------------------------------------------------------------------------- * Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction * Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction * Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction * ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Switch: Herbs and Spices (Chapter 02 / 22) by Nikholas "Switch" F. Toledo ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Please do remember that Ranma 1/2 is a trademark and a copyright of and by some big name people and companies I am not even worthy to introduce. Anybody who says that I took any of their stuff better not find me hiding. Also, great thanks to whoever reads this and likes it, good thanks to whoever reads it anyhow, and teeny-weeny thanks to whoever else even saw this. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Day 1 Second Changes Halfway through the morning already, and Ranma was already done. Having snuck into the bathroom (which was unoccupied at the time), he quickly disrobed and fell into the hot water which Kasumi had readied. For the second time in the day, he felt the same two things: first, the drowsy sleep-dark eating away at his mind's eye; second, an itchy feeling somewhere above his mouth. To the latter, he raised his hand. At first, it was as though it was twined in miso soup, but he realized that it was hair. His hair, in fact. He twirled it a bit lazily in his hand, and felt the heat eat its way through his lethargy. He wondered slightly what his mustache would look like. Maybe he should fashion handlebars, or something more like Mr. Tendo's beamer. Would it add to his natural pizzazz? As long as it was summer, he could grow it as long as he wanted. He'd have to ditch it come schooltime, but it might be worth it. He decided on keeping it (some fuzzy edge of his mind reminding him to ask Akane how it looked on him), and dried up to borrow some shaving cream from his father's stuff. Stepping through the bath's door, he donned the loose cotton pantaloons and red shirt he so loved to wear. As soon as he got to the outer door, though, it was his luck to hear Akane bounding down the steps. She sounded more jovial than earlier, but things could take turns for the worst (for him). He decided quickly to keep in the bath, hoping that his fiancée was not going to take a second bath for the morning. His heart sank when he realized that she'd just jogged, of course she was taking another bath. Panic seized him just as the knock on the door came. "H'llo? Anybody in there?" He decided to play safe. "Just me." "Oh." The sound of defeated purpose hitched on the syllable. Ok, so maybe she's mellowed some. "I'm done already. You can use the bath." The door opened tentatively. Akane wasn't very sure what to say. Sure, he'd been in the bath when she came in barely covered. But she acted way too quickly when she bopped him. Not even a peep did she hear. So now, she was giving him at least some time to talk (and the mood for it too). Chalk one up for Nabiki in techniques of manipulation and human emotion. She wasn't expecting the equivalent of seeing Ranma wearing a Groucho mustache gone wild. "What is that?" she nearly shouted. Ranma looked around, on the alert. "What? Where?" "On your face, Ranma!" Ranma stopped swinging around wildly. "Oh, you mean this." His mind was racing. Did she like it? Was she terrified? What was it that made her not so quite scream? "It's a mustache?" she asked plaintively. "Of course it is, you lamebrain! Just grown in today. What did you think it was?" He was halfway indignant, and halfway confused. Akane almost smoldered at the crack, but kept to herself at the second comment. "Look at yourself, dummy!" He turned to face the mirror that was across the room, in the bath. It was as big as one grown for three months, with the whiskers tickling his cheeks. It reminded him of walruses, which made the position all the more fishy. Akane was a hair's breadth ahead of his analysis. "Is it the dragon hair?" He nodded. That dragon hair had quite given him a run for his money, and it was coming for a rematch. Akane sighed. So that's why she felt wrong about judging his presence earlier. She gave him a heavy *scrunch* (because it was him after all), let him out the door, and took her bath in peace. Happosai knew exactly what to do. He gleefully bounded up and down the neighborhood, every once in a while grabbing a brassiere or a thong which happened to be lying about, regardless of whether or not someone was using it at the moment. He began to leave a trail of mayhem the others were sure to trace in no time. He laughed. They'd need it, and when they finally get to him, he'll be ready. A moment's inattention caused him to bump into a bamboo plant, knocking it down. (what was a bamboo plant doing in the middle of the road, anyhow?) He grunted. These things weren't exactly cloth sacks, but you've got to move with the times. Frilly little things were much more soothing to the touch when they're colder. Getting up, he bounded leaving a thoroughly disgruntled Tsubasa wondering what he'd ever done to deserve this. A few minutes later, Ranma was in bandages, and up to his shoulders in facial hair. Akane came down into the living room, then snootily turned her head in the diametric opposite Ranma. She then sat down beside him (kind of hard to be angry at a guy you have to sit next to) in disgust. Disgust soon turned into concern as she saw the scowl on Ranma's face. Nabiki and Kasumi had interrogated him on the "new look" and from the way he avoided her guarded gaze, she could tell what the last question was. Kasumi then added, while bringing in the tea for midmorning, "why is it so long, then? I didn't notice it yesterday." Ranma wondered if she noticed nothing or everything. "It's the dragon hair I ate. All the hair on my head is growing out again." Nabiki took the cup in both hands. "Then why aren't your eyelashes growing?" Ranma wavered mildly. "Uh... " There was a mild laugh somewhere over the idea of Ranma sporting long (and curly) eyelashes. Akane muttered, "maybe he pulled them out." Before Ranma could retort, Nabiki continued, "or your nose hair? Or your sideburns?" Ranma sweated slightly. Kasumi swung nearby, while sweeping the yard. "Maybe because dragons don't grow those long." Akane faced Nabiki. "How about his beard?" A silence wandered in with the wind. Kasumi said, sweeping away, "what an awkward silence." Ranma slightly sagged forward. "But the problem is it's growing and I don't have dragon hairs to tie it to, to stop it." At this conjecture, Soun sweepingly entered the room. "Son, you may have to pull those hairs out." Ranma jumped up and shouted, "what! Don't be ridiculous! That may work for white hairs or those, but not on mustaches." Akane pulled out a set of used tweezers and clippers. "We can't keep pulling at it, or clipping it off." Soun consulted his own mustache. Nabiki, who had settled into the shadows for solar shielding, leaned forward to put in, "why not have Dr. Tofu look at it?" Ranma felt himself nodding as he felt cold water running down his back. He leered upward to see an upturned glass in Akane's hand. "Jeez, Akane. What did you do that for?" The bareness of his face made itself felt. Akane simply said, "don't feel that groggy now, do you?" Ranma-chan's back straightened. She was right. She explained, "it's that rampant growth that's been wasting you. It's taking too much of your energy." Soun beamed, "that's my girl." Ranma-chan just nodded. "Then let's make tracks." Kodachi looked up from the boiling flask and gave a good shocker of a laugh. She was going to get him this time, for sure. She'd had Sasuke keep an eye on her Ranma sweetums for sometime now, just to see how the wenches were trying to win him over. She had been intrigued enough with the use of chemicals, herbs, magic and seduction, but her attention had been drawn by the Amazon witch. But the woman was an amateur, as she would always have something go wrong in the deliberation and execution of her wares. She didn't know enough about how these things should be treated. She belted another full-throated symphonic ululation as the expense of the purple-haired hussy. She slid off the goggles onto the top of her head. Father had been overprotective when it came to the use of the facilities of the hydroponics lab situated near their greenhouse, and in his recent return to the estate (before he left for the other Pacific end for the summer; he so loved Nerima) had reiterated the need for safety precautions. The liner notes Sasuke had picked up for her (much to his dismay, during his manhunt for Ryoga, which he had to postpone) had the translations for the neatly written (in Chinese) recipes, but after leafing through the pages, she kept only the few which had mostly plant derivative ingredients available in the greenhouse. She had wondered why none of them were in pastry form, nor had use for eggs, but that line of scheming thought at the back of her head had found no practical use for the knowledge. She chuckled mildly (for her), then turned back to her burner. It was then that the fluids she was cooking realized that they (being foodstuffs of respect) had no right to be in powdered form (which was what Kodachi had planned of them, since they were easier to use that way), and promptly blew up in her face. The lab would need cleaning again, thought Kodachi, as she fell into a deep slumber immediately. Kasumi was removing her 'piyo piyo' apron, and said to Nabiki, "I wish they'd told me before they went to Dr. Tofu's. I could've just let them take this to him." She raised her left hand to reveal a slightly aged book entitled 'Odes to Nodes: Acupuncture During the Romantic Period'. Nabiki was calmly nibbling on a carrot stick. "I don't know. Maybe they're just in a rush to leave us together." Kasumi stuck her head in the pantry. "Honestly, they should take their time more often. What's coming is coming at its own time," she tutored motherly. Nabiki headed upstairs. More interesting details were to be worked out today, and she was planning to visit the bank. The advertisement campaign had ended this morning, late enough to shake the midmorning stocks-and-bonds enthusiasts. All would work well, she'd been told. This was one scheme she would have to monitor in all phases. Kasumi had sojourned to her own quarters, to pick out a decent enough dress to wear outside. After picking something light green, cottony and loose, she outfitted, then thought of wearing a bonnet which matched, but decided otherwise. She stopped in the kitchen to check whether the cookies she was baking were done. In the living room, her father was watching some morning anime. "Father, I'm passing by Dr. Tofu's in while, and I'll be buying some groceries." "That's good," was the only reply. The cookies were done when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Kasumi said cheerily. The door opened to reveal Tatewaki Kuno and P-chan. She took one look at the bouquets in his left hand and said, "oh, if you're looking for Akane, she just left with Ranma for Dr. Tofu's clinic. Why don't you come in?" The self-styled modern samurai bowed slightly in acquiescence, then entered. He strode into the living room and sat silently on the floor, laying both plant and animal on the table. He started to stare indignantly at the television. Meanwhile, P-chan spotted a way out and deftly took it. He strode intently towards the stairs to the upper rooms. Kasumi finished placing small decorations on the cookies, and placed them on a plate. This she had wrapped in a silk kerchief, and had put it in her basket. She stepped into the receiving room. "I'll be back in a little while, but father can keep you company," she said, referring to Kuno. And with that, she left. In Dr. Tofu's clinic, Ranma-chan and Akane removed their shoes and wore sandals. Seeing that the chiropractor still had no patients, they called the doctor at once. Dr. Tofu went in with a smile which wasn't lost on the young man. "Good morning. Oh, it's Akane and Ranma. What can I do for you this morning?" he said with no trace of implication. He started to put on a routine he rarely used, but was rarely needed. "Don't tell me one of you beat up the other again?" As if on cue, Akane began to fidget. Works every time, thought the moxibunctionist. Also as if on cue, Ranma-chan began to show the first signs of jealousy. That should work him up, returned the thought. "It's not that," said the redhead. Moving over to the airpot on a cabinet, he poured out some hot water, and immediately doused himself. He actually had the satisfaction of registering some glimmer of surprise from the older man before he almost fainted. Dr. Tofu mildly said, "oh," while Akane rushed to the side of the fallen Ranma. It was obvious that the hair growth was taking the strain on his energy, noting the aura that surrounded the teen was dim, and the amount of growth involved was indeed prodigious, as it hung well down to his chest. Steeling himself, the chiropractor quickly reviewed some of the pressure points he would have to use. Akane propped Ranma up on an examination table, mindful of the dangling fibers. He was starting to regain consciousness as Akane asked their spectacled companion. "What can you do, doctor?" Cracking his knuckles, the doctor replied, "something really simple." "How simple, doctor?" "By pressing several pressure points on the body, localized hair growth could be stunted, and even stopped by paralyzing the follicles in a relaxed state," calmly said the older man. Without another word, he motioned Akane to prop up Ranma's head. After pressing some areas near his nape, cheeks and shoulders, he eased Ranma into a sleep state, while applying techniques to stunt his mustache mayhem. After a few ministrations, he was done. "Just like that?" asked Akane, slightly incredulous. "Well, they'll come off next time he takes a bath, or changes gender, and they won't grow anymore, if that's what you're asking," Dr. Tofu offhandedly remarked, while wiping his hands with some oil. She softly set his head down, allowing herself some time to look at his face. Noticing Dr. Tofu sitting on another table, she went, voicing, "Doctor, I was wondering ..." "What is it, Akane?" Dr. Tofu was wearing a face of concern. "Wouldn't other areas of his face sprout hair?" The practitioner thought for a moment. "No. It seems that his hair growth, dictated by the dragon hair he ingested, patterns the hair growth of any other dragon, limited to the hair, mustache and beard." She thought about her earlier question. "Then why isn't he growing a beard, doctor?" "It seems that he can't." "Why not?" "It's all sort of hereditary." "You mean my dad shouldn't be able to grow a beard." The latter came from a revived Ranma, speaking through hooded lips. Dr. Tofu turned to the teen. "Yes." "But he's grown one before." The doctor notched into a bit more seriousness. "Are you sure?" "Yeah. What with it?" Tofu pursed his lips. "Nothing. Nothing really. Mutations do occur." Akane and Ranma stared at the older man with a strange expression. Dr. Tofu suddenly burst out laughing. "Hey! Did I do something?" Ranma breathed a sigh of relief (through a forest of hair). "Just thought that something weird was going to happen." This was the moment when Kasumi chose to call in. "Hello?" Ranma and Akane jumped at least two feet clear of the young professional, whose glasses happened to fog over. Choosing a hasty retreat, they managed to completely avoid Kasumi, and barely overheard the comments of acupuncture literature and contortionism (apparently, the latter being exhibited by the doctor), and the amusement of a young houseperson. Mousse was on the way to get some vegetables and meatstuffs from the marketplace when he had lucklessly chanced upon Ranma's father barreling down the road at 85 mph. His only consolation was that he hadn't purchased anything yet, and so any groceries that could have been victimized by needless violence were spared. The panicked panda had not even noticed that he had trampled the young martial artist (who wondered obliquely whether martial artists ran into each other more often than with other people before fading into unconsciousness accompanying being *splut* to the ground), in the mad hunt for his one and only son (as uncaring as he was). Genma knew at last what the danger signals had forewarned: Nodoka was coming. Their chance meeting earlier had cinched it. She was planning to stay over at the dojo for at least a week, he could tell. The amount of groceries she had been bringing along was much more than what she would need in a week, and she hadn't been by in quite a while. As per usual, he had to warn his son (the lazy cur) of the impending danger, as the presence of his mother had often been accompanied by more frequent aquatic exposure, and so forewarned is definitely forearmed. He rounded the corner amidst the large-eyed stares of the populace. It didn't matter. As long as the boy (as ungrateful as he is) is safe, he's safe, too.
