The Way of the Hero by Tannim Murphy
Disclaimer: Just about every character in this fic doesn't belong to me. They belong to the various people who own them. The character that DOES belong to me is half mine, and the other half was given to me to play with by Metroanime. If you would like to borrow him too, just ask. Other characters mentioned in this work that belong to Metroanime are used with his permission. Go read his stuff, it's good.
Chapter 1
---
14. I will explain to my Legions of Terror that guns are ranged weapons and swords are not. Anyone who attempts to throw a sword at the hero or club him with a gun will be summarily executed.
-Peter's List of Things I'd do if I Ever Became an Evil Overlord
---
Setsuna Meiou, better known as Sailor Pluto, was not having a good day. Even if you couldn't exactly define the time spent at the Time Gate day or night, it just seemed appropriate for the occasion to make an exception.
Sure, the image of Crystal Tokyo was still shining brightly. There was no flickering as a warning of loss. This had nothing to do with Setsuna's current mood.
She had been trying to follow Ryoga Hibiki.
The Senshi of Time reasoned with herself that discovering weather or not the boy was an ally or an enemy was sufficient reason to use the time gate.
How that boy could manage to lose himself so often was a mystery to the Sailor.
It seemed that in any given moment of time, he could change in a random direction that would take him further from his goal. The boy was SO oblivious, that sometimes he missed where he was trying to get to simply because he didn't look up.
This scene was repeated. Over and over. No matter what part of his past she looked at, it seemed he was lost somewhere.
It was getting ridiculous.
Finally, her persistence paid off. She found him inside what looked to be a traditional Japanese home, sitting in front of what might have been called food. The stuff was on a plate, at least. The fact the substance was attempting to remove itself from said plate could argue the case against it being edible. Ryoga was wearing a strained smile as he picked up his chopsticks.
"By Queen Serenity and all that is Good!" muttered Setsuna in abject horror. "Is he really going to 'eat' that stuff?"
The answer was, apparently, yes. The Sailor of Time could not understand what possessed this young man to torture himself so. Maybe this was some sort of training? He seemed to be the martial artist type to her, and Setsuna KNEW what lengths those people went to 'further' themselves. She'd never seen training like this before, though. In the several millennia she'd been standing guard over the Gate, that was saying something.
As Setsuna watched the events that transpired around the Tendo Dojo, the worry at the pit of her stomach grew.
---
In Another Dimension All Together... We'll call it Timeline 2...
5 years ago...
Tannim Murphy of Northern California just had his fourteenth birthday, and doing what most fourteen year olds his age were doing: Playing video games. For some reason, he seemed exceptionally gifted at them. The boy's reflexes were nothing short of astounding, even if he had no interest in sports. He was able to pick up any patterns in whatever game he was playing at the time, and use them to his advantage in seconds.
Currently, he was on level 30 of "Time Warriors 2: Time Warp." Tannim's character was flickering back and forth on the screen, while his two friends looked on in awe. The boy didn't have many friends, and was content with the few close friends he did have. This might mean he didn't get many presents on his birthday, but is also guaranteed that those presents would be of the highest quality. Each friend knew that whatever they got each other would be shared implicitly.
What the boy didn't know is that a special spell resided in him. This spell, however, was failing. The person who cast the spell depended on ambient energy to power it, but since it was thrown into another dimension, the energy just wasn't there. It was designed to start working around the age of 14, and over a period of years slowly give memories of a past life. Since it had virtually no power left, the semi-sentient spell, in a last- ditch effort, decided to give all the memories at once.
Tannim froze, glazed over eyes unheeding the television screen. All his attention was focused internally, where something strange was going on.
He was Remembering.
'Moon Kingdom?'
'Princesses of planets?'
'Knights of emotions?'
'What was a Sailor Senshi anyway?'
'Whoa, those are some SHORT skirts.'
'Who is Basalt?'
'My mentor?'
'I haven't seen him before.'
'Mom?'
'Dad?'
'Those aren't MY parents.'
'Important mission?'
'Knight of Desperation?'
'Hematite?'
'That's not my name.'
'That's not my life.'
'That's not me.'
'That's NOT ME.'
"THAT'S NOT ME!" screamed Tannim, clutching his head. The controller had slipped through his nerveless fingers moments before.
It was hard to tell weather it was fortunate or not the spell succeeded.
---
Sometime later, Tannim awoke to find himself in the nearby hospital. As soon as he tried to sit up, pain exploded in his head. It felt as if his mind was on fire. It was the kind of pain that a person received when they've had a lifetime's worth of memories suddenly shoved into their head. Duncan McLeod could sympathize. With a groan, he let himself fall back down on the pillow.
"Tannim, are you all right?"
The boy cracked his eyes open to see his father's worried face hovering over him. For a brief second, he couldn't recognize the man. A picture of a different person being his father superimposed itself over the stranger looking down at him. Tannim quickly blinked, dispelling the image.
"What was I thinking?" The boy berated himself mentally. "MY father is right here."
"Yeah, dad. I'm fine," croaked Tannim. He was mentally exhausted and his head swam with memories. It seemed that he was two people now.
One, Tannim, the boy who had grown up for the most part innocent. He dreamed of magic, and science. Both were equal wonders to him. A dreamer who read more books than most adults.
The other, Hematite, older by five years than Tannim but still a kid at heart. However, he grew up in preparation for war. Almost since birth, Hematite had been trained in the Arts of Combat. He was gifted with the powers of the Knight of Desperation, even at his relatively young age, due to sheer potential. He died in battle against invading forces, using all his strength and cunning. Cunning, mostly, because he wasn't very powerful. Surprisingly, to Tannim at least, Hematite seemed to have led a relatively happy life. Even as he died. Apparently fighting for one's beliefs was very fulfilling.
Training is fun, even if my father was terribly strict at times.
Tannim shook his head sharply. That wasn't HIS thought. It was becoming difficult to tell Hematite's memories from his own.
The boy paused. Wasn't this the kind of thing he'd always wished would happen to him? Reading fantasy books, and sci-fi novels, did a lot for the boy's imagination. Sometimes, late at night, he'd wish for something exciting like this to happen to him. Why not embrace it?
Things got interesting...
---
The Next Morning...
"What are we going to do now?" asked Hematite mentally. "This is pretty strange to me. We've got a lot of stuff to think about. I-"
"Oh, hush," interrupted Tannim out loud. "Right now, we're not going to think. We're going to watch TV. I don't think I can handle thinking."
"Tee Vee? That's the glowing box with changing pictures on it, right? Reminds me of a VC."
"TV stands for television. What does Vee Cee stand for?"
"Viewing Crystal, what else? Only it projected the pictures directly into your mind. This is pretty crude in comparison."
"Oh. Well, be quiet while I look for something good to watch."
The hospital had cable, and Tannim was gleefully flipping channels to see shows he normally missed.
Hey, being sick had it's perks.
He heard there was a new line-up of cartoons on USA that extended to after school started. USAM, USA in the morning, he thought they called it. This was too prime an opportunity to be missed.
8:30 finally rolled around. Now he'd be able to see whatever the big deal was about. He'd heard it was some imported show from Japan. Some new weird cartoon that was popular.
The opening animation was good. Better than most cartoons of the time anyway. The girls in short skirts didn't hurt. Going through puberty will do that to you.
"I think I've seen that girl somewhere before..." muttered Hematite mentally to himself.
"Mmm... Short skirts..."
Tannim wasn't really paying attention.
"...that particular hairstyle..."
"...REALLY short skirts..."
Paying attention would have cost too much.
"...I've seen someone wearing it..."
"...nice, long legs..."
Puberty was hitting Tannim like a sledgehammer.
"...possibly by..."
"...very cute girls..."
Thus, you can understand why he was startled by what happened next.
"QUEEN SERENITY AND ALL THAT IS GOOD!"
Tannim was shaken out of his hormone-induced trance. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"
"That's... Those are the Sailor Senshi!"
Drawing upon Hematite's memories, the boy discovered what was upsetting the voice inside his head.
"Didn't they... Die? What the heck are they doing as a cartoon?"
"I don't know! I'm just the collective memories of a warrior from a kingdom that was most likely destroyed, reduced to being a voice inside someone's head! How the hell should I know?!"
"Now, if I had seen this show BEFORE you came along, I'd start to doubt my sanity."
"I'm starting to doubt my entire existence... Are you SURE you're not insane?"
"Nope," replied Tannim off-handedly. "Maybe someone else got memories like me and decided to turn their memories into profit?"
"But... I'm certain that anyone with memories from the Moon Kingdom would NEVER stoop to such... Such..."
"Blatant disregard for skirt height?" offered Tannim helpfully.
"No, the skirts are accurate..." muttered Hematite. "The only person I could think that would do something like this is Obsidian. But he'd most likely not bother."
"Hold up, check out the show. Does that look like the Moon Kingdom to you, or a modern-day city?"
"They seem to match your memories of what a city looks like, if a bit differently. Where is it, I wonder?"
"Probably Tokyo," said Tannim. He paused for a moment in silent contemplation. "Yep, they're driving on the wrong side of the road. And I heard this show comes from Japan. Makes sense."
"What are we going to do now?"
"Watch the show, and see if we can't discover why you're in my head."
A few moments passed as Tannim and Hematite watched the television.
"Okay, those voices are reeeeeeally irritating," said Tannim. "They sound like adults poorly imitating teenagers."
"Agreed. I just hope we'll be able to stand it long enough to figure out what's going on."
---
Timeline 1
Present...
Ranma was dressed in his casual clothes today, an oversized blue Chinese shirt with the sleeves rolled back, with loose-fitting black pants and slippers. Not that this was different from what he wore most of the time. In fact, it was often remarked that he rarely went anywhere without wearing something Chinese.
What most people didn't know was that Ranma was wearing Chinese clothes as a fashion statement. Perhaps it was closer to a protest. In wearing Chinese clothing, Ranma was stating to the world, subconsciously, that he would rather be in China than Japan right now. The fact that the clothing was both comfortable and practical was a bonus.
Today, he was attempting to relax. School wasn't in session right now, so he couldn't relax there. The martial artist decided to spend some downtime in the mall, surrounded by people. To Ranma, it was very comforting to be surrounded by people.
Specifically, surrounded by people not trying to kill him.
It was a relief to the martial artist to discover that there were, in fact, many people in this world that didn't want to either marry him, kill him, or use him to make money. They had hopes and dreams that didn't involve one Ranma Saotome. Just to wander around and soak in the indifferent feelings always refreshed the pig-tailed boy. Many an afternoon he'd wander around in one, not really thinking about anything, just feeling the flow of humanity swirl around him. He'd use his hyper-sensitive senses, that were normally attuned to people with malevolent feelings toward him, to experience the relaxing sensations of idle curiosity, random chit-chat, and clusters of friends moving about him.
It felt great.
The entire afternoon went by, and not a single person bothered him. Apparently going as far as the mall in Juuban had been a good idea.
---
It was Saturday. School was out. This meant one thing for the Inner Senshi, Warriors of Love and Justice, Protectors of Good, Enemy of Evil.
They were about to go Shopping.
Yes, it was the normal schoolgirl thing to do. Yes, it was terribly cliché. But that's exactly why they did it every chance they got. It was bad enough they had to fight youmas, keep up a secret identity, and go to school. They felt they deserved a bit of normalcy every now and then.
And they were determined to live life to it's dessert, as Minako was fond of saying.
Usagi was standing in the middle of the line, being flanked immediately on either side by Rei on the right, and Ami on the left. Makoto and Minako took both ends of the line, right and left respectively. It was an unconscious parody of their normal battle formation.
It was nearing the end of the shopping day, and almost time to start going home. Each girl was loaded with at least one bag of stuff as they decided to sit down and have something to eat.
Well, Usagi decided she was hungry and couldn't be stopped.
As the group neared the food court, they discovered to their dismay that it was packed with eating people. It was sheer luck that at the time they arrived, a large group of six decided to leave. Unfortunately, a boy wearing Chinese clothes, two women wearing strange bikinis, and another boy who was pretty short, all spotted the table at the same moment.
The combatants looked at the table, then at each other. Tension hung thick in the air as the respective groups eyed each other. An unspoken signal was passed as everyone involved broke out in a mad dash to determine the victor.
The Sailor Senshi had an advantage in numbers, as they practically knocked everyone over in their way to the table. The Lovely Angels had combat experience, leaving a trail of devastation in their path. Keiichi, well, didn't have much; but he was pretty close to the table to begin with. Ranma was able to by-pass the problem of the crowd by head-hopping his way from across the plaza.
Keiichi was halted in his attempts to reach the open chairs. A group of football players practically knocked the little man over as they brushed by him.
The two women fighting together lost themselves in the heat of combat, and drifted off course.
The Sailor Senshi, with Makoto in the lead, were the first to make it to the chairs. They spread out as they claimed their seating.
Free of the football players, Keiichi was very close to the last seat. However, before he could take the three steps needed, a young man seemed to fall from the sky and land with himself sitting in the previously open chair.
Keiichi grumbled to himself as he went off to search for somewhere else to sit.
The Senshi were staring at the young man; Minako and Makoto with a kind of lust, Rei with a sort of agitation, Ami with a calculating look, and Usagi with studied indifference. She already had her Mamo-chan.
All of these looks washed over Ranma. The martial artist didn't even feel them. He was too busy congratulating himself on a job well done.
Ami was the first to speak up. "How did you do that?" she asked, resisting an impulse to grab her computer.
Ranma turned and beamed a dazzling smile toward the cute girl who vaguely reminded him of someone he knew. For some odd reason, various blunt objects sprung to mind, but he quickly ignored himself.
"Lots and lots of training," replied Ranma. It was his standard reply.
"So, you're a martial artist then?" asked Makoto. Maybe she could get him to teach her sometime.
Ranma puffed out his chest slightly. "I'm the best there is!"
Some small portion in the back of Ranma's mind was valiantly trying to warn himself about the dangers of talking to girls over extended periods of time, but it never had a chance. Ranma's own obliviousness about almost anything not pertaining martial arts served as a buffer between his conscious self and the small part of him who knew the dangers that women were.
The fact that they were all devastatingly cute did slightly worry him, however.
Minako eagerly contributed to the conversation, slightly irritated that Makoto got in a word before her. "I heard there are a bunch of martial artists in Nerima that could easily beat anyone else in the world."
"That's just a rumor," scoffed Rei. She secretly wondered if her Handsome Rescuer (which he was now dubbed in her mind) was from there. The fire reading she had done the night afterwards had, strangely, only showed two things. A compass whose needle was continually spinning, and a cute black piglet wearing a yellow spotted bandana. The Shinto priestess wondered what they meant. She continued aloud, "They also say that one of the martial artists is a guy who can turn into a girl."
"We're famous?" asked Ranma in his usual tact. He was surprised by this revelation. Sure, he wanted to be the best, but it never occurred to him what kind of publicity he'd get.
Conversation grounded to an abrupt halt. Stunned silence reigned supreme over the table for a few moments as everyone stared at the martial artist.
"You mean... The stories are true?" Usagi asked tentatively.
"It depends on what ya heard," said Ranma nervously.
"There really can't be someone who can change genders at will, can there?" asked Ami.
Ranma looked very uncomfortable. "No, not at will, not really."
"How about a panty-stealing black piglet?" asked Rei.
"The little pig's a jerk, but he doesn't steal panties," said Ranma.
"Oh."
Ranma continued, "there's a dirty old man who does that."
"So, which one of the martial artists are you?" questioned Minako.
As if on cue, one of the passing patrons carrying a very full glass of nice, cool, ice water, was jostled a bit too much and a large portion of the drink was heaped upon a certain pig-tailed boy.
Hence the damp, irritated, and slightly embarrassed pig-tailed girl.
Stunned silence ruled with an iron fist over the table once more. Eyeballs threatened to come out of the sockets of most the Senshi, and this time Ami DID grab her computer.
Before any questions were asked or scans made, a large explosion erupted from further down the mall.
"Help! It's another youma attack!"
"Run for your lives!"
"Mommy mommy, lookit the big purple monster!"
Ranma felt very relieved. This was probably the one of the few times in her life where she was GLAD something was attacking, even if the attack wasn't directed at her.
"Uh-oh, looks like something I need to deal with, talk to you all later, bye!" said Ranma all in a rush. Before she could be trapped or hit with a mallet, the martial artist leapt up from her chair and bounded over the intervening crowed. Her trajectory brought her to land right in front of the rampaging youma.
For the youma, this was a new experience. In all of it's experiences (the entire ten minutes of its existence) humans generally ran away from it. Now, here was a human standing fearlessly in front of it with a smirk on their face. And that human was female.
This could only mean one thing.
The youma pointed an accusing finger at Ranma. "You're one of those Sailor Senshi chicks, ain'tcha? I heard about youse guys!" spoke the youma in impossibly accented Brooklyn Japanese.
An animalistic growl of irritation escaped from Ranma's throat, unconsciously tapping into a small part of the Neko-ken. She angrily grabbed a thermos out of what looked to be thin air, and poured the almost- scalding water upon herself, triggering the transformation. The martial artist had fought Mousse enough times that he was able to duplicate the blind duck's technique rather well. Even if he didn't use weapons, the Hidden Weapons technique was very useful for carrying hot water.
"No, I'm not with those short-skirted, weapons-using, magic-toting, fuku- clad, hero-wannabes!" shouted Ranma in indignation. "I'm Ranma Saotome of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts, Ass-Kicker ta those who think they can steal Akane away from me by force, and the Destroyer of the Phoenix Saffron!" Ranma could admit privately to himself that the last bit might have been going a bit overboard, but he'd be DAMNED if he was going to let those Sailor Senshi give all the speeches.
Ah. Now she was a human male. Nothing to worry about. "I'z gonna drain youse of your powahs!"
"Try it, buddy! I DARE ya!" A soft blue glow surrounded Ranma as he idly cracked his knuckles.
The martial artist felt a tugging sensation, akin to what Miss Hinako's ki draining technique, but far less powerful. It was child's play to keep his energy from being drained from his body. Granted, someone who didn't have his kind of ki control would have been drained easily, but he wasn't Ranma Saotome for nothing.
"That all ya got?" smirked Ranma. "Lemme return the favor."
The purple-clad youma looked dumbly at the martial artist. "Hey, no fair!"
"Try THIS on for fair! HIYA!" cried Ranma as he shot forward to land a powerful blow on the youma's chest. The youma flew back several feet, crashing into a nearby wall without going through it.
"I'll get youse for that!" bellowed the youma as it picked itself up from the ground, seemingly unaffected by the blow.
"Yer gonna hafta catch me first!" shouted Ranma as he literally ran circles around the irritated monstrosity.
"We won't let youma like you disrupt peaceful shoppers! A Champion of Justice, I am Sailor Moon! In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!" Usagi recited for what seemed to her the hundredth time. The rest of the Senshi made agreeing noises as they prepared themselves, not really paying attention to what their 'fearless leader' was saying. The spectacle in front of them had that effect on people.
Too bad the youma wasn't paying attention to Usagi's speech either. It might have been impressed. It was too busy trying to swat the annoying bug that was Ranma Saotome. The martial artist was bouncing around the youma faster than the combined sugar high of a class full of second graders.
The first 'Fire Soul Bird' from the Sailor Senshi finally gained the attention of the beast. The creature roared in defiance as it settled for firing several dark energy blasts in the direction of the fuku-clad super heroines. While most of the Senshi were able to jump out of the way, Sailor Venus was still stunned at the sight of such a handsome young boy taking on a youma by himself she wasn't paying as much attention as she should have. By the time she noticed the attack, all she could do was brace herself for the impact.
First, came the sensation of pain. Then flight. Then, Venus suddenly felt one of the few sensations she actively sought out: the arms of a strong man holding her tightly. Her body even threw in the sensation of him doing something normally inappropriate, but something she approved of all the same. Namely, she felt a hand firmly gripping her right breast. Life was good for a few moments.
Ranma gently set Venus down. In self-defense, the martial artist's brain was choosing to ignore exactly where he had grabbed her, in case the girl wouldn't notice either. The girl hadn't hit him, so he hadn't done anything wrong, his brain reasoned with himself. Thus he continued on without alerting the higher consciousness to the trouble he might be in.
"Wait!" cried the blushing Venus as Ranma jumped toward the youma. "You can't hurt it by hitting it!"
Ranma flipped in mid-jump, somehow managing to twist his body while reversing his momentum, to land in front of the Senshi.
"Really? No matter how hard I hit it, I can't kill it?" asked Ranma with a strange look in his eyes.
Venus looked slightly nervous. "Um, yeah. That's right."
Ranma looked down, his fists clenched together. His shoulders were silently shaking.
Venus reached out a tentative hand to comfort the obviously distressed young man. "I'm, you've, done a, well... You tried-"
"BWAHAHAHA!" Ranma cackled toward the heavens as he raised his fists in triumph. "Finally! A punching bag that won't break! THANK YOU KAMI- SAMA!"
Venus was left stunned as the pig-tailed martial artist disappeared from in front of her to reappear in front of the youma.
"Hi there! Thanks for being my sparring partner!" Ranma gave a quick head bow toward the youma.
"Huh? What?" replied the obviously confused youma. "Sparring partner?"
"Sure. I've always wanted to try out a few techniques. I just couldn't find anything that would stay solid or alive till the end of them."
That's when the youma's world exploded in pain.
---
Five Minutes Ago...
Akane was in a good mood.
Akane was cooking.
As things went, this usually meant pain for our favorite martial artist, but since he wasn't here maybe he'd be spared this time.
Ah, there's the ominous thunder, right on cue.
On a scale of one to ten on the Akane Cooking Factor, this was beginning to look like an 11. Half-cooked and burnt meat lay scattered about the kitchen, some of it on plates. The lettuce had been thoroughly washed in turpentine, and the salad dressing was composed of varnish, cooking oil, and something from an unmarked bottle she found underneath the sink. Bits of sugar had somehow wormed it's way onto the dessert, though purely by accident. Most of the confection was covered in salt, baking soda, and anything else white she could find around the kitchen. To top it off, most of the almost un-recognizable produce was covered in something that was, quite frankly, un-recognizable. And glowed slightly. All in all, this wouldn't have been so bad if Akane hadn't decided to take on the difficult job of cooking Western food. Since she only knew vaguely what it looked like, and nothing of what it tasted like, she was improvising more than normal.
Hence the extra point on the Akane Disaster Chart.
Nabiki wasn't worried. She had at least three alibis ready for dinner, and was prepared to make up more excuses on the spot. She also had contingency plans made out for Kasumi and her father, in case Ranma didn't get home in time to be the first one to try Akane's cooking. Even if it was looking more and more like Ranma might have a better chance of surviving throwing himself on hot lava. At least that was a relatively quick death.
Currently, she was channel surfing. All of the accounts had been added up earlier this week, and there weren't any major money schemes going on, so she was free to do whatever she wanted.
News. Soap opera. Soap opera. Foreign superstar doing a commercial. News of Juuban Mall big store opening. Drag-on Ball Zzzz, stupid anime. Another foreign superstar. News of Juuban Mall under attack, again.
News of Ranma fighting youma.
This bit of information caught Nabiki's attention. It was Ranma all right, running circles around some strange looking youma. Occasionally the martial artist would hit it a few times, but mostly he dodged. It looked like Ranma was taunting more than fighting.
"-new combatant seems to be holding his own against the youma. Could this be another ally to the Sailor Senshi? This reporter can only speculate at this time, but it seems that-"
Nabiki tuned out the rest of the reporter's babbling voice.
"Hey, sis!" Nabiki yelled toward Akane. Perhaps this would get her to stop cooking. "Ranma's on TV!"
"What? What's the pervert doing this time?" Akane yelled back from the kitchen. Apparently that wasn't enough to get her to leave.
"Oh," replied Nabiki in her most casual voice that she could throw at long distances, "he's just fighting a youma those Sailor Senshi usually take down."
There was a small thunderclap of sound being displaced as Akane teleported herself from the kitchen to in front of the TV.
"Really? Have the Sailor Senshi arrived? They are so cool!" gushed Akane. She secretly hoped they were looking for recruits, and was practicing poses in private.
A little stunned, Nabiki hesitated before replying. "No, it just looks like Ranma so far. The Sailor Senshi should get there soon, though. He's been fighting for a while, judging by the property damage. Though you can't always tell with Ranma."
"What kind of youma is it this time?" asked Akane, as she stared raptly at the television.
"500 yen for an update," replied Nabiki calmly, holding out a hand.
Akane didn't even protest as she handed over the money.
"As you can see, it's purple and vaguely female-shaped. For an attack, it throws around what looks to be dark lightning, or swings a fist with enough strength to rival Ryoga at his best. At least, that's all it's has done so far. It hasn't managed to hit Ranma yet, so I don't know how powerful the attacks really are, even if they are damaging the surrounding area a lot. Ranma has been hitting it almost constantly, but he doesn't seem to be doing much damage, other than doing what he does best: irritating the hell out of thing. On a side note-"
"Look!" Akane interrupted as she pointed at the screen. "The Sailor Senshi have arrived!"
Indeed they had. The Sailor Senshi, in all their glory, managed to capture the attention of the cameras away from the current fight.
Nabiki visibly winced at the following speech. Akane thought it might make it into the Top Ten Speeches list her fan club had compiled.
The battle looked to be hard-fought. The Senshi were taking extra care of not hitting Ranma, while Ranma's strikes weren't doing much damage. Energy blasts where flying in every direction. One of them came close to hitting the camera crew, as they ducked out of the way. When they were able to recover, the picture showed a determined Venus with an energy blast heading right for her.
Unfortunately, Sailor Venus was not able to jump away in time, and was blasted with the full force of the attack. The trajectory of the blast threw her right toward a large glass window. At the last possible second, a blur shot across her path and she seemed to disappear.
The camera moved in an attempt to track the blur. It found Ranma clutching the one of the Sailor Senshi in his arms.
Tightly.
With one hand THERE.
Venus looked down and it was obvious to all she noticed, but the girl made no move to disengage herself from the position. Ranma was oblivious as he turned back toward the youma and gently set the heavily blushing Venus down.
To Akane, it looked as if he had deliberately grabbed there. And enjoyed it.
The pervert!
Normally, Akane would hit/mallet/inflict pain on Ranma immediately and walk off in a huff. That would pretty much be the end of things, besides residual feelings of resentment. However, since there was no Ranma to immediately hit, Akane was forced to contain the feelings of rage. Unlike in most people, rage leaving after a period of time, Akane's temperament only caused the rage to grow.
Exponentially.
"-looks as if the new arrival could be involved with Sailor Venus! Certainly they appear to have some degree with familiarity with each other, judging by the way he grabbed-"
The TV set met its unfortunate demise due to bludgeoning with a large table.
***
Author's Notes: More to come!
Disclaimer: Just about every character in this fic doesn't belong to me. They belong to the various people who own them. The character that DOES belong to me is half mine, and the other half was given to me to play with by Metroanime. If you would like to borrow him too, just ask. Other characters mentioned in this work that belong to Metroanime are used with his permission. Go read his stuff, it's good.
Chapter 1
---
14. I will explain to my Legions of Terror that guns are ranged weapons and swords are not. Anyone who attempts to throw a sword at the hero or club him with a gun will be summarily executed.
-Peter's List of Things I'd do if I Ever Became an Evil Overlord
---
Setsuna Meiou, better known as Sailor Pluto, was not having a good day. Even if you couldn't exactly define the time spent at the Time Gate day or night, it just seemed appropriate for the occasion to make an exception.
Sure, the image of Crystal Tokyo was still shining brightly. There was no flickering as a warning of loss. This had nothing to do with Setsuna's current mood.
She had been trying to follow Ryoga Hibiki.
The Senshi of Time reasoned with herself that discovering weather or not the boy was an ally or an enemy was sufficient reason to use the time gate.
How that boy could manage to lose himself so often was a mystery to the Sailor.
It seemed that in any given moment of time, he could change in a random direction that would take him further from his goal. The boy was SO oblivious, that sometimes he missed where he was trying to get to simply because he didn't look up.
This scene was repeated. Over and over. No matter what part of his past she looked at, it seemed he was lost somewhere.
It was getting ridiculous.
Finally, her persistence paid off. She found him inside what looked to be a traditional Japanese home, sitting in front of what might have been called food. The stuff was on a plate, at least. The fact the substance was attempting to remove itself from said plate could argue the case against it being edible. Ryoga was wearing a strained smile as he picked up his chopsticks.
"By Queen Serenity and all that is Good!" muttered Setsuna in abject horror. "Is he really going to 'eat' that stuff?"
The answer was, apparently, yes. The Sailor of Time could not understand what possessed this young man to torture himself so. Maybe this was some sort of training? He seemed to be the martial artist type to her, and Setsuna KNEW what lengths those people went to 'further' themselves. She'd never seen training like this before, though. In the several millennia she'd been standing guard over the Gate, that was saying something.
As Setsuna watched the events that transpired around the Tendo Dojo, the worry at the pit of her stomach grew.
---
In Another Dimension All Together... We'll call it Timeline 2...
5 years ago...
Tannim Murphy of Northern California just had his fourteenth birthday, and doing what most fourteen year olds his age were doing: Playing video games. For some reason, he seemed exceptionally gifted at them. The boy's reflexes were nothing short of astounding, even if he had no interest in sports. He was able to pick up any patterns in whatever game he was playing at the time, and use them to his advantage in seconds.
Currently, he was on level 30 of "Time Warriors 2: Time Warp." Tannim's character was flickering back and forth on the screen, while his two friends looked on in awe. The boy didn't have many friends, and was content with the few close friends he did have. This might mean he didn't get many presents on his birthday, but is also guaranteed that those presents would be of the highest quality. Each friend knew that whatever they got each other would be shared implicitly.
What the boy didn't know is that a special spell resided in him. This spell, however, was failing. The person who cast the spell depended on ambient energy to power it, but since it was thrown into another dimension, the energy just wasn't there. It was designed to start working around the age of 14, and over a period of years slowly give memories of a past life. Since it had virtually no power left, the semi-sentient spell, in a last- ditch effort, decided to give all the memories at once.
Tannim froze, glazed over eyes unheeding the television screen. All his attention was focused internally, where something strange was going on.
He was Remembering.
'Moon Kingdom?'
'Princesses of planets?'
'Knights of emotions?'
'What was a Sailor Senshi anyway?'
'Whoa, those are some SHORT skirts.'
'Who is Basalt?'
'My mentor?'
'I haven't seen him before.'
'Mom?'
'Dad?'
'Those aren't MY parents.'
'Important mission?'
'Knight of Desperation?'
'Hematite?'
'That's not my name.'
'That's not my life.'
'That's not me.'
'That's NOT ME.'
"THAT'S NOT ME!" screamed Tannim, clutching his head. The controller had slipped through his nerveless fingers moments before.
It was hard to tell weather it was fortunate or not the spell succeeded.
---
Sometime later, Tannim awoke to find himself in the nearby hospital. As soon as he tried to sit up, pain exploded in his head. It felt as if his mind was on fire. It was the kind of pain that a person received when they've had a lifetime's worth of memories suddenly shoved into their head. Duncan McLeod could sympathize. With a groan, he let himself fall back down on the pillow.
"Tannim, are you all right?"
The boy cracked his eyes open to see his father's worried face hovering over him. For a brief second, he couldn't recognize the man. A picture of a different person being his father superimposed itself over the stranger looking down at him. Tannim quickly blinked, dispelling the image.
"What was I thinking?" The boy berated himself mentally. "MY father is right here."
"Yeah, dad. I'm fine," croaked Tannim. He was mentally exhausted and his head swam with memories. It seemed that he was two people now.
One, Tannim, the boy who had grown up for the most part innocent. He dreamed of magic, and science. Both were equal wonders to him. A dreamer who read more books than most adults.
The other, Hematite, older by five years than Tannim but still a kid at heart. However, he grew up in preparation for war. Almost since birth, Hematite had been trained in the Arts of Combat. He was gifted with the powers of the Knight of Desperation, even at his relatively young age, due to sheer potential. He died in battle against invading forces, using all his strength and cunning. Cunning, mostly, because he wasn't very powerful. Surprisingly, to Tannim at least, Hematite seemed to have led a relatively happy life. Even as he died. Apparently fighting for one's beliefs was very fulfilling.
Training is fun, even if my father was terribly strict at times.
Tannim shook his head sharply. That wasn't HIS thought. It was becoming difficult to tell Hematite's memories from his own.
The boy paused. Wasn't this the kind of thing he'd always wished would happen to him? Reading fantasy books, and sci-fi novels, did a lot for the boy's imagination. Sometimes, late at night, he'd wish for something exciting like this to happen to him. Why not embrace it?
Things got interesting...
---
The Next Morning...
"What are we going to do now?" asked Hematite mentally. "This is pretty strange to me. We've got a lot of stuff to think about. I-"
"Oh, hush," interrupted Tannim out loud. "Right now, we're not going to think. We're going to watch TV. I don't think I can handle thinking."
"Tee Vee? That's the glowing box with changing pictures on it, right? Reminds me of a VC."
"TV stands for television. What does Vee Cee stand for?"
"Viewing Crystal, what else? Only it projected the pictures directly into your mind. This is pretty crude in comparison."
"Oh. Well, be quiet while I look for something good to watch."
The hospital had cable, and Tannim was gleefully flipping channels to see shows he normally missed.
Hey, being sick had it's perks.
He heard there was a new line-up of cartoons on USA that extended to after school started. USAM, USA in the morning, he thought they called it. This was too prime an opportunity to be missed.
8:30 finally rolled around. Now he'd be able to see whatever the big deal was about. He'd heard it was some imported show from Japan. Some new weird cartoon that was popular.
The opening animation was good. Better than most cartoons of the time anyway. The girls in short skirts didn't hurt. Going through puberty will do that to you.
"I think I've seen that girl somewhere before..." muttered Hematite mentally to himself.
"Mmm... Short skirts..."
Tannim wasn't really paying attention.
"...that particular hairstyle..."
"...REALLY short skirts..."
Paying attention would have cost too much.
"...I've seen someone wearing it..."
"...nice, long legs..."
Puberty was hitting Tannim like a sledgehammer.
"...possibly by..."
"...very cute girls..."
Thus, you can understand why he was startled by what happened next.
"QUEEN SERENITY AND ALL THAT IS GOOD!"
Tannim was shaken out of his hormone-induced trance. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"
"That's... Those are the Sailor Senshi!"
Drawing upon Hematite's memories, the boy discovered what was upsetting the voice inside his head.
"Didn't they... Die? What the heck are they doing as a cartoon?"
"I don't know! I'm just the collective memories of a warrior from a kingdom that was most likely destroyed, reduced to being a voice inside someone's head! How the hell should I know?!"
"Now, if I had seen this show BEFORE you came along, I'd start to doubt my sanity."
"I'm starting to doubt my entire existence... Are you SURE you're not insane?"
"Nope," replied Tannim off-handedly. "Maybe someone else got memories like me and decided to turn their memories into profit?"
"But... I'm certain that anyone with memories from the Moon Kingdom would NEVER stoop to such... Such..."
"Blatant disregard for skirt height?" offered Tannim helpfully.
"No, the skirts are accurate..." muttered Hematite. "The only person I could think that would do something like this is Obsidian. But he'd most likely not bother."
"Hold up, check out the show. Does that look like the Moon Kingdom to you, or a modern-day city?"
"They seem to match your memories of what a city looks like, if a bit differently. Where is it, I wonder?"
"Probably Tokyo," said Tannim. He paused for a moment in silent contemplation. "Yep, they're driving on the wrong side of the road. And I heard this show comes from Japan. Makes sense."
"What are we going to do now?"
"Watch the show, and see if we can't discover why you're in my head."
A few moments passed as Tannim and Hematite watched the television.
"Okay, those voices are reeeeeeally irritating," said Tannim. "They sound like adults poorly imitating teenagers."
"Agreed. I just hope we'll be able to stand it long enough to figure out what's going on."
---
Timeline 1
Present...
Ranma was dressed in his casual clothes today, an oversized blue Chinese shirt with the sleeves rolled back, with loose-fitting black pants and slippers. Not that this was different from what he wore most of the time. In fact, it was often remarked that he rarely went anywhere without wearing something Chinese.
What most people didn't know was that Ranma was wearing Chinese clothes as a fashion statement. Perhaps it was closer to a protest. In wearing Chinese clothing, Ranma was stating to the world, subconsciously, that he would rather be in China than Japan right now. The fact that the clothing was both comfortable and practical was a bonus.
Today, he was attempting to relax. School wasn't in session right now, so he couldn't relax there. The martial artist decided to spend some downtime in the mall, surrounded by people. To Ranma, it was very comforting to be surrounded by people.
Specifically, surrounded by people not trying to kill him.
It was a relief to the martial artist to discover that there were, in fact, many people in this world that didn't want to either marry him, kill him, or use him to make money. They had hopes and dreams that didn't involve one Ranma Saotome. Just to wander around and soak in the indifferent feelings always refreshed the pig-tailed boy. Many an afternoon he'd wander around in one, not really thinking about anything, just feeling the flow of humanity swirl around him. He'd use his hyper-sensitive senses, that were normally attuned to people with malevolent feelings toward him, to experience the relaxing sensations of idle curiosity, random chit-chat, and clusters of friends moving about him.
It felt great.
The entire afternoon went by, and not a single person bothered him. Apparently going as far as the mall in Juuban had been a good idea.
---
It was Saturday. School was out. This meant one thing for the Inner Senshi, Warriors of Love and Justice, Protectors of Good, Enemy of Evil.
They were about to go Shopping.
Yes, it was the normal schoolgirl thing to do. Yes, it was terribly cliché. But that's exactly why they did it every chance they got. It was bad enough they had to fight youmas, keep up a secret identity, and go to school. They felt they deserved a bit of normalcy every now and then.
And they were determined to live life to it's dessert, as Minako was fond of saying.
Usagi was standing in the middle of the line, being flanked immediately on either side by Rei on the right, and Ami on the left. Makoto and Minako took both ends of the line, right and left respectively. It was an unconscious parody of their normal battle formation.
It was nearing the end of the shopping day, and almost time to start going home. Each girl was loaded with at least one bag of stuff as they decided to sit down and have something to eat.
Well, Usagi decided she was hungry and couldn't be stopped.
As the group neared the food court, they discovered to their dismay that it was packed with eating people. It was sheer luck that at the time they arrived, a large group of six decided to leave. Unfortunately, a boy wearing Chinese clothes, two women wearing strange bikinis, and another boy who was pretty short, all spotted the table at the same moment.
The combatants looked at the table, then at each other. Tension hung thick in the air as the respective groups eyed each other. An unspoken signal was passed as everyone involved broke out in a mad dash to determine the victor.
The Sailor Senshi had an advantage in numbers, as they practically knocked everyone over in their way to the table. The Lovely Angels had combat experience, leaving a trail of devastation in their path. Keiichi, well, didn't have much; but he was pretty close to the table to begin with. Ranma was able to by-pass the problem of the crowd by head-hopping his way from across the plaza.
Keiichi was halted in his attempts to reach the open chairs. A group of football players practically knocked the little man over as they brushed by him.
The two women fighting together lost themselves in the heat of combat, and drifted off course.
The Sailor Senshi, with Makoto in the lead, were the first to make it to the chairs. They spread out as they claimed their seating.
Free of the football players, Keiichi was very close to the last seat. However, before he could take the three steps needed, a young man seemed to fall from the sky and land with himself sitting in the previously open chair.
Keiichi grumbled to himself as he went off to search for somewhere else to sit.
The Senshi were staring at the young man; Minako and Makoto with a kind of lust, Rei with a sort of agitation, Ami with a calculating look, and Usagi with studied indifference. She already had her Mamo-chan.
All of these looks washed over Ranma. The martial artist didn't even feel them. He was too busy congratulating himself on a job well done.
Ami was the first to speak up. "How did you do that?" she asked, resisting an impulse to grab her computer.
Ranma turned and beamed a dazzling smile toward the cute girl who vaguely reminded him of someone he knew. For some odd reason, various blunt objects sprung to mind, but he quickly ignored himself.
"Lots and lots of training," replied Ranma. It was his standard reply.
"So, you're a martial artist then?" asked Makoto. Maybe she could get him to teach her sometime.
Ranma puffed out his chest slightly. "I'm the best there is!"
Some small portion in the back of Ranma's mind was valiantly trying to warn himself about the dangers of talking to girls over extended periods of time, but it never had a chance. Ranma's own obliviousness about almost anything not pertaining martial arts served as a buffer between his conscious self and the small part of him who knew the dangers that women were.
The fact that they were all devastatingly cute did slightly worry him, however.
Minako eagerly contributed to the conversation, slightly irritated that Makoto got in a word before her. "I heard there are a bunch of martial artists in Nerima that could easily beat anyone else in the world."
"That's just a rumor," scoffed Rei. She secretly wondered if her Handsome Rescuer (which he was now dubbed in her mind) was from there. The fire reading she had done the night afterwards had, strangely, only showed two things. A compass whose needle was continually spinning, and a cute black piglet wearing a yellow spotted bandana. The Shinto priestess wondered what they meant. She continued aloud, "They also say that one of the martial artists is a guy who can turn into a girl."
"We're famous?" asked Ranma in his usual tact. He was surprised by this revelation. Sure, he wanted to be the best, but it never occurred to him what kind of publicity he'd get.
Conversation grounded to an abrupt halt. Stunned silence reigned supreme over the table for a few moments as everyone stared at the martial artist.
"You mean... The stories are true?" Usagi asked tentatively.
"It depends on what ya heard," said Ranma nervously.
"There really can't be someone who can change genders at will, can there?" asked Ami.
Ranma looked very uncomfortable. "No, not at will, not really."
"How about a panty-stealing black piglet?" asked Rei.
"The little pig's a jerk, but he doesn't steal panties," said Ranma.
"Oh."
Ranma continued, "there's a dirty old man who does that."
"So, which one of the martial artists are you?" questioned Minako.
As if on cue, one of the passing patrons carrying a very full glass of nice, cool, ice water, was jostled a bit too much and a large portion of the drink was heaped upon a certain pig-tailed boy.
Hence the damp, irritated, and slightly embarrassed pig-tailed girl.
Stunned silence ruled with an iron fist over the table once more. Eyeballs threatened to come out of the sockets of most the Senshi, and this time Ami DID grab her computer.
Before any questions were asked or scans made, a large explosion erupted from further down the mall.
"Help! It's another youma attack!"
"Run for your lives!"
"Mommy mommy, lookit the big purple monster!"
Ranma felt very relieved. This was probably the one of the few times in her life where she was GLAD something was attacking, even if the attack wasn't directed at her.
"Uh-oh, looks like something I need to deal with, talk to you all later, bye!" said Ranma all in a rush. Before she could be trapped or hit with a mallet, the martial artist leapt up from her chair and bounded over the intervening crowed. Her trajectory brought her to land right in front of the rampaging youma.
For the youma, this was a new experience. In all of it's experiences (the entire ten minutes of its existence) humans generally ran away from it. Now, here was a human standing fearlessly in front of it with a smirk on their face. And that human was female.
This could only mean one thing.
The youma pointed an accusing finger at Ranma. "You're one of those Sailor Senshi chicks, ain'tcha? I heard about youse guys!" spoke the youma in impossibly accented Brooklyn Japanese.
An animalistic growl of irritation escaped from Ranma's throat, unconsciously tapping into a small part of the Neko-ken. She angrily grabbed a thermos out of what looked to be thin air, and poured the almost- scalding water upon herself, triggering the transformation. The martial artist had fought Mousse enough times that he was able to duplicate the blind duck's technique rather well. Even if he didn't use weapons, the Hidden Weapons technique was very useful for carrying hot water.
"No, I'm not with those short-skirted, weapons-using, magic-toting, fuku- clad, hero-wannabes!" shouted Ranma in indignation. "I'm Ranma Saotome of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts, Ass-Kicker ta those who think they can steal Akane away from me by force, and the Destroyer of the Phoenix Saffron!" Ranma could admit privately to himself that the last bit might have been going a bit overboard, but he'd be DAMNED if he was going to let those Sailor Senshi give all the speeches.
Ah. Now she was a human male. Nothing to worry about. "I'z gonna drain youse of your powahs!"
"Try it, buddy! I DARE ya!" A soft blue glow surrounded Ranma as he idly cracked his knuckles.
The martial artist felt a tugging sensation, akin to what Miss Hinako's ki draining technique, but far less powerful. It was child's play to keep his energy from being drained from his body. Granted, someone who didn't have his kind of ki control would have been drained easily, but he wasn't Ranma Saotome for nothing.
"That all ya got?" smirked Ranma. "Lemme return the favor."
The purple-clad youma looked dumbly at the martial artist. "Hey, no fair!"
"Try THIS on for fair! HIYA!" cried Ranma as he shot forward to land a powerful blow on the youma's chest. The youma flew back several feet, crashing into a nearby wall without going through it.
"I'll get youse for that!" bellowed the youma as it picked itself up from the ground, seemingly unaffected by the blow.
"Yer gonna hafta catch me first!" shouted Ranma as he literally ran circles around the irritated monstrosity.
"We won't let youma like you disrupt peaceful shoppers! A Champion of Justice, I am Sailor Moon! In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!" Usagi recited for what seemed to her the hundredth time. The rest of the Senshi made agreeing noises as they prepared themselves, not really paying attention to what their 'fearless leader' was saying. The spectacle in front of them had that effect on people.
Too bad the youma wasn't paying attention to Usagi's speech either. It might have been impressed. It was too busy trying to swat the annoying bug that was Ranma Saotome. The martial artist was bouncing around the youma faster than the combined sugar high of a class full of second graders.
The first 'Fire Soul Bird' from the Sailor Senshi finally gained the attention of the beast. The creature roared in defiance as it settled for firing several dark energy blasts in the direction of the fuku-clad super heroines. While most of the Senshi were able to jump out of the way, Sailor Venus was still stunned at the sight of such a handsome young boy taking on a youma by himself she wasn't paying as much attention as she should have. By the time she noticed the attack, all she could do was brace herself for the impact.
First, came the sensation of pain. Then flight. Then, Venus suddenly felt one of the few sensations she actively sought out: the arms of a strong man holding her tightly. Her body even threw in the sensation of him doing something normally inappropriate, but something she approved of all the same. Namely, she felt a hand firmly gripping her right breast. Life was good for a few moments.
Ranma gently set Venus down. In self-defense, the martial artist's brain was choosing to ignore exactly where he had grabbed her, in case the girl wouldn't notice either. The girl hadn't hit him, so he hadn't done anything wrong, his brain reasoned with himself. Thus he continued on without alerting the higher consciousness to the trouble he might be in.
"Wait!" cried the blushing Venus as Ranma jumped toward the youma. "You can't hurt it by hitting it!"
Ranma flipped in mid-jump, somehow managing to twist his body while reversing his momentum, to land in front of the Senshi.
"Really? No matter how hard I hit it, I can't kill it?" asked Ranma with a strange look in his eyes.
Venus looked slightly nervous. "Um, yeah. That's right."
Ranma looked down, his fists clenched together. His shoulders were silently shaking.
Venus reached out a tentative hand to comfort the obviously distressed young man. "I'm, you've, done a, well... You tried-"
"BWAHAHAHA!" Ranma cackled toward the heavens as he raised his fists in triumph. "Finally! A punching bag that won't break! THANK YOU KAMI- SAMA!"
Venus was left stunned as the pig-tailed martial artist disappeared from in front of her to reappear in front of the youma.
"Hi there! Thanks for being my sparring partner!" Ranma gave a quick head bow toward the youma.
"Huh? What?" replied the obviously confused youma. "Sparring partner?"
"Sure. I've always wanted to try out a few techniques. I just couldn't find anything that would stay solid or alive till the end of them."
That's when the youma's world exploded in pain.
---
Five Minutes Ago...
Akane was in a good mood.
Akane was cooking.
As things went, this usually meant pain for our favorite martial artist, but since he wasn't here maybe he'd be spared this time.
Ah, there's the ominous thunder, right on cue.
On a scale of one to ten on the Akane Cooking Factor, this was beginning to look like an 11. Half-cooked and burnt meat lay scattered about the kitchen, some of it on plates. The lettuce had been thoroughly washed in turpentine, and the salad dressing was composed of varnish, cooking oil, and something from an unmarked bottle she found underneath the sink. Bits of sugar had somehow wormed it's way onto the dessert, though purely by accident. Most of the confection was covered in salt, baking soda, and anything else white she could find around the kitchen. To top it off, most of the almost un-recognizable produce was covered in something that was, quite frankly, un-recognizable. And glowed slightly. All in all, this wouldn't have been so bad if Akane hadn't decided to take on the difficult job of cooking Western food. Since she only knew vaguely what it looked like, and nothing of what it tasted like, she was improvising more than normal.
Hence the extra point on the Akane Disaster Chart.
Nabiki wasn't worried. She had at least three alibis ready for dinner, and was prepared to make up more excuses on the spot. She also had contingency plans made out for Kasumi and her father, in case Ranma didn't get home in time to be the first one to try Akane's cooking. Even if it was looking more and more like Ranma might have a better chance of surviving throwing himself on hot lava. At least that was a relatively quick death.
Currently, she was channel surfing. All of the accounts had been added up earlier this week, and there weren't any major money schemes going on, so she was free to do whatever she wanted.
News. Soap opera. Soap opera. Foreign superstar doing a commercial. News of Juuban Mall big store opening. Drag-on Ball Zzzz, stupid anime. Another foreign superstar. News of Juuban Mall under attack, again.
News of Ranma fighting youma.
This bit of information caught Nabiki's attention. It was Ranma all right, running circles around some strange looking youma. Occasionally the martial artist would hit it a few times, but mostly he dodged. It looked like Ranma was taunting more than fighting.
"-new combatant seems to be holding his own against the youma. Could this be another ally to the Sailor Senshi? This reporter can only speculate at this time, but it seems that-"
Nabiki tuned out the rest of the reporter's babbling voice.
"Hey, sis!" Nabiki yelled toward Akane. Perhaps this would get her to stop cooking. "Ranma's on TV!"
"What? What's the pervert doing this time?" Akane yelled back from the kitchen. Apparently that wasn't enough to get her to leave.
"Oh," replied Nabiki in her most casual voice that she could throw at long distances, "he's just fighting a youma those Sailor Senshi usually take down."
There was a small thunderclap of sound being displaced as Akane teleported herself from the kitchen to in front of the TV.
"Really? Have the Sailor Senshi arrived? They are so cool!" gushed Akane. She secretly hoped they were looking for recruits, and was practicing poses in private.
A little stunned, Nabiki hesitated before replying. "No, it just looks like Ranma so far. The Sailor Senshi should get there soon, though. He's been fighting for a while, judging by the property damage. Though you can't always tell with Ranma."
"What kind of youma is it this time?" asked Akane, as she stared raptly at the television.
"500 yen for an update," replied Nabiki calmly, holding out a hand.
Akane didn't even protest as she handed over the money.
"As you can see, it's purple and vaguely female-shaped. For an attack, it throws around what looks to be dark lightning, or swings a fist with enough strength to rival Ryoga at his best. At least, that's all it's has done so far. It hasn't managed to hit Ranma yet, so I don't know how powerful the attacks really are, even if they are damaging the surrounding area a lot. Ranma has been hitting it almost constantly, but he doesn't seem to be doing much damage, other than doing what he does best: irritating the hell out of thing. On a side note-"
"Look!" Akane interrupted as she pointed at the screen. "The Sailor Senshi have arrived!"
Indeed they had. The Sailor Senshi, in all their glory, managed to capture the attention of the cameras away from the current fight.
Nabiki visibly winced at the following speech. Akane thought it might make it into the Top Ten Speeches list her fan club had compiled.
The battle looked to be hard-fought. The Senshi were taking extra care of not hitting Ranma, while Ranma's strikes weren't doing much damage. Energy blasts where flying in every direction. One of them came close to hitting the camera crew, as they ducked out of the way. When they were able to recover, the picture showed a determined Venus with an energy blast heading right for her.
Unfortunately, Sailor Venus was not able to jump away in time, and was blasted with the full force of the attack. The trajectory of the blast threw her right toward a large glass window. At the last possible second, a blur shot across her path and she seemed to disappear.
The camera moved in an attempt to track the blur. It found Ranma clutching the one of the Sailor Senshi in his arms.
Tightly.
With one hand THERE.
Venus looked down and it was obvious to all she noticed, but the girl made no move to disengage herself from the position. Ranma was oblivious as he turned back toward the youma and gently set the heavily blushing Venus down.
To Akane, it looked as if he had deliberately grabbed there. And enjoyed it.
The pervert!
Normally, Akane would hit/mallet/inflict pain on Ranma immediately and walk off in a huff. That would pretty much be the end of things, besides residual feelings of resentment. However, since there was no Ranma to immediately hit, Akane was forced to contain the feelings of rage. Unlike in most people, rage leaving after a period of time, Akane's temperament only caused the rage to grow.
Exponentially.
"-looks as if the new arrival could be involved with Sailor Venus! Certainly they appear to have some degree with familiarity with each other, judging by the way he grabbed-"
The TV set met its unfortunate demise due to bludgeoning with a large table.
***
Author's Notes: More to come!
