mr. Hibiki, you are something else, y'know that?" Not hearing a response, he looked to see what had caught the teenager's attention. The older man could spot thunderclouds in the distance and knew it was time to get what they needed. "Whelp, rain'll be comin' down soon." He chuckled lightly. "You may end up savin' me with that umbrella a' yours. But let's not wait for that. Better get a move on while we still-"
"I have to go."
Tamaru spun around. "What?" But his companion didn't look at him, didn't seem like he had even heard himself. He simply stared at the clouds, trembling, a look of worry etched onto his face.
Ryoga's mind was racing to decide what to do. He needed to find shelter, but he was less than an hour away. He knew he shouldn't rush things, but what would he do if the streets were bare after the rain stopped? He'd be stuck on his own and he knew how well that would turn out. He shook his head, his mind made up. With or without Mr. Mutsu's help, he would get to Nerima. If it came down to it, he always had his umbrella. He could do this. He held onto that belief and shot further down the road.
"Wait! Don't run out on me, sonny. Y'all still gotta repair my fence!"
Ryoga whirled over and threw some coins and paper yen at the man. How much? He didn't know. Didn't care either. Couldn't care, didn't have time to. He needed to go.
Now.
"I'mreallysorrybutIcan'tstay!" Ryoga yelled in a rush, already halfway down the road.
Tamaru stared at the boy's retreating form for a few moments before bending down to pick up the change and bills that had been chucked at him. "Ryoga Hibiki…" he whispered. "That kid's a strange one."
Thunder bellowed and rainwater continued to pelt violently down upon the city below, blanketing everything beneath. Things were fine for a while, more than fine. It was a little cloudy, yeah, but the sun was still out. Then it struck without warning, and in an instant, his clothes suddenly didn't fit him anymore.
"I can't believe I got caught up in the rain!" she groaned. Nobody was around to see her when she changed, so she didn't have to worry about any questions. Not that she would've stuck around to answer any in the first place.
Water splashed about, her feet treading the ground as she tried to seek shelter. She didn't even know why she was sprinting so quickly anymore. She was already wet. But if she did slow down, her clothes would no doubt end up utterly drenched. Haven't I had my fill of water for one day? She ran faster.
Ranma flung open the door to someplace. What place? She didn't know. She was pissed and wet and hungry and had no idea if she was anywhere close to where that man had mentioned.
She tapped her feet out on the mat at the entrance, letting loose droplets fling from her legs. She did the same with her hair, shaking it until most of the water left her crimson locks. She could still feel liquid trickling down her face, but it was better than before. Her clothes didn't get too wet, to her surprise.
Thankfully, the A/C wasn't running very high in the place. In fact, it was pretty warm in here. Cozy, even. Good for her. The universe would have to try harder to get Ranma Saotome sick. Hopefully, she could dry off while she was here.
Ranma checked her surroundings. It was pretty spacious inside for how small it looked out front. There were a few tables seated out and a few booths lining the walls. This place looked casual. There were even a couple of people around her age sitting down and eating. A hangout spot to some, maybe.
She looked at the person in the hat manning the register. He looked young, a couple of years older than her. He had just finished taking someone else's order when she walked up to the counter.
"Uh, you serve food here?" Stupid question. She had meant to ask what food they serve here. He didn't seem to catch her verbal blunder, however. His attention seemed to be torn between refilling change and discovering what secrets laid in her wet shirt. He caught himself before she asked again.
"Y-Yeah, just opened a few hours ago. Menu's up there," he told her, and he directed Ranma's attention to the assortment of images and prices decorating the wall behind him.
Ranma blinked.
Come to think of it, how much did she have to spend anyway? She never planned on this little outing, but she had felt something in her pockets when she was walking. Last time I wore these pants, Pops and I had visited some dinky little shop somewhere. I'm pretty sure I bought something when I was there. I should still have some cash on me... She pulled money out.
Two five yen coins and an IOU signed, 'Genma Saotome'.
The coins trembled in her palm as she shook in silent rage.
"Excuse me, miss?"
Resisting the urge to cringe at being called 'miss', Ranma raised her head to him and put on the most pleasant fake smile she could manage.
"I... Is there anything you can get me for..." She shyly held up, "...ten yen?"
"A cup of water."
Ranma could have fallen over that exact moment if she hadn't sensed someone walking up behind her just then.
"I'll cover your meal."
"Huh?" She turned around. Why?
A guy much taller than her had appeared right behind her. Ranma sullenly remembered that it didn't take much to be taller than her as she was. Heck, Akane was probably taller than her in her current form. Why did she have to be so short? She could probably match the guy behind at her in height if she weren't a girl right now.
Wait, wasn't he sitting down earlier? She could've sworn she saw him finished eating at a table when she walked in.
"Order anything you want from the menu. It'll be my treat," he said, smiling pearly whites.
He looked like the kind of guy that spent too much time in the mirror grooming his hair; the kind of guy that most girls would probably find attractive in a teenage crush sort of way. His hair was slicked back. Grease, she guessed. She supposed it was in style, supposed to make him look cool. To her, it kind of just seemed like a big gust of wind hit his head and he didn't bother to fix it.
But who cared about how he looked? A meal's a meal, even better when it's free.
"Really?" Ranma asked, grateful. She started genuinely smiling a little. This town's got pretty cool people in it. I know I wouldn't have gotten up to bail out some complete stranger.
"Totally," he beamed back at her. "Being out in that rain must've sucked. A girl like you could definitely stand to catch a break." At that, Ranma budding smile faded.
It was then that she realized why he even bothered in the first place.
He walked over to help her because she was a girl.
He was talking to her now, smiling flirtatiously, she picked up, because she was a girl.
Because I'm a girl.
Oh.
Ohhhhhhhhhh! Ranma's mental process short-circuited. She couldn't believe what was happening. No, that wasn't it. She could. But she couldn't. She didn't want to comprehend it. But instinctively, she knew, and was filled with a sudden and intense dread and disgust. There's no way… And… And he was still smiling at her! At him! Why was he looking at her like that? Look away!
This can't be happening, she thought in horror. I-I'm not… I'm a guy! A guy! I'm a guy and...and this bozo's tryin' to pick me up! She had briefly seen the gaze the one at the register had given her, but no one, no one had actually acted on it towards her before. He didn't so much as say it, but she knew. She could tell. She had seen that look before. She was being approached. Approached. For dates. From guys. Guys! Who told them to do that? Sh-he didn't! He's a guy!
All of this was too much for her. Ranma looked away, her eyes darting anywhere but on him, landing at a couple seated.
No way.
The guy eating with the girl on the other end of the table was tossing the redhead glances here and there. This was really happening. Happening right before her. In front of her very eyes. It was…
He was trying to be slick about it, but she noticed. Maybe he didn't know she noticed, but she noticed. She noticed. She…
Maybe he didn't want her to know, or the girl across from him, if that was his girlfriend. It could be his sister for all Ranma knew, but she knew what she saw. She noticed. She noticed earlier, too. That register guy noticed. The guy… The guy asking… He…
Ranma brought herself back and gave a quick assessment of her appearance.
Short: guys typically liked that sort of thing.
Red hair: exotic, vibrant, really stood out among others.
Baby blues: because who didn't like blue eyes?
Blessed hips: not too wide, not too slim.
Healthy bottom: nothing outrageous, but firm, even in baggy pants.
Busty chest: that was almost a bit much for her frame and height.
Annnnnd she was wet at the moment. Literally dripping with sex appeal.
She was the whole package.
I'm hot, she thought, not for the first time, because how could it be for the first time? Come on. She was Ranma Saotome, and Ranma Saotome was simply a feast for the eyes - no if, ands, or buts about it. But this was different. She was hot for entirely different reasons altogether now. Gone were her boyish good looks and lean, muscular physique. Instead, they had been replaced by softer, gentler features and…other things.
But she wasn't gentle. She wasn't delicate. She wasn't dainty. And she wasn't a girl. She wasn't…
Ranma had boasted being hot stuff last night to Akane, in part to tick her off, but also because it was just facts (and funny). She was better built. But now…getting all this attention because of it, proving that she had been right all along…
Okay, Ranma couldn't help but give a tiny ghost of a smile at that tidbit of knowledge.
She had gotten a couple of looks from some guys in villages they passed through after their fall in Jusenkyo, and while on the run, but the men in those places tended to be more on the older side. Geezers like them who were on their way out would gawk at anything on two legs. But this, this was a whole other state of affairs. This was the big city. These were young men her age that had loose wallets and liked to talk big.
And if Ranma wanted, she could milk them for all they're worth.
She blinked.
But why should she? No, she knew why she should. She should use this to her advantage to get some free stuff, duh. She wasn't stupid. But should she, should she.
Ranma checked out Romeo again. She hadn't given him any sort of response, so she could tell he was sweating, wonder if he'd messed up. He, thinking she's a real girl, probably figured his 'smooth' intervention would be enough for her to go running off into his arms or something. Blech. Was that really his angle? She could see it in his eyes that this was just an opening to fetch a date or something out from her.
And he thinks I'll go along with his plan? Ranma Saotome? She could've laughed if this wasn't so weird, raged if she wasn't so perfectly disturbed. Was she supposed to be so grateful that she'd lose herself over him for some dime-a-dozen restaurant foods? This whole situation was all kinds of unnatural, but she was hungry.
Man, do I really want to play the part? Yip and give this jerk puppy dog eyes while he stacks my table full of treats? While I have this dumb curse, I should use any trick I got, but I ain't some ditzy, airheaded girl. I'm still a guy, dammit, and-
Ranma glanced up at the menu.
…Ohhh man, that stir-fried fish cake sure looks good. And with some takoyaki to go alongside it... I wonder what else they got.
Ranma looked near the prices.
600 yen?!
"So, uh…whaddya say, ah?"
She leapt up. "O-Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You've really helped me out here. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up. You're a lifesaver~!" Ranma beamed, giggling cutely. She hoped this would work. Otherwise, she would have humiliated herself over nothing.
The guy seemed a little surprised at her abrupt shift in attitude from downhearted and dismal to sunshine and smiles, but he recovered quickly.
"D-Don't mention it. It wouldn't be right to just sit around while a girl as cute as you went hungry." Oh, and a flatterer now, too. Someone's feeling bold, aren't they?
Ranma got nearer, hovering near the arm of his nice looking jacket, and appraised the menu with more focus, withstanding the nauseating sensation she felt when he scooched closer. "Now, let's see what I want..."
"Order anything, I got you covered," he encouraged.
Ranma giggled. "If you say so," she smiled back. Sucker.
Another strong gust of wind collided against the small piglet's face as he stumbled back again. Try as he might to gain enough leverage and reposition himself more securely, it wasn't happening. The roads had become too slippery with all the rainwater coating them, and the wind simply would not let up.
The kind of aggressive whether he was caught in could prove dangerous to any animal so small. And with a storm as powerful as this one was proving to be, it would take every ounce of strength not to get blown away by the sheer force of it all.
Wet papers flopped haphazardly around as aluminum cans were tossed down the road, sent sailing from the pressure of the air. The animal's scarf-like bandanna whipped about wildly from his neck as he wondered how long it would be before he ended up like those recyclables.
He had managed to keep hold pretty long, but he didn't think it would last. Nothing ever seemed to. Certainly not his luck.
Mist ricocheted off of the pavement and struck into the black animal's eyes, nearly causing him to lose grip. He closed them tightly.
A pothole, that's all he had. A tiny dent, smaller than the toe of a shoe, was all that was left to hold onto dear life for.
The umbrella that had been sheltering him from this disaster was long gone, the traveling pack he wrestled with earlier had vanished, and the loose, empty clothes had almost suffocated him.
Ryoga Hibiki was in a tough spot, a shaky situation.
And he knew in his heart of hearts, without a shadow of doubt...
That it was all Ranma's fault.
Ranma, who stole his bread and pushed his buttons repeatedly, without mercy or remorse.
Ranma, who he challenged to a fight in an effort to reclaim his dignity.
Ranma, who skipped town and left him standing in a vacant lot, foolish and alone.
Ranma, who he searched all over the country for, despite his shortcomings.
Ranma, who he followed all the way to China only to wind up cursed and nearly a man's meal.
Ranma, who was probably living a comfortable life surrounded by friends and family while he suffered by himself in the howling rain.
Ranma was to blame for the hell he had suffered through the last few years.
And as a projectile hit him, and his tiny hooves lost grip, and he got sent rolling backwards under the might of a storm he simply could not hope to stand up to, he believed that then, too.
Oh, he believed.
Ryoga crashed into a canal in a spiral and began sinking so quickly he could've sworn he was being pulled under. Was this always here?! I thought it was further up the road! I've been pushed back this far?! I had to be doing better than that! How can I be so pathetic?!
And then it all stopped.
Any of his complaints, his self-loathing, his heart - everything came to a stretching halt when he realized, fully comprehended, the immense gravity of the situation.
He was underwater in pig form.
Ryoga began wildly swinging his limps every which way he could.
Dark. It was getting dark. Darker than the sky past the water. He couldn't see. His eyes stung! Why? No. No, he needed to see what was happening!
Calm down!
Beside him. He looked. Did something hit him? Why did his gut suddenly hurt so much? The pressure! All the water was on top of him. It was beside him. Everywhere. Under him. He was getting closer. Closer to whatever was below. What people couldn't see with all the water in the way. He couldn't be seen, wouldn't be seen again!
Calm down!
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all! He couldn't do anything. His hands. Didn't have them. Hooves. Can't use them. Can't cup the water and go forward like he should, like he knows he can! But he can't. Can't do it. Can't do anything. Can't do anything. Why wasn't he moving up? He needed to go up!
Calm down, now!
Ryoga wedged his eyes shut with enough force that it made the rest of his face hurt, and fought to ignore his reflexive urge to breathe. If he did that… Nothing. It would all be over and Ryoga would only have himself to blame for it.
He quit moving so feverishly and tired as best he could to loosen up, to relax like his life depended on it. Because it did. He needed to get himself out of this. He needed to survive.
Not soon after, he found himself beginning to rise to the surface. He gave little pushes to speed things along, but he didn't dare move with the panicked desperation he was caught in just moments ago.
He was a martial artist. He's better than that, he told himself.
Ranma carefully jogged through the streets in the shower. Carefully - because she didn't want to risk dropping any of her goodies, all packed up and neatly tucked away in a take-out box, a memento of her time spent with whatshisface.
That guy really knew how to treat a 'lady'. He bought her seconds, thirds, a number and some snacks after that. The food was nice. He talked, she ate; a very well done not-a-date in her humble opinion.
He started looking a bit pale towards the end there. Ranma was pretty sure his hand flinched back when it touched his wallet that last round. He told her that he never met a girl who could eat as much as she could. Ranma smiled and told him, "Us girls are powered on perfume, pedicures, and pork!"
It sounded legit. Must have. Because he just kept the food coming. It wasn't like she twisted his arm or anything. He instructed her very generously to choose to her heart's content and, well, she had a big heart. And it's because she had a big heart that she decided to leave once she felt sufficiently full.
He seemed like an alright guy from what little Ranma could garner, if a bit of whiner. During the brief instances where she actually paid him any mind, he sometimes seemed to be complaining about his parents. It may not have been what she wanted to hear (personally, she wanted him to shut up and let her eat), but he seemed more genuine on that topic than others, and he tended not to ask so much for her input or cheerleading.
Ranma sighed.
She still wasn't sure whether or not she regretted doing what she did back at the restaurant, especially when she considered the possibilities. Giving something like that another go in the future would certainly help her save money, but the whole experience left her feeling wronged in so many ways imaginable. And how wouldn't it? By all outward appearances, she'd just gone on a…on a date with a guy. A guy! Well, not for real, real, but…
She was glad he hadn't been serious or anything. He had just spoken to her randomly, on a whim. She was… Well, she looked like a girl right now, and so he…
It could've been anyone. That made Ranma feel better about it all, or at least less uneasy.
And so, she bid him ado and went about her way, telling him she had a great time, and saving the leftovers for later. He asked if they could meet up later sometime. Ranma told him in tears that she was to become a foreign exchange student in Iowa. Ah, it wasn't meant to be.
Ranma wiped her face again as she neared the end of the road. She hadn't expected it to rain at all today and there went a storm. Things had calmed down some, particularly the wind, but it might've been better for her if she had stayed back at the restaurant.
Then again, she could do without whatshisface making googly eyes at her in-between hyping up how cool he was. Ranma decided to look around for shelter.
She slowed down when her ears picked up something amidst all the sounds of rain pelting nearby objects. It sounded like…someone crying? No... Higher? Distorted? It might be an animal. If it was, it sounded terrified. Whatever the case, Ranma decided to go investigate. It didn't sound too far away.
The tiny black piglet's body lurched as Ryoga hacked up another round of water from his windpipe, nearly dipping under with every heave his body took. It was getting progressively more difficult to keep his head afloat. He needed more strength than he had right now, and what little he was exerting was dipping into his reserves.
This couldn't go on much longer.
Another wave knocked into him, hurling him towards the wall of the canal. The impact made him to exhale sharply, ridding him of what little air he had right before he was taken under. Ryoga struggled and managed to get his head above water, desperately scrapping at the edges of the wall to try and hold root of something, anything, just for the tide to sweep him beneath its watery blanket once again, right back where he started.
Ryoga uselessly gave one more swipe of his arm before falling under. No one could hear him. He was incapable of calling for help. He couldn't even curse at his own worthless efforts. Now, drifting back underwater, it was like he hadn't even moved at all.
This was it. He was going to die.
All that he had persevered through and survived meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. Zilch.
It was all for nothing. Everything. Everything had been pointless.
He never accomplished his goal. Never did any of it. All pointless.
So in the end, nothing Ryoga did had ever mattered.
Everything was wet now. Things weren't supposed to be this way.
He was so useless.
All the colors of his world were disappearing. Everything was closing in, turning black.
Noises, sounds… They were all becoming faint echoes that resounded into nothingness…
"Hey, something is down there!"
What was that?
A voice?
Someone was with him?
No. That didn't make any sense. It was a trick, an illusion. It must have been.
Nobody was here. Just himself.
Himself.
Right. That's completely right. So right, he could've laughed.
Himself, as it always was. Himself, as it's always had been. Himself, as it always would be.
He had always lived by himself.
Now, he would die by himself.
It made sense. That's just the way things were. He couldn't change that.
All he could do was wait for it to be over…
But something deep within him stirred.
"How do I get this thing kickin' again?"
He didn't want to give up.
He was scared.
He didn't want things to end this way.
He didn't want to drown at the bottom of some canal.
He didn't want to remain trapped in a pig's body forever.
He didn't want to fade away and never be thought of again.
"C'mon, wake up already. Did it already croak?"
He didn't want to be alone...
And then, as quickly as it had begun, it ended. Light was returning. He could feel himself out of the water. He was on land.
He was weak, but alive. He lurched forward as much as his body would allow. Delicate fingers that had been pressed against him were removed.
Water erupted from his mouth, and he coughed, greedily tasting air once more.
He stopped squirming. For some reason, he felt that he would make it this time. He was safe.
He opened his eyes and gazed up at the person who had saved him.
She was an attractive girl. A pretty girl. She had a round face, and soft features. She was cute. No, that wasn't right. She was possibly the most beautiful girl Ryoga had ever laid eyes upon.
She hovered, looking over him with sky-blue eyes and cherry-red hair that he just couldn't tear his gaze away from. Which was fine. He didn't want to. Let him stare.
She smiled at him.
Ranma stood, arms crossed under the overhead of an old store that would never open, watching the water trickle down. This is really going to become an issue, isn't it? She scowled as she thought up a solution. I know I don't wanna deal with having to tote around an umbrella… She tilted her head and creased her eyebrows. Let's see… How about…I pick me up a thermos and fill it with hot water? That way even when I do change, I got a handy way of getting back to normal.
She groaned and squatted down, tucking her arms under the front of her legs and resting her chin in the valley of her knees. I really don't wanna be dodging water like I'm the Wicked Witch of the West. Ranma looked over at her companion. It was sitting down and watching the shower with an expression far too somber to be plastered on a pig's face. Even if said pig had almost bought the farm. It better be thankful she happened to be passing by when she did. It was by chance she heard it in the canal. She had almost ignored the sound the first time she picked it up; the pig being carried down the stream.
Its stomach growled. She sighed.
Ranma reached over and pulled her leftovers to her. The bag and styrofoam should have protected against the rain while she was fishing out the piglet.
She opened the first container, catching the pig's attention. That box had some pork in it. Ranma paused. It would probably be pretty messed up if she fed that to the thing, wouldn't it? She furrowed her brows and moved on to the second container. That was the one with her stir-fry. No pork mixed in, but that didn't stop her from frowning. She was really looking forward to eating that later…but she guessed she could spare some of it.
Ranma guided a little of it out onto the ground with her hand, causing the pig's eyes to widen. It glanced at her before standing up.
"You're hungry, right? Go ahead. I won't hurt ya," she eased.
Without wasting any time, it went to work on finishing off the bit she had left for it to eat. She wobbled herself around with her feet to watch the tiny piglet pigging out. She chuckled at her lame joke.
"I don't see any collar on you, but I don't figure pigs just up and start wearing bandannas like that, so you must belong to somebody around here." The animal squealed at her. Thanks for the food? Or something else. It didn't matter.
Ranma got up, looking out onto the barren street and then back at the animal.
"Well, I'm off. Try and stay away from those canals if you know what's good for you," she warned, before dashing away, bags in hand.
Never once in the clouded darkness did she notice or question the faint blush on the piglet's face.
AN: Don't expect me to double up on chapter posts often. I just felt that, as an intro, these two worked better together.