Check Back Later
A Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction
By MrThou
Disclaimer: I disclaim any ownership of the characters in this story. They were created by Rumiko Takahashi. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.
Chapter 1
The rain came down on Nerima. It was a perfectly ordinary rain; not particularly heavy, nor particularly light. It fell in a particularly downward direction -- as rain has a tendency to do -- and trickled through the streets to form particularly ordinary pools.
In fact the only way in which this rain was at all significant -- because, after all, it was just rain -- was in the effect it had on one Ranma Saotome, a short, busty redheaded girl who happens to be the main character of this hopefully humorous story.
Ranma Saotome, or as she preferred to be called, Ranma Joketsu(1)
), was, in fact, a rain goddess. It wasn't something she was consciously aware of, but it was still something she had to live with. Over the last few months, ever since a fight with a couple of Musk warriors took them too close to Jusenkyo, she had been almost constantly rained on. This was not because she called the rain. Rather, it was because the clouds themselves could sense Ranma's divinity, and followed her around worshiping her -- which, not coincidentally, involved much joyous downpour.
Over the last six months, Ranma had categorized over one hundred and ten different types of rain, and hated them all. The system covered the entire spectrum of rain: from the light, stinging sprinkle (#12, 13, & 15), to the blattering torrential downpour (#68 - 74). It included twelve varieties of drizzle (#99 - 110), fourteen different kinds of splattering (#1 - 11, 14, 16, 17; a very common rain type in mountainous China), and even the annoying, almost horizontal rains that accompany high winds, ranging from light (#64 - 66) to moderate (#83 & 84) to blindingly harsh (#92 - 98).
This particular rain was #115, a special rain that was a hybrid of types #42, 45, and 67. She was somehow certain the clouds had invented it just to celebrate her return to Japan. (As it turns out, she was right. The clouds were currently celebrating their equivalent of a homecoming, and decided to honor their deity with a freshly composed rainfall.) She especially hated all the rains above 100, since they all made seeing difficult, and seemed to be nothing more than creative variations on all the other types of precipitation she loathed.
Ranma had not seen the sun in almost a month. She was wet, cold, and without shelter. Needless to say, this made her a bit grumpy.
And so, she wandered down the street, gritting her teeth and enduring the number 115 precipitation, on her way to Furinkan High School.
And the clouds followed, weeping tears of joy and adoration on the head of their goddess(2).
At that particular moment, a crowd had gathered miserably in front of the steps of Furinkan. They were segregated, rather clearly, into two groups: those who were getting ready to fight, and those who were getting ready to watch the fight, but were too stupid to watch from inside the building (and out of the #115 rain).
A tall young man dressed in kendo garb was standing around, shouting orders and making threats, which the group sullenly obeyed. As the throng watched, more students filtered in, some circling the group carefully and entering the building, others stopping to swell the ranks of observers or fighters. A few of the brighter ones were holding umbrellas.
It should be pointed out that the group of fighters was completely male, although the observers were a mixed lot. This was not a coincidence.
This was the sight that greeted Ranma upon her arrival. She'd been involved in enough school brawls to see when a mob was spoiling for a fight. Granted, the situation was different, as she wasn't the object of their antagonism, but she could change that fairly easily, which would put her on more familiar ground.
She debated it for a half second, before remembering that the shortest distance between two points was a straight line. She was cold, wet, and grumpy, and if there were thirty or forty boys between her and the school doors, well...
She smirked, and whispered to herself, "Stress relief."
"Well boys," she called, dropping her bag and assuming a fighting stance, "are you gonna let me pass, or do things hafta get ugly?"
The kendoist looked her over breifly, and dismissed her. "Fear not, fair one, it is not you we are here to confront. You may go around, and we will not stop you."
Ranma's smirk transformed into a wicked grin. "Or I could just go right through you."
It was at that moment, naturally, that the mob's true target ran through the gates.
The target of the mob was a seventeen-year-old girl with long black hair, whose height was slightly greater than that of this story's protagonist, and whose bust size was slightly less. She probably would not take issue with the former. The latter, however, would likely offend her, if it were unduly flaunted(3). Her name was Akane Tendo, and she was currently angry.
This was not an unusual thing for her, although she had gotten better over the last year or so. Still, everyone knew her temper, by reputation if not by experience. Over the last two weeks, her temper had regressed noticeably, for a very simple reason: The Challenge.
The Challenge was a very simple concept, presented by a very simple mind. As one Tatewaki Kuno had pompously declared, "If you can defeat Akane Tendo in combat, you may date with her. I will permit no other terms."
Sound familiar?
The Challenge was rather unoriginal. It had very little to recommend it, and much Empirical Evidence that said it was a very bad idea. Empirical Evidence, in fact, said that what is about to happen, happened repeatedly about a year ago, under much the same circumstances. Since nobody was listening to him--or for that matter--to common sense, reason, logic, or any of Evidence's other siblings, they gave up, and joined the intelligent boys and girls inside the school(4).
"I hate boys...Hate boys...Hate Boys...HATE BOYS!!!" And with that, she charged through the gate, tossing her umbrella to the side.
She noticed a short, redheaded girl in worn Chinese clothing jumping quickly out of her way. Akane didn't have time to worry about her, however, as she was assaulted from three sides by a hoard of boys.
She charged at the nearest group, jumping into the air and kicking out at several attackers. She landed, grabbing an outstretched arm and throwing its owner at the group closing from behind. Whirling and dodging, throwing punches and the occasional well-placed kick, she worked her way through the mob.
About half way through, she noticed she was not alone. The little redhead had joined in, and was bouncing around like a superball on speed, scattering all who approached her. There was something familiar about her style, but Akane just shrugged it off. She had more important things to deal with.
Those more important things were finished about a minute later, thus proving Empirical Evidence -- who had stopped by again briefly to gloat -- to be correct. Akane stopped to toss her long ponytail over her shoulder, then she turned and glared at the redhead.
"I didn't need your help," she said angrily.
The redhead shrugged, unperturbed, and brushed away the hair that was plastered to her face. Akane idly noticed that she wore her hair in a braided pigtail. "Nah, you didn't. But it's selfish ta hog all the fun, don't cha think?" and she winked. She toed a boy who was lying in front of her, rolling him over. "Light entertainment, though," she said deprecatingly.
It was then that the kendoist made an attempt at a dramatic entrance. The effect was completely lost, in light of his wet and bedraggled appearance. He persevered, however, in the face of such adversity, as befitted one of his station. He threw something at Akane, but the shorter girl intercepted it.
"A rose, for me?" and she fluttered her eyelids outrageously. "You shouldn't have, really. I mean, we just met."
The boy smiled at her, oblivious to the sarcasm(5). "Nay, fair one, it was a gift for the lovely and fierce Akane Tendo."
Akane bristled. "Well Upperclassman, shall we get on with it? Or are you going to spout some bad poetry first?"
The redhead looked over at her and mumbled "Tendo?" Akane ignored her, and focused on the Kendoist.
"Very well, Miss Tendo. For your sake, I shall defeat you, and then you may date with me."
The redhead jumped between them. "What the hell is goin' on?" She turned to the kendoist. "What type of honorless bastard fights women so he can date 'em?."
A flash of anger crossed the boy's face, to be replaced a moment later by haughty amusement. He pointed his bokuto at her. "Know this, girl. You stand before the greatness of Tatewaki Kuno, reigning high school Tokyo Kendo champion, and the one called Blue Thunder of Furinkan High. I give you a choice. Flee, or fight." With that, he stabbed his practice sword heavenward, and lightning flashed, and thunder pealed.
From a first floor window, a girl with shoulder length brown hair poked her head out and shouted, "Hey, Kuno-chan, get a better name. What ever happened to 'Shooting Star'." And she laughed.
Kuno pretended not to hear, but the redhead didn't miss it.
She laughed. "Very well, oh mighty Blue Thunder. Look upon a master of the Jusendo school of wu-shu, sixth dan kempo, champion of the Chinese Amazons. I am Ranma Joketsu, and I give you the option. Flee, or fight."
Kuno screamed, and charged at Ranma. Her hand lashed out, deflecting the wooden practice sword. The other arm came up, and landed a punch to his sword arm and an oddly percussive blow to his chest. Ranma whirled away, and Kuno froze in place.
Everyone stared.
His sword clattered to the ground, and the crowd gasped.
With a ponderous motion, Tatewaki Kuno waved his arms and toppled over, looking for all the world like he was trying to fly. The results of his attempt were somewhat lacking, however, as he completely and utterly failed to miss the ground. He made up for it slightly by remembering to miss his consciousness.
The bell rang.
The rain continued to fall.
"SHIT!" the redhead shouted. I'm late!" With that, she picked up her bag, and ran into the building, leaving Akane and the others staring in her wake.
School had always been difficult for Ranma. This was not because she was stupid -- although certain people would argue that she was. It was, rather, because she hardly ever got to attend. It had nothing to do with martial arts, or so her father said, and so, it was therefore useless. She had gone to school only to fulfill the laws requirements that she do so.
As a result, Ranma was behind the class. Actually, that didn't even begin to cover it. Although she could read and write -- in both Japanese and Mandarin, and even a bit of English -- her grammar was sloppy, she had no concept of the sciences, and she couldn't solve anything harder than basic arithmetic and algebra.
All this was of course blamed on the Chinese school system, as Ranma's falsified records proclaimed her to be an exchange student.
She arrived late to class after filling out some paperwork at the office. The teacher stopped her droning for a moment as Ranma approached him and handed him a sheet of paper.
"Class," the homeroom teacher said, reading the slip, "we have a new student today. She's an exchange student from China, so be sure to help her if she has any questions. Now let's give her a big Nihao welcome."
Ranma was familiar with this procedure. She'd gone to many different schools while she was with her father, and every time had to go through this same dumb introduction. She decided that this time would be a bit different. She assumed an empty-headed expression.
"Nihao, I is Ranma Joketsu," she said in a stereotypical Chinese fashion. "Ranma is too too happy to be here in Japan. Is very different from Amazon village."
Someone in the back row snickered.
"Hey. You no make fun of Ranma, or else what happen outside today, happen to you." She then struck a ridiculous fighting stance, and the class burst out laughing.
Ranma dropped the Chinese accent and grinned. "Well, you should hear what a Japanese accent sounds like in Mandarin. It ain't pretty."
"Well, Miss Joketsu, thank you for that performance," the teacher said. "Now why don't you take that seat over there, by Miss Tendo."
And so class got back under way, and Ranma opened her grammar book, turned to the appropriate page, and tried to follow along in class. She failed utterly, most likely due to the fact that the teacher was teaching math.
Akane Tendo was standing in the hall, a bucket in each hand, and seething in frustration. A large part of her aggravation was standing to her left, also holding two buckets, whistling softly. That person was Ranma Joketsu.
The incident that had landed her in the hall started innocently enough. Everyone was curious about the new girl, and started to furiously pass notes to Ranma. Where did she get that ring? Was she single? Available? What about that pigtail? Was her hair naturally red, or dyed? Of course, Akane could only guess at the contents of the notes; it would have been rude to actually read them.
Akane herself was fairly curious. Where did she learn the Anything Goes style? As far as she knew, there were only two families that practiced it, and the heir to the other family's school was dead. Or so she had been told. Did this girl know Uncle Saotome? Her style seemed remarkably similar. Come to think about it, didn't Uncle have a son named Ranma? She kept glancing over at the redhead. And why was she reading her grammar book in math class?
After relaying several notes from other girls to Ranma, Akane was surprised to have one handed back. She read it to herself.
"Ranma, watch out for Akane. I think she likes you."
It would be easy to jump to the conclusion that Akane Tendo was gay, however fallacious that would be. After all, she didn't have a boyfriend. She repeatedly turned down the advances of Upperclassman Kuno, who was widely regarded as the most popular boy in school. In fact, she regularly professed her hatred of boys in general. If she didn't like boys, obviously she must like girls.
Akane Tendo, of course, loudly denounced this claim. Most people were smart enough not to say anything to her face after one boy was given a dislocated shoulder and a broken pubic arch for publicly calling her a lesbian. It didn't change many opinions, but it did quiet the gossip that reached her ears.
Obviously, though, natural selection had missed one idiot. Akane abruptly stood up and started to glow, determined to correct nature's oversight.
An eraser had hit the side of her head, and the teach cried, "Tendo! Buckets, hall. Now!"
And that was how she ended up in the hall, doing bucket duty.
Ranma joined her in the hall a few minutes later.
Akane was already feeling a bit upset, so she said the first thing that popped in her head, regardless of whether it made sense or not. Fortunately, it was at least coherent.
"This is all your fault."
"Oh, well, if you say so... It ain't important, anyway."
"Because you were... wait. What did you say?"
"It's my fault."
"Oh. Well, so long as we agree..."
Ranma started laughing.
Akane was not accustomed to being laughed at. So she said, "So tell me, why were you reading your grammar book in math class?"
Ranma looked at her with a strange expression on her face. "It wasn't grammar class?"
"No."
"You're sure?"
"Positive."
"It was math class, and not grammar class?"
"Yes." Akane was a bit annoyed. "Why do you keep asking? Are 'yes' and 'no' too difficult for you?"
"Nah, I just like bein' annoying."
"..." was the best reply Akane could come up with.
Nothing happened for a moment. Then it happened again. After the third time Ranma got annoyed and decided to stop nothing from happening again.
"So. I bet you're wonderin' where I learned Anything Goes, right?"
Akane nodded.
"Good, well, 'cause I'm wonderin' the same thing. So. You know Doctor Tofu? Good. Um. Meet me at his clinic after school, okay?"
"Why not just tell me now?"
The bell rang, and Ranma grinned. "That's why."
The door chose that moment to swing open violently. It was followed too closely by a mob of students, and decided to protect itself by rebounding off the wall and into said mob. This in turn made the wall rather upset, and it retaliated by letting go of the door frame.
The resulting collision between the door and the floor did not really upset either of them, but it did upset Ranma and Akane, as the door took a strange bounce and smacked into Ranma's bucket.
A wet Ranma just looked up at the ceiling, and said "Well, at least it can't get any worse(6)."
Outside, lightning lit up the sky, and thunder rumbled ominously.
A boy at the front of the mob slipped on the expanding pool of moisture and skidded right into the far wall. Another boy tried to avoid him, and succeeded, but in the process knocked over a girl, who fell backward into another.
One by one, like human dominoes, the boys and girls fell, until one managed to fall sideways and into Ranma, who fell into Akane, who dropped her buckets.
Back onto Ranma(7).
"... Why me?" Ranma tried to get up, and slipped, getting more soaked in the process. "Help?"
(1) Serious note here. Joketsu means 'courageous woman'. Zoku can mean family or tribe. So Joketsuzoku literally means courageous women tribe. Or as Viz translates it, Amazons.
(2) Actually, clouds express emotions in much the same way that Soun Tendo does.
(3) This is called foreshadowing.
(4) They then encountered the Principle, and promptly left the city altogether.
(5) Of course, most would contend that Kuno is simply oblivious, and Ranma and Akane would certainly agree.
(6) Well, that was a mistake.
(7) It is a well-known law of all Ranmaverses that water will inevitably find its way onto Ranma, regardless of form, and usually in ridiculous and ludicrous ways and quantities.
Author's notes:
Well, that concludes the first chapter of Check Back Later. If you are lost or confused, don't feel too bad. You don't know what's going on because it hasn't been explained yet.
Actually, I've been kicking this idea around for almost six months, but I could never figure out exactly how I wanted to write it. Recently, I was reading "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy", and came up with the prologue. Comedy seemed to be the way to go.
If you are looking for some central plot of epic scale, you can stop now. There isn't one, and if there is, it's entirely coincidental. I reserve the right to deny or clarify the previous sentence.
Revised on 01/19/2001.
Comments welcome, flames ignored. If you're going to rip apart my story, at least be constructive.
