Ranma and company are the property of Rumiko Takahashi. So with
further ado Montanto Productions proudly presents.
The Talented Ms Kuonji
A Ranma Short-fic
By Bill Morse
"I didn't think it would end like this," she said softly
as she lay the flowers down on the grave.
Ranma quietly nodded in agreement.
The Kuonji family grave was a rather unimpressive piece of gray
marble in the corner of the cemetery. The morning fog obscured the smoke from
the dwindling incense sticks.
"I wish we could have come earlier," she continued,
"I would have liked to have met Ukyou's family."
"Nah, that wouldn't have been right," Ranma mumbled.
"Too many memories."
"You're right, of course. Still, I can't help feeling guilty.
We were rivals and we fought terribly but we were good friends too. If only I
could swim, I could have saved her! They weren't even able to find her body! I
wish we hadn't gone on that boating trip!" She fell to her knees sobbing.
"There, there, Akane. It could have happened to anyone. It's
in the past," Ranma knelt down beside her and holding her by the
shoulders. "C'mon, buck up. Uchan wouldn't want to see you hurting that
way."
"Oh Ranma!" she cried embracing her fiancée,
hugging him. Ranma held on to her until she stopped crying. Unable to contain
herself she reached up and kissed him.
After what felt like an eternity they paused for air. Ranma
studied his fiancée's face as he passed his fingers through her hair.
"Say, Akane."
"Yes, Ranma?"
"Have you lost weight or something? I can't put my finger on
it but you look . . . different."
"Are you calling me fat?" she said slowly.
"No, no, ah jeesh you're taking this the wrong way, maybe
it's your makeup.
It's, ah . . ."
"Oh, so now you're saying I'm ugly. That I had to doll myself
up to meet your standards."
"Ah, c'mon Akane. You know I don't mean it that way. You're
misunderstanding everything."
"So now I'm stupid?"
"No! It's"
"RANMA NO BAKA!!!!"
She watched as he sailed across the horizon. The trajectory was
still a bit off. No matter how long she practiced she just couldn't get used to
the heft of the mallet. It was so heavy and cumbersome not graceful like say. .
. a spatula.
Ranma's Fiancée passed her fingers through her freshly cut
hair. "I hate to do that to you Ranchan, but you're mine at last, and
we'll be together forever.
"Even if you are a baka," she said, catching herself.