[RANMA] - [ANGST][DARK][LANGUAGE][VIOLENCE]
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And It Was Full Of Stars
Part I
3rd Draft (FFML) Version 0.3
A Ranma 1/2 Fan-Fiction
-= By Gendou Knepper =-
Ranma 1/2 characters & situations created and copyright by:
Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan/Kitty/Fuji/Viz/etc.
Other copyrights are owned by the respective copyright owners.
All copywritten material is used without permission.
All other material is (c)2000 Gendou Knepper
http://www.gendou.net/
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.oO Prologue Oo.
Be careful what you wish for. We've all heard it. We've all been warned
at one time or another to watch our wishes. You might think, 'How bad could a
wish be?' Well, for example, you might innocently wish for a day in the park.
Parks are normally considered to be peaceful places. Places where
children can run and play under the benevolent eyes of their guardians. Places
of picnics and parties, where people can be free to sing and read, walk and
talk, live and love.
Unfortunately, not all parks are peaceful.
For instance, Avon Park is a military bombing range.
Central Park in New York City is sometimes considered to be one of the most
dangerous places to be.
Gorky Park in Moscow is crime-ridden and polluted.
And Riverside Park in Nerima is a battlefield for the panoply of martial-artists
who make their homes in the district.
There, even now, people are scrambling out of the way of the two young men
who are fighting each other, while others are simply jockeying for a better view
of the proceedings.
"Die, Saotome," snarled Mousse, unleashing a mind-boggling array of bladed
weaponry from within the confines of his robe. Ranma dodged nimbly to one side,
snagging one of the chains with his hand as he went.
"C'mon, duck-boy, whaddid I do this time? I haven't even seen Shampoo all
day!" Ranma yanked on the chain as he spoke, pulling Mousse off-balance for a
moment.
"Exactly! You hurt Shampoo's feelings by not visiting her! For that you
must DIE!!!" Mousse ground his teeth together and swung his arms back,
attempting to recover the chain. Unfortunately, Ranma had already released his
grip on it. With nothing to pull against, Mousse flew backwards, landing with a
splash in the fountain. The transformation was near-instantaneous.
"Quack quack quack quack," he muttered, struggling to free himself from
his water-logged robes. He'd lost his glasses in the transformation too, so now
everything was just a big blur. He escaped from the robes and leaped from the
fountain, hissing. "Quackquackquack!" Mu-Mu spat, unveiling a barrage of knives
from under his wings. Suddenly, a blur moved toward him at an ungodly rate of
speed. He assumed it was Ranma. He assumed wrong.
"Nihao, Ranma!" Shampoo cried cheerily from her delivery bicycle, not even
pausing as she rode over Mu-Mu. He lay there on his back, barely feeling the
pain in his small body where the bike had cruelly ground him into the dirt. He
vaguely heard Ranma trying to get away from Shampoo as she tried to feed him
dim-sum and ramen. All he saw was a bright, bright blur, slowly fading to
black. As the last light faded from his eyes, he thought:
"I wish I could see clearly."
Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.
-=[ Awakenings I - A Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction ]=-
*(By Gendou Knepper)*
.oO Part 1 Oo.
*'Ceiling tiles. Odd. I've never noticed them before.'*
Such were my first thoughts upon awakening that fateful morning. I hadn't
realized yet just how changed I was, but I knew even then that my eyes had been
opened. I brushed the back of my hand across my face and shook my head.
Sitting up, I reached for my glasses. As I started to put them on, something in
my mind clicked. I dropped my glasses back on the end table and glanced back up
at the ceiling.
*'Tiles. I can see the tiles. I can SEE the tiles!'*
I gasped aloud. This was new. I looked at the door across the room. I
could see the door. And the doorknob. I jumped out of bed, bounded to the
door and flung it open. I could see down the hall. This was definitely new. I
could see! I could see! I raced down the hall to the stairs and bounced down,
taking them two at a time. I leaped over the counter, vaulted two tables and
threw the doors open.
The sun was just peeking over the rooftops of the town, where a few low-
lying clouds were burning off. It looked to be a beautiful day. I looked up
one side of the street and down the other. I could see for blocks, and it felt
like I could see for miles. I knew I must looked crazed, standing there in my
nightshirt and boxers, grinning like a madman and pointing at the birds that
winged by overhead. I turned and looked up at the sign above me.
*'Nekohanten,'* I thought.
I rubbed my eyes, making sure that my eyes were actually reading without
the aid of my glasses. They were. I threw my head back and began to laugh;
maniacally, I'm sure, but I just couldn't stop. I could see! I was still
laughing when my newly-restored vision exploded into stars. A massive wave of
pain washed over me as my vision blurred out.
"No! My eyes!" I shrieked. I closed my eyes against the pain and
collapsed to my knees in front of the restaurant. I felt the cold cement grind
into my palms as I twisted my hands on the sidewalk. The sharpest pain passed
suddenly, resolving into a throbbing in the back of my skull. I was afraid to
open my eyes, afraid to prove that my new vision was just a temporary thing.
Slowly, painfully, I forced my eyes open. The grey blur of concrete met my
eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut again, damning fate and whatever gods had stolen
my sight after so short a time. I stood slowly, shaking my head to clear it.
As the pain faded, I opened my eyes again. A purple blur greeted me this time,
but it rapidly resolved into a shape. Hair. Purple hair. Xian-Pu. She was
glaring at me, a scowl marring her beautiful features.
"Stupid Msu-Tsu," she snapped in Mandarin, "Quit acting foolishly.
Come inside and start cleaning. We open soon, and great-grandmother will be
very angry with you if you aren't ready."
I blinked at her for a second, still getting used to my new-and-improved
vision. I glanced at the bon-bori in her hand and realized she must have just
smacked me in the back of the head with it. When I didn't respond any further,
she moved to strike me again. As her arm swung back, I started to cringe, my
usual response to physical abuse from Shampoo. But then, I suddenly realized
just how idiotic all of this was. She was going to hit me. Hard. Just for
standing outside. I was amazed at her actions, then outraged. As she swung her
arm forward, I caught her arm and held it, firmly.
"No," I whispered in Japanese. "Never again, Shampoo. Never again strike
me in anger. It isn't right. You're better than this."
Shampoo, for her part, was completely shocked, which, I believe now, saved
me from a full body cast and traction. I pushed past her and walked slowly into
the restaurant.
"Msu-Tsu, what is going on out there?" Cologne glanced up from the
kitchen counter where she was preparing for the first customers of the day. I
noticed a small pot set aside, undoubtedly for some unholy creation she was
planning to get Shampoo to feed to Saotome. Saotome. Ranma. The name didn't
bring the usual insane anger it usually did. I glanced at the old woman as I
started up the stairs toward my room. "Mousse," she shouted, switching to
Japanese, "come back here and answer me, boy!" I ignored her, slamming the door
to my room.
My door had no lock, at least not one on the inside, so I pushed my bed in
front of it, situating it firmly against the door. Only then did I make my way
to the closet. Opening it, I examined my clothing choices. Unfortunately,
there wasn't much to choose from.
*'Robes. Lots and lots of white robes.'* Somehow, wearing robes for
everyday wear didn't quite seem appropriate anymore. I pawed through them until
I came to the back of the closet. There I found a white shirt and black pants,
remnants of Ranma and Akane's ruined wedding. I had had them laundered to get
the tempura flakes and sulfur smell out and hadn't looked at them since. I
gathered them up quickly, not wanting to spend another minute in the Nekohanten
that I didn't have to. I wasn't sure why I felt this way, but I wasn't in the
mood to argue with my feelings on the matter.
I pulled the bed away from the door and opened it slowly. Nothing. I
glanced into the hall. I could hear rattling downstairs in the kitchen.
Cologne, undoubtedly. She usually cooked and let Shampoo play waitress.
Business was always better when a perky young woman was serving the food than
when a shriveled old hag bounced about on her stick. All depends on the type of
bounce, I realized.
I started down the hall toward the bathroom. I checked the floor in front
of the door. No slippers. I set mine outside the door and stepped inside. I
showered and shaved, brushed and flossed my teeth and combed out my long hair.
Realizing that it would probably get in my way, I bound it back in ponytail.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Wearing a shirt and pants, with my hair
back, without glasses, I barely recognized myself. I grinned. I opened the
bathroom door and slipped into my house slippers. I traded them for outside
shoes at the landing, then moved downstairs to the restaurant proper.
Shampoo was wiping off a table in the center of the restaurant, while
Cologne pogo-ed about the kitchen on her walking stick. Hearing me come down
the stairs, Shampoo looked up. She met my gaze steadily, but said nothing. I
smiled politely and started for the door, hoping to avoid the fallout from my
earlier behavior. Better to hope for the sun to rise over the western horizon.
"Mousse, where are you going?" inquired Cologne, rather sweetly. Uh-oh.
She was being polite. I had better watch myself.
"Out," I replied warily.
"Really. We open in less than an hour and you've done no work this
morning," she said. Her tone held a warning.
"I'm taking the morning off," I said matter-of-factly, my tone far lighter
than I felt.
"Sorry, boy. No breaks this morning. Shampoo is running a delivery to
the high school this morning, and I need you to wait tables." I winced inwardly
at the steel in her tone. It brooked no argument. As I mentally scrambled for
a way to get out of work, all the pieces fell together at once. I had a plan.
I smiled inwardly and stepped toward Cologne.
"Let me deliver the package to the school. That's where I'm going
anyway," I responded, smiling. "I'm signing up for classes there." At
Cologne's raised eyebrow, I hurried on. "My alien work visa requires I attend
school anyway, and I need to complete my education." Cologne stared at me,
something like . . . understanding? No! It must be shock . . . dawning in her
eyes. She nodded once, rather curtly. Reaching behind the counter, she quickly
tossed me a bundle. I caught it deftly. She smiled slightly.
"Your vision's improved, boy," she said. I returned her slight smile and
turned to leave. Shampoo was still staring at me, confusion in her eyes. I
bowed low, at the waist.
"Have a nice day," I said, and was out the door without waiting for a
response.
.oO Part 2 Oo.
I moved quickly down the street toward Furinkan, taking in the sights all
around me. Everything was so bright and crisp and . . . visible, which is new
to me. As I turned in at the front gate, I heard a familiar sound. Tendou
Akane and Saotome Ranma, bickering over some slight, real or imagined. I stood
and watched them as they passed. They were so absorbed in arguing that they
didn't even look up as they passed by me. Everyone else gave them a wide berth
as they moved toward the doors. I frowned slightly, feeling my mood shift. Why
were they always arguing? Didn't they care for each other? So many lives
altered or ruined just so that they could be together, and they waste their time
trading petty insults. I felt my frustration level rising as I watched them
enter the building. I glanced at the clock on the front of the school. Still
20 minutes 'till first period. Plenty of time to sign up, I hoped.
Spending an inordinate amount of free time hanging around Furinkan trying
to pick a fight with Saotome had given me a knowledge of the class schedule for
the 1st and 2nd year students. It also allowed me to learn the layout of the
school.
One of the odd things about Furinkan High is its layout. Like most
Japanese high schools, Furinkan had three floors. At most high schools, the
first floor is for first year students, the second for second year, with the top
floor being reserved for the seniors. (High school only has three grade levels
in Japan) At Furinkan, though, the first year students have the top floor,
second year has the middle and the lower floor is the senior floor. Very
strange. It always kind of bugged me.
I headed straight for the principal's office. I hoped I wouldn't have to
deal with him. The madman would probably try to shave my head. I was in luck,
however. He was on another sabbatical to the Hawaiian Islands. I explained to
the school secretary that I was in Japan on a work visa, and I needed to sign up
for school here. After the usual runaround about the fall semester having
started two weeks ago, she agreed to proctor the entrance exam for me. It took
me about 30 minutes to complete the test, so I was already well into first
period when I finished up. She said she would grade it as soon as possible and
get back to me after lunch, but I was free to sit in on any of the classes I
chose until she had my schedule ready. I thanked her and left the office.
I walked down the hall, stopping by each door and listening to the
teacher, trying to decide which one to visit first. Japanese History . . . no.
Math . . uh, no thanks. English . . . maybe . . . wait, is that Miss Hin... oh
no, I definitely do not want that. Let's see . . . Economics . . . hm . . . why
not? I opened the door slowly. The teacher stopped for a moment and glanced at
me over her glasses. I smiled and nodded, moving toward the back of the class
without explanation.
"Excuse me, young man - may I help you?" The teacher wasn't going to let
the matter lie. As I looked back at her, I noticed that I had the attention of
the entire class. Not good. I despise speaking in public. Most Amazon men do.
Bravely, I tried to smile before responding.
"I, uhm . . hmm, I'm, uh, new here," I managed to stammer, "and the
secretary, uhm . . . she, erm, she said," I took a deep breath, ". . . said I
should sit in on some of the classes while she works out my schedule." I sighed,
relieved to have gotten everything out without stammering. The teacher nodded,
apparently satisfied with my answer. I quickly sat down in the back, relieved
she didn't make me introduce myself.
Glancing around the classroom, I recognized a few faces, but no-one I
really knew well. I sat back and listened to the teacher droning on about
various economic structures. I sighed. I knew economics. Well, I knew
practical economics, anyway. Heck, I had to keep the books at the Nekohanten.
Money matters were man's work. Women had more important things to worry about.
I wondered briefly if that was why Shampoo and Cologne held Tendou Nabiki in
such low regard. Well, there was probably more to it than just that. The
teacher was asking if anyone understood the basic principle behind capitalism.
I'll just bet that Tendou Nabiki passed this class with flying colours. I
grinned to myself. The rest of the class period seemed to fly by. Soon, the
bell rang, signaling the students to move on to the next class.
As I stepped out of the classroom, I watched the faces of the other
students for some sign of recognition. Nothing. Just as well, I suppose. As I
headed back toward the principal's office, I saw Tendou Nabiki and her minions
head outside. As they moved toward the front doors, many of the students
swarming the hallways moved to follow. I glanced down the hall toward the
principal's office. I did have another class period before first lunch, and I
was curious to see what was going on outside. As I stepped toward the door, I
heard a shout.
"Tendou Akane, I will rescue you from the foul sorcerer Saotome!"
Kunou. Of course. A fight, all too common at Furinkan. I jostled my way
forward to get a better look at the fighters.
"When I have destroyed the evil sorcerer Saotome, I shall allow you to
date with me, O beauteous Akane," Kunou cried. He sounded obsessed.
Irrational. Insane. I shook my head. I recognized the tone. I had heard it
many times before this day. From myself. I sounded this way when "protecting"
Shampoo from Saotome Ranma.
Saotome Ranma, for his part, was standing across from Kunou, the usual
look of insufferable confidence on his face. Kunou looked furious, and I
wondered what Ranma had done this time.
"C'mon, Kunou-senpai, I haven't got all day. Let's finish this," Ranma
shouted. He sounded annoyed. Everyone knew that Kunou was no match for Ranma,
so this was really just a waste of time. Kunou must have heard some of the
muttered comments of that order, because he snarled and leapt toward the younger
boy. Ranma sidestepped and slammed a fist into the back of Kunou's head. The
hakama-clad warrior slumped to the ground, unconscious. It was over just that
fast. Ranma looked like a hero, as usual, and Kunou looked like a buffoon,
again, as usual.
I wondered for a moment if I looked that bad when I was fighting Saotome.
Hm. Best not to dwell on such things. I started to push the thought from my
head when another, stranger thought struck me. Maybe I *should* think about
that. Maybe a little self-examination is in order here. Certainly, things had
changed for me since the previous evening. Not only did I see more clearly
physically, but it was as if a foggy cloud had been lifted from my brain, and
blinders removed from my perception. There was, I realized now, far, far more
to the world than Saotome, Cologne, the Nekohanten, or even Shampoo. It was an
incredibly liberating realization, once that would change my whole life for the
better, or so I hoped.
I glanced down at the bundle in my hands. I still needed to deliver it to
Saotome. Well, it would keep until first lunch. I followed the crowds back
inside and turned down the corridor toward the principal's office. As I opened
the door, I heard a familiar voice.
"But I'm registered here as a boy! Why should I have to wear a girl's
uniform?" At this point, I slipped inside and stood beside the door, waiting.
The secretary sighed when she finally responded, "I'm sorry, Miss Kuonji,
but you *are* a girl. How you are registered is no longer material. Now, you
will wear a girl's uniform from now on or I will be forced to report you to Miss
Hinako."
Ukyou winced at the mention of the diminutive chi-vamp. "No, please, that
won't be necessary. I'll wear the frig..." She paused, catching a warning look
from the secretary, "...I'll wear your uniform."
The school secretary beamed at her victory. "Excellent. Please come and
see me at the same time tomorrow so I can verify your compliance."
Ukyou nodded curtly, then turned to leave. As she adjusted her bandolier
of spatulas, her eyes met mine and narrowed. Kuso. She'd recognized me.
"Take a picture, sugar. It'll last longer," she said as she swept past me.
I blinked. Or maybe she hadn't recognized me.
"Well, Mr. Mousse," the secretary began, as I winced at the images of
'Captain Kangaroo' flashing through my mind, "you passed the entrance exam with
a very high score." Hmph. No surprise there. I was self-educated, and as
such, had tried to maintain and exercise my intellect as well as my body. I
listened as the woman continued, "You will start as a junior. Here is your
class schedule. Unfortunately, due to a high ratio of students-to-teachers in
this district, I was forced to choose your electives for you."
I glanced at the schedule. Nothing shocking. As a junior, I would be in
the same grade as Ranma, Akane and Ukyou and a year behind Nabiki and Kunou.
The electives she had chosen for me were Home Economics and Conversational
Mandarin. I glanced at her, wondering if she had chosen that last one on
purpose. I would probably know more than the teacher did. As for Home-Ec,
well, I *am* an Amazon male. I know more about housekeeping, cooking and sewing
than most Japanese women do. I glanced at the clock behind her. Twenty-five
minutes 'till the hour. No sense in trying to make it to a class. I might as
well wait for first lunch and deliver my package. I thanked the secretary for
her time and left the office.
My plan at this point, only vaguely formed in my head, was to introduce
myself as Tsu-Mu, a Chinese exchange student. If I was lucky, I could actually
make it through a few days of school before someone recognized me. At least I
hoped so. If I could stay under the radar, so to speak, Saotome and the others
would have no reason to talk to me, and if they had no reason to talk to me,
they had no reason to bother me, and I might actually get something out of my
school experience.
Yeah, right. Who was I kidding? Kuonji Ukyou, who didn't know me all
that well, might not recognize me, but what were the odds of escaping the notice
of Saotome, Tendou Akane and, Buddha forbid, Tendou Nabiki? The thought of
attracting any sort of attention from the mercenary girl sent chills up my
spine. I shook my head slowly, trying to clear it. I pulled a 5-yen coin from
my pocket and played with it absently, making it disappear from one hand and
appear in the other.
The hallways were still empty, so I found a seat on a bench outside one of
the classrooms. Inside, I could hear a teacher lecturing about the merits of a
healthy diet and frequent exercise.
I tuned out the man's voice as I continued to play with the coin. I
briefly entertained the thought that Saotome might leave me alone once he knew
who I was, but I just as quickly dismissed the thought. His teasing and
taunting of Hibiki and Kunou proved that he enjoyed fighting them far more than
he enjoyed any semblance of friendship he might have with either of them. The
more I thought about it, the more I came to realize just how irrational Saotome
was. He constantly complained about how mistreated he was by Ryouga, yet he
constantly picked fights with the lost boy. Not that Hibiki was any saner than
Ranma, far from it; he was, if possible, more irrational than even Saotome at
his worst. But it still occurred to me that the two of them would probably have
been friends long before this if not for the actions of Ranma.
I sighed. Truth was, it wasn't all Ranma's fault. Ranma may have been
quick to anger, but he was also quick to forgive. Tendou Akane too, for that
matter. Sure, she might brood on something for a while, but she would always
forgive them eventually. Not like Kunou or Ryouga or . . . I paused. I had
started to add myself to that list, but the truth was, I really didn't feel
angry with Ranma anymore. Sure, his lack of vision in almost all areas of his
social life frustrated me slightly, but that was true of everyone I knew.
Everyone? Was everyone so blind?
Ranma, with his inability to make long-term decisions and his constant
need for competition; Ryouga, with his depression and anger; Akane, seething
with barely suppressed anger and violence; Ukyou, cross dressing and obsessive,
Kunou, ranting irrationally, blind to the fact that one of his two loves was
actually a man he hated; Kodachi, manic and maniacal; Shampoo . . . Shampoo,
completely blind to the fact that her 'airen' didn't love her.
So blind. All of them. Had *I* been so blind? And if I had, what had
changed between last night, with my raging outrage for Ranma and my blinding
desire for Shampoo, and now, where I find myself pitying Ranma and where, while
still quite attracted to Shampoo, she did not occupy my every waking thought.
Not by a long shot. And then there was the matter of my vision . . .
I was still wondering about what had changed when the bell rang. I
remained seated, watching the students passing in the hall. Kunou passed by,
talking in low tones with Tendou Nabiki, who was showing him some photographs.
A few seconds passed. Gosunkugi Hikaru walked past, muttering to himself about
something. I shook my head. Then I saw Saotome.
He was walking down the hall, chatting with Kuonji Ukyou and Tendou Akane.
Both girls were laughing at some observation Ranma had made. I lowered my head
as they passed, pretending great interest in something on my pants leg. Then
they were gone, down the hall and around the corner to the cafeteria. I waited,
toying with the idea of having someone else deliver the package to Saotome. The
crowds of students thinned to nothingness. Then the second bell rang. I stood
up, my purpose clear. I would deliver the package myself. If Saotome
recognized me, so be it.
I walked purposefully toward the cafeteria. I knew what I needed to do
and I was going to do it. I pushed the doors open with one hand and stepped
inside. The lunch room was fairly crowded, but not overly so. I spotted
Saotome immediately.
He was finishing off a large bento, eating the meal so rapidly that his
chopsticks were a blur. Next to him, Tendou Akane was quietly eating her meal,
glancing at Ranma every couple of seconds, but saying nothing. On the other
side of Ranma, at the end of the table, Kuonji Ukyou stood, spatula in hand,
flipping an okonomiyaki over her portable grill. She was chattering happily
about something, but I was too far away to hear what she was saying.
As I moved toward the table, I noticed that very few people were actually
sitting with them. I recognized Hiroshi and Daisuke, who were sometime friends
with Saotome, and Tendou Akane's two friends, Yuka and Sayuri, sitting nearby,
but no one could accuse them of actually sitting _with_ Saotome or his fiancés.
I stepped up to the table and bowed slightly before speaking. "Saotome
Ranma?" I asked.
Saotome looked up in surprise, his chopsticks still hanging from his
mouth. Tendou Akane shot me a wide-eyed, questioning look and Kuonji Ukyou
simply glared at me.
"Yeah," Ranma replied, not removing the chopsticks from his mouth.
"I am Tsu-Mu," I began, hoping that Saotome, in his infinite wisdom, would
not recognize the name, "and I have brought you a delivery from the Nekohantan's
owner, Khu-Lon." I pronounced the old ghoul's name carefully, not mangling it
into 'Cologne' as was the habit here in Japan. As I spoke, Kuonji Ukyou lowered
her mouth to Saotome's ear and whispered something. Years of doing without
proper vision had allowed my other senses to become more attuned to their
surroundings. Unfortunately, I was still unable to make out what she was
whispering. Saotome's eyes watched me as she spoke, and slowly narrowed. Kuso.
Not good. Ranma took the chopsticks from his mouth before speaking.
"So you're the guy who was bugging Ucchan earlier, huh?" he growled. I
managed to look mildly surprised. I hadn't thought much about the minor
confrontation in the secretary's office, beyond my fear that Kuonji might have
recognized me. I set the package on the table in front of me and tucked my
hands into my pockets. It was a nervous gesture, I admit, akin to my tucking my
hands in my robe sleeves where they couldn't be seen playing with something. At
this point, I wasn't afraid of Saotome, per se, but I was afraid that he might
recognize me.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," I responded, a bit stiffly. Ranma
stood up suddenly, nearly flipping the table. He looked angry.
"Don't deny it! You've been following her home from school everyday! And
sending those flowers and those perverted letters!" he yelled. Heads began
turning in our direction as he shouted.
This time my surprise was genuine. Someone was stalking Ukyou? I combed
my mind for memories of who it could be. Kurenai was the only name I could come
up with, but I was sure Ranma had already questioned him, especially if it was
an ongoing thing.
Besides, Kuonji had no fear of the disguise artist, and this stalker had
her sufficiently worried to involve her Ranchan. Under normal circumstances,
Ukyou would simply spatula the offender into the ground. Apparently there was
something more here than a simple stalker. I determined to defuse the situation
as best I could, then find out more.
"Please," I murmured, "you're making a scene. I told you, I don't know
your friend or yourself. I'm simply delivering a package." Ranma simply glared
at me.
"Yeah right! The way you pronounce her name, I'll bet you don't even know
Cologne!" His glare increased in intensity.
I winced. His glare was mildly unnerving. I'd rarely seen Ranma this
angry, and I'd been on the receiving end of this look only once before. The
time I had kidnapped Tendou Akane. I'm ashamed of this fact now, but at the
time it seemed like the only plan that would allow me to win the love of my
darling Shamp . . .
I cut off that thought. Ranma was still glaring at me and from the way he
was standing, I could tell that whatever this stalker represented, it was
something Ranma considered to be a threat, not only to Kuonji, but to Tendou
Akane as well. So why was he attacking me?
"You're a fool, Saotome," I muttered. As the words escaped my lips, I
realized I had spoken them aloud. Too loud. The silence following my blunder
was, cliched as it is, deafening. Ranma looked blankly surprised for a moment,
then shrugged, as if making decision.
"Ok. I challenge you to a fight after school," he said. His sudden calm
was more unnerving than his initial anger.
"What makes you think I know how to fight," I replied nervously.
"The way you walk, for one," Ranma replied. I shrugged before responding.
"Very well. Far be it from me to turn down a fairly offered challenge," I
replied, rather curtly. He nodded once and sat down again. I noticed that I
was getting stares, not only from Kuonji and Saotome, but from Tendou Akane as
well. Hiroshi and Daisuke glanced at me, mixed pity and disgust on their faces.
Sayuri and Yuka were also glaring at me angrily. I sighed. So much for trying
to go to school here quietly.
I was reaching the cafeteria door when a hand on my arm stopped me. I
turned to look into the eyes of Tendou Nabiki. A chill ran up my spine. She
recognized me.
"So, 'Tsu-Mu'," she said, a slight smirk on her face, "what brings you to
Furinkan High?" I winced at her tone, but managed to smile politely before
speaking. I was still hoping against hope she didn't _really_ recognize me.
"It is a requirement of my work visa," I replied. She nodded, obviously
filing this information away for future use.
"What about Shampoo," she asked. I sagged. She really had recognized me.
"What about her," I responded. I was growing weary of her questions.
"What does she think of you sending flowers to Ukyou?"
"It wasn't me," I snapped.
"I know," she replied airily.
"Then why . . . "
"You've changed, Mousse," she murmured. She was looking at me strangely,
as if seeing me for the first time. I grunted a slight acknowledgement. It was
then that I noticed that her hand was still on my arm. I gently pulled away and
began to walk down the hall. "Wait," she said. She stepped through the doors
and stepped up beside me. "Obviously, you don't want anyone to know who you
are," she said with a knowing smile.
"Was I that obvious, Tendou Nabiki," I said dryly, trying to hide the
anger in my voice. Her smile grew wider. I sighed and reached for my wallet.
"How much?" I muttered. She frowned in thought, looking at the ceiling.
"I'll tell you what. I'll keep your secret for now, but you owe me a
favor at a later date," she replied, smiling again. I blinked.
"Very well," I replied, a little non-plussed at her odd request. She
smiled brightly before she spoke again.
"So," she asked conversationally, "how badly will you lose against Ranma?"
I considered her question carefully before answering.
In the past, whenever I would fight Saotome, I would lose. This was a
simple fact. The not so simple reason is that I lost on purpose, at least
subconsciously. The way my mind saw it, if I ever allowed myself to actually
win against Saotome, the next logical step would be to challenge Shampoo for her
hand in marriage. I didn't want that. I wanted her to reject Saotome and
choose me because she loved me, not because she was obligated to.
Granted, I always tried hard against Saotome, don't get me wrong. He is
an _extremely_ skilled martial-artist. And that was the level I always met him
at. That of a martial-artist. But I am not a martial-artist first. I am a
warrior-mage first, and one of the clan Shen Lung. My skills are great, and have
been proven on the field of challenge.
My chi techniques are based on the Shen-Lung clan's personal martial arts,
the Shadow Dragon School. My hidden-weapons techniques draw from the most basic
lessons of this incredibly powerful school.
Like my chi assaults, my magic is primarily based on the element of void.
Elemental magic is based on the manipulation of the five elements - earth,
water, fire, air and void. Certain chi techniques utilize one or more of these
elements.
For example, Hibiki Ryouga's 'Bakusai Tenketsu', or 'Breaking Point'
technique is based on the element of earth, while his 'Shishi Hokoudan', or
'Roaring Lion Projectile', is based on the element of air.
Saotome Ranma uses the element of fire in his 'Moko Takabisha', or 'Fierce
Tiger Overbearing', while his most powerful technique, the 'Hiryu Shouten Ha',
or 'Rising Dragon Ascending to Heaven', utilizes fire, water, and air in a
devastating and lethal whirlwind assault.
My own chi and mana techniques focus on the final element, the element of
void. An extremely difficult and extremely dangerous school of magic, the
School of the Void focuses on stealth and long-distance attacks. With any luck,
I would be able to defeat Saotome without too much hassle.
So why was I always running around, challenging Saotome and harassing him
and his, only to lose? Well, in my blind stupidity, I thought that I had to
prove to Shampoo that I loved her, and the only way I knew to do that was to
fight Saotome relentlessly. Silly? Perhaps. But it was the way I was.
I sighed. This time would be different though. This time, it wasn't a
matter of Shampoo at all. It was a matter of honor. My reputation as a man was
nothing to me. I was a Joketsuzoku male. In the eyes of the tribe, men are
nothing. My reputation as a martial-artist was nothing as well, since I don't
consider myself to truly be a martial-artist.
But now my reputation as a human being and as a person had been sullied.
My personal honor had been besmirched. For that, I must fight with all my
might, without holding back. Without trying to lose. Not even for Shampoo.
Not this time. I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes.
"Let me give you a tip, Tendou Nabiki," I whispered, lowering my face so
that my nose almost touched hers. Her eyes bored into mine. "Don't bet on
Saotome." Her eyes widened. "He's going to lose," I whispered. I felt her
soft breath on my face. "It's a sure thing." Her eyes held mine. Gods, she
has beautiful ey-
I cut the thought off and stumbled back, gasping. Nabiki stared at me,
confusion flickering across her face for a brief second before her control
reasserted itself. She gazed at me impassively as I backed away.
"We'll see about that," she said flatly. "Ranma has never lost a match
yet." She paused, studying me for a moment. "Especially not to you."
"Well, don't say I didn't try to warn you," I muttered, still trying to
figure out what precisely had just happened to me. She sniffed and turned to
walk off. She paused for a moment to glance back at me. She seemed about to
say something, but before she could, two of her friends came out of the
cafeteria. Her friends glared at me as they walked toward Nabiki. I turned and
left, not interested in whatever they were discussing.
I made it to my next class with plenty of time to spare. My stomach
growled slightly, reminding me that I hadn't eaten lunch. I hadn't eaten
breakfast either, for that matter. I reached into my pocket and pulled an apple
out. Granted, the apple hadn't been there the moment before, but such is the
nature of my talent. I munched quietly on it while I scanned the softback
textbook I had picked up on the way in the door. As I sat there, a few students
came in, in twos and threes, chatting about this and that. Few noticed me, and
those who did either glared at me or ignored me. I sighed.
The rest of the school day was a blur. Classes came and went and my mind
was only on the clock. Finally, 15:00 rolled around. It took me a while to
find my locker, so most of the halls were clear by the time I stepped outside.
I walked quickly toward the soccer field, the preferred dueling ground at
Furinkan High. It seemed that the entire school had turned out for the match.
A 'Ranma Saotome Challenge' was a major, albeit common, event here, and
the vendors had their little carts set up, selling souvenirs, trinkets and food.
As I passed the betting booth, I did manage to overhear the odds being given on
the match, and was pleasantly surprised to hear that Tendou Nabiki was giving me
better-than-average odds against Saotome, though not as good as the odds she
gave Ryouga in one of their all-too-common matches.
The crowd parted to let me through. I heard a few boos and hisses as I
stepped onto the field. Saotome was there, silhouetted by the sun, his usual
cocky expression replaced by one of righteous anger. The look would have been
at home on Kunou Tatewaki's face. I was a little worried at this point, since I
would not be able to use any of my usual weapons-summoning techniques.
Otherwise, Saotome would know instantly who I was, and I still hoped to wrap
this up and get away without being recognized. He was dressed in his standard
Chinese-style garments. I was still wearing my dress pants and shirt. Not the
best thing to fight in, but it was all I had. I stepped toward him and stopped
about ten feet from him. Customarily, the challenger speaks first, but I chose
to speak before Saotome did.
"Saotome Ranma, you have impugned my honor as a man and as a warrior. You
have challenged me to combat to back your groundless accusations!" I snarled.
"Yeah, so let's get on with it," snapped Ranma, smacking his fist into his
palm. Before he could advance, I held out my hands, palms toward Ranma in a
halting gesture.
"Wait. We must outline the spoils of victory and the rules of
engagement." I paused for effect. "If I win, you must retract these baseless
charges you have made against my person." I was proud of my speech. My
inflections were cultured without being arrogant. They were also completely
different from my usual manner of speaking. Ranma smiled.
"And if I win, you will leave Furinkan and never return. And," he paused
menacingly, "if I ever hear about you coming near one of my friends again, I'll
make you wish you hadn't." I smiled. He frowned and continued. "As for the
rules," he said, smiling ironically, "anything goes."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Saotome." I said. I looked to the
sidelines. Daisuke, dressed in a referee's uniform, stepped out from the crowd
and raised a red bandanna over his head.
"Ready," he called. I balanced on my toes, shifting back and forth
slowly. Ranma relaxed, sagging back into his usual attack posture.
"Set," Daisuke shouted. I tensed slightly. Ranma moved not a whit,
simply watching me.
"FIGHT!" Daisuke yelled, dropping the hand with the bandanna. He leapt
backwards as Saotome and I came together.
=======================================================================
=======================================================================
=======================================================================
Authors Notes:
This is my first *major* piece. It is also the one that has been the
best-received among my pre-readers. It is long, complicated, and probably not
worth the effort. But I like it, at least, I think it has the most potential.
I know Mousse is OOC. That's the point. :-)
Thanks to everyone who wrote in with comments and criticisms. Let me know
what you think of this revision.
ALL comments, criticisms, MST, etc, both public and private, are very much
welcomed by the author.
=======================================================================
***********************************************************************
And It Was Full Of Stars
Part I
3rd Draft (FFML) Version 0.3
A Ranma 1/2 Fan-Fiction
-= By Gendou Knepper =-
Ranma 1/2 characters & situations created and copyright by:
Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan/Kitty/Fuji/Viz/etc.
Other copyrights are owned by the respective copyright owners.
All copywritten material is used without permission.
All other material is (c)2000 Gendou Knepper
http://www.gendou.net/
***********************************************************************
.oO Prologue Oo.
Be careful what you wish for. We've all heard it. We've all been warned
at one time or another to watch our wishes. You might think, 'How bad could a
wish be?' Well, for example, you might innocently wish for a day in the park.
Parks are normally considered to be peaceful places. Places where
children can run and play under the benevolent eyes of their guardians. Places
of picnics and parties, where people can be free to sing and read, walk and
talk, live and love.
Unfortunately, not all parks are peaceful.
For instance, Avon Park is a military bombing range.
Central Park in New York City is sometimes considered to be one of the most
dangerous places to be.
Gorky Park in Moscow is crime-ridden and polluted.
And Riverside Park in Nerima is a battlefield for the panoply of martial-artists
who make their homes in the district.
There, even now, people are scrambling out of the way of the two young men
who are fighting each other, while others are simply jockeying for a better view
of the proceedings.
"Die, Saotome," snarled Mousse, unleashing a mind-boggling array of bladed
weaponry from within the confines of his robe. Ranma dodged nimbly to one side,
snagging one of the chains with his hand as he went.
"C'mon, duck-boy, whaddid I do this time? I haven't even seen Shampoo all
day!" Ranma yanked on the chain as he spoke, pulling Mousse off-balance for a
moment.
"Exactly! You hurt Shampoo's feelings by not visiting her! For that you
must DIE!!!" Mousse ground his teeth together and swung his arms back,
attempting to recover the chain. Unfortunately, Ranma had already released his
grip on it. With nothing to pull against, Mousse flew backwards, landing with a
splash in the fountain. The transformation was near-instantaneous.
"Quack quack quack quack," he muttered, struggling to free himself from
his water-logged robes. He'd lost his glasses in the transformation too, so now
everything was just a big blur. He escaped from the robes and leaped from the
fountain, hissing. "Quackquackquack!" Mu-Mu spat, unveiling a barrage of knives
from under his wings. Suddenly, a blur moved toward him at an ungodly rate of
speed. He assumed it was Ranma. He assumed wrong.
"Nihao, Ranma!" Shampoo cried cheerily from her delivery bicycle, not even
pausing as she rode over Mu-Mu. He lay there on his back, barely feeling the
pain in his small body where the bike had cruelly ground him into the dirt. He
vaguely heard Ranma trying to get away from Shampoo as she tried to feed him
dim-sum and ramen. All he saw was a bright, bright blur, slowly fading to
black. As the last light faded from his eyes, he thought:
"I wish I could see clearly."
Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.
-=[ Awakenings I - A Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction ]=-
*(By Gendou Knepper)*
.oO Part 1 Oo.
*'Ceiling tiles. Odd. I've never noticed them before.'*
Such were my first thoughts upon awakening that fateful morning. I hadn't
realized yet just how changed I was, but I knew even then that my eyes had been
opened. I brushed the back of my hand across my face and shook my head.
Sitting up, I reached for my glasses. As I started to put them on, something in
my mind clicked. I dropped my glasses back on the end table and glanced back up
at the ceiling.
*'Tiles. I can see the tiles. I can SEE the tiles!'*
I gasped aloud. This was new. I looked at the door across the room. I
could see the door. And the doorknob. I jumped out of bed, bounded to the
door and flung it open. I could see down the hall. This was definitely new. I
could see! I could see! I raced down the hall to the stairs and bounced down,
taking them two at a time. I leaped over the counter, vaulted two tables and
threw the doors open.
The sun was just peeking over the rooftops of the town, where a few low-
lying clouds were burning off. It looked to be a beautiful day. I looked up
one side of the street and down the other. I could see for blocks, and it felt
like I could see for miles. I knew I must looked crazed, standing there in my
nightshirt and boxers, grinning like a madman and pointing at the birds that
winged by overhead. I turned and looked up at the sign above me.
*'Nekohanten,'* I thought.
I rubbed my eyes, making sure that my eyes were actually reading without
the aid of my glasses. They were. I threw my head back and began to laugh;
maniacally, I'm sure, but I just couldn't stop. I could see! I was still
laughing when my newly-restored vision exploded into stars. A massive wave of
pain washed over me as my vision blurred out.
"No! My eyes!" I shrieked. I closed my eyes against the pain and
collapsed to my knees in front of the restaurant. I felt the cold cement grind
into my palms as I twisted my hands on the sidewalk. The sharpest pain passed
suddenly, resolving into a throbbing in the back of my skull. I was afraid to
open my eyes, afraid to prove that my new vision was just a temporary thing.
Slowly, painfully, I forced my eyes open. The grey blur of concrete met my
eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut again, damning fate and whatever gods had stolen
my sight after so short a time. I stood slowly, shaking my head to clear it.
As the pain faded, I opened my eyes again. A purple blur greeted me this time,
but it rapidly resolved into a shape. Hair. Purple hair. Xian-Pu. She was
glaring at me, a scowl marring her beautiful features.
"Stupid Msu-Tsu," she snapped in Mandarin, "Quit acting foolishly.
Come inside and start cleaning. We open soon, and great-grandmother will be
very angry with you if you aren't ready."
I blinked at her for a second, still getting used to my new-and-improved
vision. I glanced at the bon-bori in her hand and realized she must have just
smacked me in the back of the head with it. When I didn't respond any further,
she moved to strike me again. As her arm swung back, I started to cringe, my
usual response to physical abuse from Shampoo. But then, I suddenly realized
just how idiotic all of this was. She was going to hit me. Hard. Just for
standing outside. I was amazed at her actions, then outraged. As she swung her
arm forward, I caught her arm and held it, firmly.
"No," I whispered in Japanese. "Never again, Shampoo. Never again strike
me in anger. It isn't right. You're better than this."
Shampoo, for her part, was completely shocked, which, I believe now, saved
me from a full body cast and traction. I pushed past her and walked slowly into
the restaurant.
"Msu-Tsu, what is going on out there?" Cologne glanced up from the
kitchen counter where she was preparing for the first customers of the day. I
noticed a small pot set aside, undoubtedly for some unholy creation she was
planning to get Shampoo to feed to Saotome. Saotome. Ranma. The name didn't
bring the usual insane anger it usually did. I glanced at the old woman as I
started up the stairs toward my room. "Mousse," she shouted, switching to
Japanese, "come back here and answer me, boy!" I ignored her, slamming the door
to my room.
My door had no lock, at least not one on the inside, so I pushed my bed in
front of it, situating it firmly against the door. Only then did I make my way
to the closet. Opening it, I examined my clothing choices. Unfortunately,
there wasn't much to choose from.
*'Robes. Lots and lots of white robes.'* Somehow, wearing robes for
everyday wear didn't quite seem appropriate anymore. I pawed through them until
I came to the back of the closet. There I found a white shirt and black pants,
remnants of Ranma and Akane's ruined wedding. I had had them laundered to get
the tempura flakes and sulfur smell out and hadn't looked at them since. I
gathered them up quickly, not wanting to spend another minute in the Nekohanten
that I didn't have to. I wasn't sure why I felt this way, but I wasn't in the
mood to argue with my feelings on the matter.
I pulled the bed away from the door and opened it slowly. Nothing. I
glanced into the hall. I could hear rattling downstairs in the kitchen.
Cologne, undoubtedly. She usually cooked and let Shampoo play waitress.
Business was always better when a perky young woman was serving the food than
when a shriveled old hag bounced about on her stick. All depends on the type of
bounce, I realized.
I started down the hall toward the bathroom. I checked the floor in front
of the door. No slippers. I set mine outside the door and stepped inside. I
showered and shaved, brushed and flossed my teeth and combed out my long hair.
Realizing that it would probably get in my way, I bound it back in ponytail.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Wearing a shirt and pants, with my hair
back, without glasses, I barely recognized myself. I grinned. I opened the
bathroom door and slipped into my house slippers. I traded them for outside
shoes at the landing, then moved downstairs to the restaurant proper.
Shampoo was wiping off a table in the center of the restaurant, while
Cologne pogo-ed about the kitchen on her walking stick. Hearing me come down
the stairs, Shampoo looked up. She met my gaze steadily, but said nothing. I
smiled politely and started for the door, hoping to avoid the fallout from my
earlier behavior. Better to hope for the sun to rise over the western horizon.
"Mousse, where are you going?" inquired Cologne, rather sweetly. Uh-oh.
She was being polite. I had better watch myself.
"Out," I replied warily.
"Really. We open in less than an hour and you've done no work this
morning," she said. Her tone held a warning.
"I'm taking the morning off," I said matter-of-factly, my tone far lighter
than I felt.
"Sorry, boy. No breaks this morning. Shampoo is running a delivery to
the high school this morning, and I need you to wait tables." I winced inwardly
at the steel in her tone. It brooked no argument. As I mentally scrambled for
a way to get out of work, all the pieces fell together at once. I had a plan.
I smiled inwardly and stepped toward Cologne.
"Let me deliver the package to the school. That's where I'm going
anyway," I responded, smiling. "I'm signing up for classes there." At
Cologne's raised eyebrow, I hurried on. "My alien work visa requires I attend
school anyway, and I need to complete my education." Cologne stared at me,
something like . . . understanding? No! It must be shock . . . dawning in her
eyes. She nodded once, rather curtly. Reaching behind the counter, she quickly
tossed me a bundle. I caught it deftly. She smiled slightly.
"Your vision's improved, boy," she said. I returned her slight smile and
turned to leave. Shampoo was still staring at me, confusion in her eyes. I
bowed low, at the waist.
"Have a nice day," I said, and was out the door without waiting for a
response.
.oO Part 2 Oo.
I moved quickly down the street toward Furinkan, taking in the sights all
around me. Everything was so bright and crisp and . . . visible, which is new
to me. As I turned in at the front gate, I heard a familiar sound. Tendou
Akane and Saotome Ranma, bickering over some slight, real or imagined. I stood
and watched them as they passed. They were so absorbed in arguing that they
didn't even look up as they passed by me. Everyone else gave them a wide berth
as they moved toward the doors. I frowned slightly, feeling my mood shift. Why
were they always arguing? Didn't they care for each other? So many lives
altered or ruined just so that they could be together, and they waste their time
trading petty insults. I felt my frustration level rising as I watched them
enter the building. I glanced at the clock on the front of the school. Still
20 minutes 'till first period. Plenty of time to sign up, I hoped.
Spending an inordinate amount of free time hanging around Furinkan trying
to pick a fight with Saotome had given me a knowledge of the class schedule for
the 1st and 2nd year students. It also allowed me to learn the layout of the
school.
One of the odd things about Furinkan High is its layout. Like most
Japanese high schools, Furinkan had three floors. At most high schools, the
first floor is for first year students, the second for second year, with the top
floor being reserved for the seniors. (High school only has three grade levels
in Japan) At Furinkan, though, the first year students have the top floor,
second year has the middle and the lower floor is the senior floor. Very
strange. It always kind of bugged me.
I headed straight for the principal's office. I hoped I wouldn't have to
deal with him. The madman would probably try to shave my head. I was in luck,
however. He was on another sabbatical to the Hawaiian Islands. I explained to
the school secretary that I was in Japan on a work visa, and I needed to sign up
for school here. After the usual runaround about the fall semester having
started two weeks ago, she agreed to proctor the entrance exam for me. It took
me about 30 minutes to complete the test, so I was already well into first
period when I finished up. She said she would grade it as soon as possible and
get back to me after lunch, but I was free to sit in on any of the classes I
chose until she had my schedule ready. I thanked her and left the office.
I walked down the hall, stopping by each door and listening to the
teacher, trying to decide which one to visit first. Japanese History . . . no.
Math . . uh, no thanks. English . . . maybe . . . wait, is that Miss Hin... oh
no, I definitely do not want that. Let's see . . . Economics . . . hm . . . why
not? I opened the door slowly. The teacher stopped for a moment and glanced at
me over her glasses. I smiled and nodded, moving toward the back of the class
without explanation.
"Excuse me, young man - may I help you?" The teacher wasn't going to let
the matter lie. As I looked back at her, I noticed that I had the attention of
the entire class. Not good. I despise speaking in public. Most Amazon men do.
Bravely, I tried to smile before responding.
"I, uhm . . hmm, I'm, uh, new here," I managed to stammer, "and the
secretary, uhm . . . she, erm, she said," I took a deep breath, ". . . said I
should sit in on some of the classes while she works out my schedule." I sighed,
relieved to have gotten everything out without stammering. The teacher nodded,
apparently satisfied with my answer. I quickly sat down in the back, relieved
she didn't make me introduce myself.
Glancing around the classroom, I recognized a few faces, but no-one I
really knew well. I sat back and listened to the teacher droning on about
various economic structures. I sighed. I knew economics. Well, I knew
practical economics, anyway. Heck, I had to keep the books at the Nekohanten.
Money matters were man's work. Women had more important things to worry about.
I wondered briefly if that was why Shampoo and Cologne held Tendou Nabiki in
such low regard. Well, there was probably more to it than just that. The
teacher was asking if anyone understood the basic principle behind capitalism.
I'll just bet that Tendou Nabiki passed this class with flying colours. I
grinned to myself. The rest of the class period seemed to fly by. Soon, the
bell rang, signaling the students to move on to the next class.
As I stepped out of the classroom, I watched the faces of the other
students for some sign of recognition. Nothing. Just as well, I suppose. As I
headed back toward the principal's office, I saw Tendou Nabiki and her minions
head outside. As they moved toward the front doors, many of the students
swarming the hallways moved to follow. I glanced down the hall toward the
principal's office. I did have another class period before first lunch, and I
was curious to see what was going on outside. As I stepped toward the door, I
heard a shout.
"Tendou Akane, I will rescue you from the foul sorcerer Saotome!"
Kunou. Of course. A fight, all too common at Furinkan. I jostled my way
forward to get a better look at the fighters.
"When I have destroyed the evil sorcerer Saotome, I shall allow you to
date with me, O beauteous Akane," Kunou cried. He sounded obsessed.
Irrational. Insane. I shook my head. I recognized the tone. I had heard it
many times before this day. From myself. I sounded this way when "protecting"
Shampoo from Saotome Ranma.
Saotome Ranma, for his part, was standing across from Kunou, the usual
look of insufferable confidence on his face. Kunou looked furious, and I
wondered what Ranma had done this time.
"C'mon, Kunou-senpai, I haven't got all day. Let's finish this," Ranma
shouted. He sounded annoyed. Everyone knew that Kunou was no match for Ranma,
so this was really just a waste of time. Kunou must have heard some of the
muttered comments of that order, because he snarled and leapt toward the younger
boy. Ranma sidestepped and slammed a fist into the back of Kunou's head. The
hakama-clad warrior slumped to the ground, unconscious. It was over just that
fast. Ranma looked like a hero, as usual, and Kunou looked like a buffoon,
again, as usual.
I wondered for a moment if I looked that bad when I was fighting Saotome.
Hm. Best not to dwell on such things. I started to push the thought from my
head when another, stranger thought struck me. Maybe I *should* think about
that. Maybe a little self-examination is in order here. Certainly, things had
changed for me since the previous evening. Not only did I see more clearly
physically, but it was as if a foggy cloud had been lifted from my brain, and
blinders removed from my perception. There was, I realized now, far, far more
to the world than Saotome, Cologne, the Nekohanten, or even Shampoo. It was an
incredibly liberating realization, once that would change my whole life for the
better, or so I hoped.
I glanced down at the bundle in my hands. I still needed to deliver it to
Saotome. Well, it would keep until first lunch. I followed the crowds back
inside and turned down the corridor toward the principal's office. As I opened
the door, I heard a familiar voice.
"But I'm registered here as a boy! Why should I have to wear a girl's
uniform?" At this point, I slipped inside and stood beside the door, waiting.
The secretary sighed when she finally responded, "I'm sorry, Miss Kuonji,
but you *are* a girl. How you are registered is no longer material. Now, you
will wear a girl's uniform from now on or I will be forced to report you to Miss
Hinako."
Ukyou winced at the mention of the diminutive chi-vamp. "No, please, that
won't be necessary. I'll wear the frig..." She paused, catching a warning look
from the secretary, "...I'll wear your uniform."
The school secretary beamed at her victory. "Excellent. Please come and
see me at the same time tomorrow so I can verify your compliance."
Ukyou nodded curtly, then turned to leave. As she adjusted her bandolier
of spatulas, her eyes met mine and narrowed. Kuso. She'd recognized me.
"Take a picture, sugar. It'll last longer," she said as she swept past me.
I blinked. Or maybe she hadn't recognized me.
"Well, Mr. Mousse," the secretary began, as I winced at the images of
'Captain Kangaroo' flashing through my mind, "you passed the entrance exam with
a very high score." Hmph. No surprise there. I was self-educated, and as
such, had tried to maintain and exercise my intellect as well as my body. I
listened as the woman continued, "You will start as a junior. Here is your
class schedule. Unfortunately, due to a high ratio of students-to-teachers in
this district, I was forced to choose your electives for you."
I glanced at the schedule. Nothing shocking. As a junior, I would be in
the same grade as Ranma, Akane and Ukyou and a year behind Nabiki and Kunou.
The electives she had chosen for me were Home Economics and Conversational
Mandarin. I glanced at her, wondering if she had chosen that last one on
purpose. I would probably know more than the teacher did. As for Home-Ec,
well, I *am* an Amazon male. I know more about housekeeping, cooking and sewing
than most Japanese women do. I glanced at the clock behind her. Twenty-five
minutes 'till the hour. No sense in trying to make it to a class. I might as
well wait for first lunch and deliver my package. I thanked the secretary for
her time and left the office.
My plan at this point, only vaguely formed in my head, was to introduce
myself as Tsu-Mu, a Chinese exchange student. If I was lucky, I could actually
make it through a few days of school before someone recognized me. At least I
hoped so. If I could stay under the radar, so to speak, Saotome and the others
would have no reason to talk to me, and if they had no reason to talk to me,
they had no reason to bother me, and I might actually get something out of my
school experience.
Yeah, right. Who was I kidding? Kuonji Ukyou, who didn't know me all
that well, might not recognize me, but what were the odds of escaping the notice
of Saotome, Tendou Akane and, Buddha forbid, Tendou Nabiki? The thought of
attracting any sort of attention from the mercenary girl sent chills up my
spine. I shook my head slowly, trying to clear it. I pulled a 5-yen coin from
my pocket and played with it absently, making it disappear from one hand and
appear in the other.
The hallways were still empty, so I found a seat on a bench outside one of
the classrooms. Inside, I could hear a teacher lecturing about the merits of a
healthy diet and frequent exercise.
I tuned out the man's voice as I continued to play with the coin. I
briefly entertained the thought that Saotome might leave me alone once he knew
who I was, but I just as quickly dismissed the thought. His teasing and
taunting of Hibiki and Kunou proved that he enjoyed fighting them far more than
he enjoyed any semblance of friendship he might have with either of them. The
more I thought about it, the more I came to realize just how irrational Saotome
was. He constantly complained about how mistreated he was by Ryouga, yet he
constantly picked fights with the lost boy. Not that Hibiki was any saner than
Ranma, far from it; he was, if possible, more irrational than even Saotome at
his worst. But it still occurred to me that the two of them would probably have
been friends long before this if not for the actions of Ranma.
I sighed. Truth was, it wasn't all Ranma's fault. Ranma may have been
quick to anger, but he was also quick to forgive. Tendou Akane too, for that
matter. Sure, she might brood on something for a while, but she would always
forgive them eventually. Not like Kunou or Ryouga or . . . I paused. I had
started to add myself to that list, but the truth was, I really didn't feel
angry with Ranma anymore. Sure, his lack of vision in almost all areas of his
social life frustrated me slightly, but that was true of everyone I knew.
Everyone? Was everyone so blind?
Ranma, with his inability to make long-term decisions and his constant
need for competition; Ryouga, with his depression and anger; Akane, seething
with barely suppressed anger and violence; Ukyou, cross dressing and obsessive,
Kunou, ranting irrationally, blind to the fact that one of his two loves was
actually a man he hated; Kodachi, manic and maniacal; Shampoo . . . Shampoo,
completely blind to the fact that her 'airen' didn't love her.
So blind. All of them. Had *I* been so blind? And if I had, what had
changed between last night, with my raging outrage for Ranma and my blinding
desire for Shampoo, and now, where I find myself pitying Ranma and where, while
still quite attracted to Shampoo, she did not occupy my every waking thought.
Not by a long shot. And then there was the matter of my vision . . .
I was still wondering about what had changed when the bell rang. I
remained seated, watching the students passing in the hall. Kunou passed by,
talking in low tones with Tendou Nabiki, who was showing him some photographs.
A few seconds passed. Gosunkugi Hikaru walked past, muttering to himself about
something. I shook my head. Then I saw Saotome.
He was walking down the hall, chatting with Kuonji Ukyou and Tendou Akane.
Both girls were laughing at some observation Ranma had made. I lowered my head
as they passed, pretending great interest in something on my pants leg. Then
they were gone, down the hall and around the corner to the cafeteria. I waited,
toying with the idea of having someone else deliver the package to Saotome. The
crowds of students thinned to nothingness. Then the second bell rang. I stood
up, my purpose clear. I would deliver the package myself. If Saotome
recognized me, so be it.
I walked purposefully toward the cafeteria. I knew what I needed to do
and I was going to do it. I pushed the doors open with one hand and stepped
inside. The lunch room was fairly crowded, but not overly so. I spotted
Saotome immediately.
He was finishing off a large bento, eating the meal so rapidly that his
chopsticks were a blur. Next to him, Tendou Akane was quietly eating her meal,
glancing at Ranma every couple of seconds, but saying nothing. On the other
side of Ranma, at the end of the table, Kuonji Ukyou stood, spatula in hand,
flipping an okonomiyaki over her portable grill. She was chattering happily
about something, but I was too far away to hear what she was saying.
As I moved toward the table, I noticed that very few people were actually
sitting with them. I recognized Hiroshi and Daisuke, who were sometime friends
with Saotome, and Tendou Akane's two friends, Yuka and Sayuri, sitting nearby,
but no one could accuse them of actually sitting _with_ Saotome or his fiancés.
I stepped up to the table and bowed slightly before speaking. "Saotome
Ranma?" I asked.
Saotome looked up in surprise, his chopsticks still hanging from his
mouth. Tendou Akane shot me a wide-eyed, questioning look and Kuonji Ukyou
simply glared at me.
"Yeah," Ranma replied, not removing the chopsticks from his mouth.
"I am Tsu-Mu," I began, hoping that Saotome, in his infinite wisdom, would
not recognize the name, "and I have brought you a delivery from the Nekohantan's
owner, Khu-Lon." I pronounced the old ghoul's name carefully, not mangling it
into 'Cologne' as was the habit here in Japan. As I spoke, Kuonji Ukyou lowered
her mouth to Saotome's ear and whispered something. Years of doing without
proper vision had allowed my other senses to become more attuned to their
surroundings. Unfortunately, I was still unable to make out what she was
whispering. Saotome's eyes watched me as she spoke, and slowly narrowed. Kuso.
Not good. Ranma took the chopsticks from his mouth before speaking.
"So you're the guy who was bugging Ucchan earlier, huh?" he growled. I
managed to look mildly surprised. I hadn't thought much about the minor
confrontation in the secretary's office, beyond my fear that Kuonji might have
recognized me. I set the package on the table in front of me and tucked my
hands into my pockets. It was a nervous gesture, I admit, akin to my tucking my
hands in my robe sleeves where they couldn't be seen playing with something. At
this point, I wasn't afraid of Saotome, per se, but I was afraid that he might
recognize me.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," I responded, a bit stiffly. Ranma
stood up suddenly, nearly flipping the table. He looked angry.
"Don't deny it! You've been following her home from school everyday! And
sending those flowers and those perverted letters!" he yelled. Heads began
turning in our direction as he shouted.
This time my surprise was genuine. Someone was stalking Ukyou? I combed
my mind for memories of who it could be. Kurenai was the only name I could come
up with, but I was sure Ranma had already questioned him, especially if it was
an ongoing thing.
Besides, Kuonji had no fear of the disguise artist, and this stalker had
her sufficiently worried to involve her Ranchan. Under normal circumstances,
Ukyou would simply spatula the offender into the ground. Apparently there was
something more here than a simple stalker. I determined to defuse the situation
as best I could, then find out more.
"Please," I murmured, "you're making a scene. I told you, I don't know
your friend or yourself. I'm simply delivering a package." Ranma simply glared
at me.
"Yeah right! The way you pronounce her name, I'll bet you don't even know
Cologne!" His glare increased in intensity.
I winced. His glare was mildly unnerving. I'd rarely seen Ranma this
angry, and I'd been on the receiving end of this look only once before. The
time I had kidnapped Tendou Akane. I'm ashamed of this fact now, but at the
time it seemed like the only plan that would allow me to win the love of my
darling Shamp . . .
I cut off that thought. Ranma was still glaring at me and from the way he
was standing, I could tell that whatever this stalker represented, it was
something Ranma considered to be a threat, not only to Kuonji, but to Tendou
Akane as well. So why was he attacking me?
"You're a fool, Saotome," I muttered. As the words escaped my lips, I
realized I had spoken them aloud. Too loud. The silence following my blunder
was, cliched as it is, deafening. Ranma looked blankly surprised for a moment,
then shrugged, as if making decision.
"Ok. I challenge you to a fight after school," he said. His sudden calm
was more unnerving than his initial anger.
"What makes you think I know how to fight," I replied nervously.
"The way you walk, for one," Ranma replied. I shrugged before responding.
"Very well. Far be it from me to turn down a fairly offered challenge," I
replied, rather curtly. He nodded once and sat down again. I noticed that I
was getting stares, not only from Kuonji and Saotome, but from Tendou Akane as
well. Hiroshi and Daisuke glanced at me, mixed pity and disgust on their faces.
Sayuri and Yuka were also glaring at me angrily. I sighed. So much for trying
to go to school here quietly.
I was reaching the cafeteria door when a hand on my arm stopped me. I
turned to look into the eyes of Tendou Nabiki. A chill ran up my spine. She
recognized me.
"So, 'Tsu-Mu'," she said, a slight smirk on her face, "what brings you to
Furinkan High?" I winced at her tone, but managed to smile politely before
speaking. I was still hoping against hope she didn't _really_ recognize me.
"It is a requirement of my work visa," I replied. She nodded, obviously
filing this information away for future use.
"What about Shampoo," she asked. I sagged. She really had recognized me.
"What about her," I responded. I was growing weary of her questions.
"What does she think of you sending flowers to Ukyou?"
"It wasn't me," I snapped.
"I know," she replied airily.
"Then why . . . "
"You've changed, Mousse," she murmured. She was looking at me strangely,
as if seeing me for the first time. I grunted a slight acknowledgement. It was
then that I noticed that her hand was still on my arm. I gently pulled away and
began to walk down the hall. "Wait," she said. She stepped through the doors
and stepped up beside me. "Obviously, you don't want anyone to know who you
are," she said with a knowing smile.
"Was I that obvious, Tendou Nabiki," I said dryly, trying to hide the
anger in my voice. Her smile grew wider. I sighed and reached for my wallet.
"How much?" I muttered. She frowned in thought, looking at the ceiling.
"I'll tell you what. I'll keep your secret for now, but you owe me a
favor at a later date," she replied, smiling again. I blinked.
"Very well," I replied, a little non-plussed at her odd request. She
smiled brightly before she spoke again.
"So," she asked conversationally, "how badly will you lose against Ranma?"
I considered her question carefully before answering.
In the past, whenever I would fight Saotome, I would lose. This was a
simple fact. The not so simple reason is that I lost on purpose, at least
subconsciously. The way my mind saw it, if I ever allowed myself to actually
win against Saotome, the next logical step would be to challenge Shampoo for her
hand in marriage. I didn't want that. I wanted her to reject Saotome and
choose me because she loved me, not because she was obligated to.
Granted, I always tried hard against Saotome, don't get me wrong. He is
an _extremely_ skilled martial-artist. And that was the level I always met him
at. That of a martial-artist. But I am not a martial-artist first. I am a
warrior-mage first, and one of the clan Shen Lung. My skills are great, and have
been proven on the field of challenge.
My chi techniques are based on the Shen-Lung clan's personal martial arts,
the Shadow Dragon School. My hidden-weapons techniques draw from the most basic
lessons of this incredibly powerful school.
Like my chi assaults, my magic is primarily based on the element of void.
Elemental magic is based on the manipulation of the five elements - earth,
water, fire, air and void. Certain chi techniques utilize one or more of these
elements.
For example, Hibiki Ryouga's 'Bakusai Tenketsu', or 'Breaking Point'
technique is based on the element of earth, while his 'Shishi Hokoudan', or
'Roaring Lion Projectile', is based on the element of air.
Saotome Ranma uses the element of fire in his 'Moko Takabisha', or 'Fierce
Tiger Overbearing', while his most powerful technique, the 'Hiryu Shouten Ha',
or 'Rising Dragon Ascending to Heaven', utilizes fire, water, and air in a
devastating and lethal whirlwind assault.
My own chi and mana techniques focus on the final element, the element of
void. An extremely difficult and extremely dangerous school of magic, the
School of the Void focuses on stealth and long-distance attacks. With any luck,
I would be able to defeat Saotome without too much hassle.
So why was I always running around, challenging Saotome and harassing him
and his, only to lose? Well, in my blind stupidity, I thought that I had to
prove to Shampoo that I loved her, and the only way I knew to do that was to
fight Saotome relentlessly. Silly? Perhaps. But it was the way I was.
I sighed. This time would be different though. This time, it wasn't a
matter of Shampoo at all. It was a matter of honor. My reputation as a man was
nothing to me. I was a Joketsuzoku male. In the eyes of the tribe, men are
nothing. My reputation as a martial-artist was nothing as well, since I don't
consider myself to truly be a martial-artist.
But now my reputation as a human being and as a person had been sullied.
My personal honor had been besmirched. For that, I must fight with all my
might, without holding back. Without trying to lose. Not even for Shampoo.
Not this time. I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes.
"Let me give you a tip, Tendou Nabiki," I whispered, lowering my face so
that my nose almost touched hers. Her eyes bored into mine. "Don't bet on
Saotome." Her eyes widened. "He's going to lose," I whispered. I felt her
soft breath on my face. "It's a sure thing." Her eyes held mine. Gods, she
has beautiful ey-
I cut the thought off and stumbled back, gasping. Nabiki stared at me,
confusion flickering across her face for a brief second before her control
reasserted itself. She gazed at me impassively as I backed away.
"We'll see about that," she said flatly. "Ranma has never lost a match
yet." She paused, studying me for a moment. "Especially not to you."
"Well, don't say I didn't try to warn you," I muttered, still trying to
figure out what precisely had just happened to me. She sniffed and turned to
walk off. She paused for a moment to glance back at me. She seemed about to
say something, but before she could, two of her friends came out of the
cafeteria. Her friends glared at me as they walked toward Nabiki. I turned and
left, not interested in whatever they were discussing.
I made it to my next class with plenty of time to spare. My stomach
growled slightly, reminding me that I hadn't eaten lunch. I hadn't eaten
breakfast either, for that matter. I reached into my pocket and pulled an apple
out. Granted, the apple hadn't been there the moment before, but such is the
nature of my talent. I munched quietly on it while I scanned the softback
textbook I had picked up on the way in the door. As I sat there, a few students
came in, in twos and threes, chatting about this and that. Few noticed me, and
those who did either glared at me or ignored me. I sighed.
The rest of the school day was a blur. Classes came and went and my mind
was only on the clock. Finally, 15:00 rolled around. It took me a while to
find my locker, so most of the halls were clear by the time I stepped outside.
I walked quickly toward the soccer field, the preferred dueling ground at
Furinkan High. It seemed that the entire school had turned out for the match.
A 'Ranma Saotome Challenge' was a major, albeit common, event here, and
the vendors had their little carts set up, selling souvenirs, trinkets and food.
As I passed the betting booth, I did manage to overhear the odds being given on
the match, and was pleasantly surprised to hear that Tendou Nabiki was giving me
better-than-average odds against Saotome, though not as good as the odds she
gave Ryouga in one of their all-too-common matches.
The crowd parted to let me through. I heard a few boos and hisses as I
stepped onto the field. Saotome was there, silhouetted by the sun, his usual
cocky expression replaced by one of righteous anger. The look would have been
at home on Kunou Tatewaki's face. I was a little worried at this point, since I
would not be able to use any of my usual weapons-summoning techniques.
Otherwise, Saotome would know instantly who I was, and I still hoped to wrap
this up and get away without being recognized. He was dressed in his standard
Chinese-style garments. I was still wearing my dress pants and shirt. Not the
best thing to fight in, but it was all I had. I stepped toward him and stopped
about ten feet from him. Customarily, the challenger speaks first, but I chose
to speak before Saotome did.
"Saotome Ranma, you have impugned my honor as a man and as a warrior. You
have challenged me to combat to back your groundless accusations!" I snarled.
"Yeah, so let's get on with it," snapped Ranma, smacking his fist into his
palm. Before he could advance, I held out my hands, palms toward Ranma in a
halting gesture.
"Wait. We must outline the spoils of victory and the rules of
engagement." I paused for effect. "If I win, you must retract these baseless
charges you have made against my person." I was proud of my speech. My
inflections were cultured without being arrogant. They were also completely
different from my usual manner of speaking. Ranma smiled.
"And if I win, you will leave Furinkan and never return. And," he paused
menacingly, "if I ever hear about you coming near one of my friends again, I'll
make you wish you hadn't." I smiled. He frowned and continued. "As for the
rules," he said, smiling ironically, "anything goes."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, Saotome." I said. I looked to the
sidelines. Daisuke, dressed in a referee's uniform, stepped out from the crowd
and raised a red bandanna over his head.
"Ready," he called. I balanced on my toes, shifting back and forth
slowly. Ranma relaxed, sagging back into his usual attack posture.
"Set," Daisuke shouted. I tensed slightly. Ranma moved not a whit,
simply watching me.
"FIGHT!" Daisuke yelled, dropping the hand with the bandanna. He leapt
backwards as Saotome and I came together.
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Authors Notes:
This is my first *major* piece. It is also the one that has been the
best-received among my pre-readers. It is long, complicated, and probably not
worth the effort. But I like it, at least, I think it has the most potential.
I know Mousse is OOC. That's the point. :-)
Thanks to everyone who wrote in with comments and criticisms. Let me know
what you think of this revision.
ALL comments, criticisms, MST, etc, both public and private, are very much
welcomed by the author.
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