-------------------------------------------------------------------------
* Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction * Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction * Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction *
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Switch: Herbs and Spices (Chapter 10 / 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 thanks to whoever saw this.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day 2


 Ten to One Against



 Dr. Tofu went out.
 "Hello," said Nerima.
 "Hello," replied Dr. Tofu. "Raining any time today?"
 "Nope," Nerima said. Then she winked in a coy manner.
 "Just any time I'm not expecting." He sighed. He stretched. He
yawned. "I'm doing some exercises. Goodbye."
 "Goodbye," said Nerima.

 Shampoo slammed the door behind her. She thought again, then
opened it, just to slam it harder.
 Without her prior notice, the door locked itself shut.

 Gosunkugi dressed up in something normal that day. Lugging three
tomes, he hefted his load and trudged a path to the library.

 Mousse wondered what was happening. All of a sudden, he was caught
underfoot by a very solid gust of wind.
 Underfoot?
 He regained his balance, then very carefully stepped off the truck,
which was turning at that point.

 Mr. Turtle slept soundly, chewing on scraps of dark-hued cloth.

 Letting her own concern wash away her shyness, Akane slowly opened
the door at the end of the hall. She pulled it back slowly, and only up
to the point where she could squeeze herself through. She pulled it
inward, checking if she had woken her eldest sibling.
 Kasumi breathed in and out in deep slow breaths.
 Akane tiptoed over the carpeted flooring.
 Okay. Now what?
 She held the basin with one hand, and set it on the low table,
pushing the book to one side. Thoughtful older sister Kasumi, she mused.
 She considered where she could sit. The floor was a bit too low,
and the table looked rickety enough with the potted plant on it. She
leaned slowly unto Kasumi's bed, just beside the pillow.
 She turned to the long hair that her sister had. It was strewn in
a haphazard manner, so much unlike how it behaved when it was tied up in
a ponytail, along her shoulder. She remembered her own long tresses, and
how much she had to sacrifice, to find love. She ran her fingers through
it, relishing the soft feel of it.
 Remembering the cloth, she took the face towel, and wrung it, to
return it to moist from soggy.
 "Mother...?"
 She stiffened.
 "Mother...?" Kasumi asked again. "Is it time for the cooking
lessons yet...?"
 "No," Akane said softly. "Not yet."
 "Oh," she mumbled, feigning a return to sleep.
 They both smiled.

 Kodachi rolled, somehow not noticing that she was sleeping on
shingles. None the matter; the sun was now starting to be unbearable,
and the roofs were starting to emanate hot soup.
 Not that any of the martial artists would notice.

 An excerpt from the alleged black book of Nabiki Tendo, as
described by several acquaintances:
 Ranma beaten in a fight by a guy - 10 to 1.
 Ranma beaten in second fight with a guy - 25 to 1.
 Akane courted by guy Ranma will fight/is fighting - 4 to 1.
 Ranma courted by guy Ranma will fight/is fighting - 3 to 1.
 Ranma bopped by Akane during the fight - 4 to 1.
 Dr. Tofu courting Kasumi (before Ranma graduates) - 20 to 1.
 Shampoo uses door - 15 to 1.
 New fiancée for Ranma showing up (daily) - 6 to 1.
 The above being Genma's fault - 3 to 2.
 Ryoga on time for anything - 12 to 1.
 Kodachi giving non-poisoned food - 16 to 1.
 Ranma and Akane getting married before graduation - 25 to 1.
 Rain in Nerima - 5 to 1.
 Any Kuno figuring out what's going on - 30 to 1.
 Happosai says "no" to panties - 35 to 1.
 Genma says "no" to free food - 35 to 1.
 It is also likely that the alleged black book is just a figment of
some overactive imagination. Since Nabiki doesn't have a black book, one
is more inclined to think so; she makes the odds as she sees'em.

 The katana lay, still in its ricepaper sheath, the ancestral sword
of the Saotome clan. The bloodless blade shone in the darkness,
unassisted by the light. Silent, yet swift and sharp.
 Where...? Nodoka didn't want to leave the greatest treasure of the
Saotome clan, easy to plunder, wrath of the ancients... oh, what's the
use. She stood up, after looking under the table. If the testy little
thing doesn't want to be found, I'll have to wait my sweet time, won't I?
 She thought to leave at that point, but something held her back.
 She sighed. I suppose I'll have to look for it... She went back
in, renewing her search. The blade glinted brightly, as though amused.

 Nabiki didn't feel like patting herself, but she had to admit that
she did a good job.

 "... good job, Nabiki!"
 "Really?" She wanted to know if this was really a good thing.
 "Really, honey." The smile was enough to assure her.

 She smiled for a moment, then realized that the voices were merely
in her head. The smile stayed, but became more lopsided. She set the
plates on the table, and went up to call her siblings to eat.

 Because it isn't good to have so much angst in the morning, we cut
to the following segment:
 Kuno hunted around for people in the mansion.
 His sister, who had been missing for the past ten hours, was not
able to make a presence.
 Sasuke, who had last been heard to scream and shout and holler, all
the while feeding Mr. Turtle, was not able to make a presence either.
 Principal Kuno, who was still in Hawaii, was still not there. Not
as though "Tachi" wanted to find him there.
 The rest of the household, figuring that Mr. Turtle needed yet
another meal, with neither the mistress nor the pygmy ninja to feed him,
did not want to get "volunteered" into the job. They did not want to be
found.
 "Would it be that I, Tatewaki Kuno, might find myself bereft of
company on this fine summer's day?" He sat Rodin-esque, then: "'tis a
sign! I must call upon the favors of the calisthenic epitome, Akane
Tendo and the pig-tailed goddess whose name I am not worthy to remember!"
 Of course, Kuno would have used any excuse to find his two great
loves-him-not. Apparently, he was better prepared now, as he pulled out
two bouquets of roses out-of-nowhere [1]. He ran.
 A few minutes later, he shouted, "Augh!" Apparently, the only ones
who really knew about the traps in the house were his sister and their
dwarfed ninja.
 Incidentally, Mr. Turtle was freely roaming the house, scrounging
up for scraps. Apparently, he was hungry, and there was someone to feed
him in the house: he heard the "Augh!" and followed from there.

 [1] Out-of-nowhere is a term that is being phased out. Though some
might assume that this phasing out is due to political incorrectness, as
out-of-nowhere has no counterpart out-of-somewhere or, better yet, in-to-
nowhere, biasing itself against the absence of location, this is actually
due to the introduction of the trendier phrases "out of thin air", "out
of Hammerspace(TM)" or "out of that space where all those things they get
out in a surprising and unexplained manner come from."

 Nabiki was about to knock on Kasumi's door when Akane popped out,
almost causing collision. "Breakfast is ready," she said flatly.
 "Be with you in a minute," Akane said, rushing past, down the
stairs.
 "Nabiki?" Kasumi, on the other hand stayed in the bed.
 This, in fact, bothered her. A lot of things were bothering her
all of a sudden. She pushed her way in.
 Kasumi had a damp cloth over her forehead, which she explained by
way of gesturing towards the absent Tendo sister. Nabiki crossed her
arms in front of her, then leaned into the bed on them. "Good morning."
 The eldest Tendo girl considered the ceiling for a while. She
weighed her options carefully, then released a long sigh.
 "What... what do you think of Dr. Tofu?"

 Kodachi rolled in her sleep.

 Gosunkugi walked down the street.
 Despite whatever interesting things have happened to almost
everybody in Nerima, nothing ever happened to him. He wouldn't have
minded getting almost run down by a certain bouncy Amazon on a bike, or
maybe by an alternately cute/sexy teacher waving five-yen coins in the
air, or a shorthaired dream-girl. Maybe even a leotard-clad... nope, not
that desperate.
 That only thing that ever happens to him is... rain.
 Of course, at the intersection, he wasn't expecting the rain to be
blind Amazon. He wasn't even the bouncy type.

 Shampoo was at a loss. Did she anger some goddess of luck?
Heavens know their whole gang have already tripped up all sorts of gods
and goddesses, demons and some such. In the span of twelve hours, two
simple potions have backfired on her.
 Why do these things always happen to me?

 There is a fine line between superstition and religion; a religion
differs itself by a set of written agreements and a name to itself. In
fact, two people who belong to different religions would, at best, treat
each other to have oblique superstitions. (At worst... can you say
jihad?)
 It is not a wonder that most religions abhor superstitions. (Or is
it that most pious seem zealous to extent of superstition?)
 Unfortunately, there is a matter of propagation of the faith. A
superstition may rarely have changes that would affect the spirit of the
word, it is actually more likely that one scheming to abuse a religion
would so blatantly focus on the word. After all, would one suspect the
keeper of the word to go against it?
 In any case, superstitions tend to regard the world as a
irredeemable cesspool of malicious spirits who will trip you up if you
break a "rule"; religions would present a way out of it.
 Also, luck would unanimously be shoveled into the bin of
superstition. After all, who but gamblers would believe that the gods
would have anything to do with which space on a segmented wheel a metal
ball will land on? "God does not play dice with the universe."
 There is a fine line between superstition and philosophy, but this
is not due to probability.

 Kodachi rolled in her sleep. Then she scratched her nose.

 "Well..." Nabiki drawled. It was about time her sister opened up.
She considered. "I... well, he's okay... for an older guy."
 Kasumi's mouth twisted minutely, as though she wanted to retort.
Out of character? Nabiki was sleepier than she thought. "Well, what do
you think of Dr. Tofu?"
 Not that it wasn't like her to reiterate a point, it was just that
Kasumi did it for very, very obvious reasons: she had seen the technique
used on their two younger housemates. Unusually enough, this one was
confusing her. Did Kasumi want to know what she thought because she
wanted to... compare? Re-evaluate? Contrast? Challenge?
 Two can play at that game... whatever it is.
 "Actually... he's kind of cute."
 They stared into each other's eyes for a moment. The tension was
suspended when Kasumi choked off a gulp.
 Kasumi couldn't believe her ears. It would have been difficult if
she hadn't had anything on him, but now...
 "Oh..." was all she said.

 Nobody's seen the back of Dr. Tofu's clinic, in recent memory.
 Nobody's seen Dr. Tofu practice martial arts, either. One could
also infer that the two event spaces overlap.
 One could have been correct, but not quite. For example, Nodoka
had seen, a day before, that Dr. Tofu was a martial artist, by his
extraordinary walking abilities.

 Of course, in physical training, it is important to clear one's
mind. The body, in order to harmonize with the mind, must come into a
reset with it. Hence, meditation.
 A scheme was to imagine a furnace, to burn everything in your
foremind, and to see it consumed, leaving a huge void. It is much harder
than it seems, pink elephants or otherwise.
 To be a doctor, one would always have a presence of mind. The
emergency, as it presents itself, should always be found, as would a
solution.
 In short, to become a martial artist, one must stop being the
doctor.
 Tofu, now known as Dr. Tofu, has always found this fascinating.

 Acupressure and acupuncture have been accepted healing crafts in
the Orient for decades past, now. Yet, the basic knowledge of these
fields have led to several of the techniques specialized in the martial
arts. Indeed, the study of ki and its effects on the human body are well
within the bounds of study of either.
 And, yet, these fields, like all medical fields, can be perverted
and used against the human body. These, too, fall well within the fields
of each other.
 Thus, the murderer distinguishes himself from the doctor in terms
of medical jurisprudence, and, in that case, in terms of motive. As with
the martial artist and the practitioner.

 In any case, Dr. Tofu was then the martial artist. In fact, he was
doing one-armed push-ups on his right. With his eyes closed.
 Actually, it was a process that he started just lately. Pavlovian
conditioning and all. After all, everything can be achieved by the power
of the human spirit, right?
 Premise: whenever Kasumi is around while Dr. Tofu is "being the
doctor", everything goes haywire.
 Premise: Tofu the doctor and Tofu the martial artist are two
separate states of mind.
 Assumption: whatever makes Dr. Tofu go haywire while Kasumi is
around, it is because he is "being the doctor".
 Hypothesis: Tofu, the martial artist, with his superior discipline
and concentration and void, will not go haywire at even the mention of
Kasumi.
 Experimentation.
 Right now, Tofu was concentrating on the martial arts heritage his
father had passed down unto him. His breathing was in sync with the
flexing and stretching in his right arm; he was his right arm. It was
unusually quiet, but he took it all in. The mildew, the chirping birds,
the all-ness and none-ness... he opened his eyes.
 There was Kasumi. At least, a reproduction of one of her most
striking moments.
 In moments, Dr. Tofu's clinic suddenly had a back gate.

 Kodachi rolled in her sleep. Faster.

 Kasumi did say that she was going to have a chat with Nabiki, and
that I could jog around for about ten minutes. Akane quickly took off
the dress she had on (carefully putting it aside; she was planning to
wear it today, after all), and put on a pair of shorts and... hmm...
maybe not. She discarded the shorts and sleeveless shirt, and donned a
gi, instead.
 Having done that, she rushed downstairs (tossing a quick "be a
while" to her siblings as she passed by Kasumi's room), and outside.

 Ryoga took slow moments moving: quite a few, just to set Ukyo on
the floor, making sure to place the blanket between her and the carpet;
another few to gently reach her hands, which were possessively caressing
the small of his back; yet a few more to untangle their legs.
 Sweet, sweet Ukyo. She seemed to have lost her ribbon. In a
moment, he was cupping her hair in one hand and tying it loosely with one
of his own bandannas.
 He was slightly over her body, and he sat up. He took another look
at her. Yellow doesn't go well with blue, he concluded, and unbound her
hair. The bandanna lay limply in his hand.
 She looked much better with her hair free.
 What had Ranma done to you, then? Nothing in the past days...
well, past weeks, last he saw her... could have led to this. How dare he
treat a woman so callously?
 Ryoga stood, ire building within him. Urrrggggghh... he started
taking measured steps towards the door, but as soon as he opened it, he
lost his concentration completely: CURSE YOU, RANMA! He sped through
the opening, leaving the door ajar in his wake.

 Akane has had these jogging trips before, of course. Almost every
day, actually. Ever since Ranma came, Akane hasn't been very sure about
her own skills (not that she'd say anything on that count, that is).
Apparently, those boys at Furinkan were good for something.
 Oh... hogwash! Akane pushed away the idea. She didn't want the
old days back. And she wasn't that off... although, it did feel kind of
sore in places. Maybe she should ask Nabiki about that yogaerobics thing
she was trying. And breakfast! More than enough reason to start
stepping up the pace.
 She rushes... she fakes... she turns... she trips... ouphe.
 Akane picked herself up from the pile she made with Mousse and,
after some searching, Gosunkugi. Grahh. Both knocked out. They got
into a fight... and Gosunkugi didn't get clobbered? Boys. #~_~ And I
thought this insanity was Ranma's turf only.
 Better get them to Doctor... Tofu's? Ungh. Mousse is heavier than
he looks. Well, Akane, she chided herself, what would you expect of a
hidden weapons master? Rggggh. I need a hand...
 Serendipity and all, Dr. Tofu happened to pass by that self-same
intersection at that self-same time.

 Kodachi rolled in her sleep. And fell. Into the bottom of the
alley.
 Oh, yeah. Tsubasa rolled in his sleep, also.

 Kasumi was getting out of bed as Nabiki returned. Immediately, the
younger shushed the elder, saying, "now, now. Can't you try to relax
once in a while?"
 Both of them had in mind to humor the other. "Oh, all right. But
I will have to return that downstairs."
 "Tut, tut. I am not having any of that." As soon as Kasumi was in
a sitting position at the head of the bed, Nabiki placed the tray she
brought across the long-haired woman's lap.
 Kasumi looked at the bowl of miso, and gave Nabiki an approving
look. Snapping off her chopsticks, she asked, "aren't you having any,
Nabiki?"
 "Oh, don't worry, sis. I've tasted it myself." Kasumi actually
smiled at that. "No, I'm just waiting for someone." She whispered, "now
just where could that girl be?"

 "Oh, there you are." Nodoka reached into a corner behind the
refrigerator. "I should have looked in there first."
 Surely enough, the ancestral sword of the Saotome clan shone
gleefully. Though she was severely tempted to practice some kendo katas,
she quickly sheathed the gay blade.
 Hefting it so that it slipped in between the brown obi and the
light blue kimono she wore, she went through the last-minute checks,
making sure that she had the keys which she would hand over to her
neighbors... oh, the cookies. She laughed slightly at her gaffe.
 All things necessary taken care of, Nodoka set off to a hopefully
fruitful visit to the Tendo dojo.
 As she was about to leave, the front door flung outward, and a
harried, yet otherwise nondescript man rushed in. "Madam," he started,
"may I interest you in the truth?"

 Tsubasa has been in rather tight spots in carton boxes.
 A carton box is, after all, a tough spot to be in in the first
place. Being struck by mighty mighty spatulae or being body slammed
while constricting your body to the space of such a box is not a
pleasurable experience.
 However, it would be, to most people, a hypothetical question to be
asked whether or not sharing such space in a carton with a person of the
opposite sex would or would not be a pleasurable experience.
 Hopefully to present an answer, the following sample was observed:
 Tsubasa fell into the alley in the carton, knocked out.
 Kodachi fell into the carton, asleep.
 Neither woke from this.
 Tsubasa rolled, right into Kodachi's face.
 Kodachi wrapped her outstretched arms around Tsubasa.
 Tsubasa woke up, slightly jostled. Concussion possible.
 Kodachi woke up, slightly freshened.
 Kodachi kissed Tsubasa.
 Further testings should prove more precise.

 "He left."
 Ukyo said this very softly, even before she opened her eyes. The
situation made itself evident: Ryoga probably needed to go to a
bathroom, and *poof* gone in two shakes. Another three weeks might pass
before he comes back. She moaned slightly.
 "Ryoga Hibiki, force of nature," she clucked sardonically, as she
stood for her morning toilette, "powerful, unpredictable, and leaves you
breathless afterward." She shook her head, then promised not to be so
fatalistic. Maybe just after a bath.
 Near the bottom of the staircase, as Ukyo turned to the bath's
outer door, she thought she heard noises from the inside. Had she not
been too wistful, these would have registered; they hadn't. On the
other hand, had she been a little more wistful, she might have wished for
Ryoga to actually find the bath, just this once.
 Of course, he wasn't actually looking for it this time.
 All Ryoga knew was that he was suddenly in a bath. Unfortunately,
it takes him even longer to get out of a bath than into it, there being
two doors and all. Open one, and, "agh! the hot tub!" Turn around,
open the door, "agh! the hot tub!" And so on. Fortunately, so far,
with all that water, hot and cold, he hadn't undergone any swift changes.
 Someone. At the door.
 Oh no. Like the proverbial trapped animal, Ryoga did as instincts
told him: panic like a headless chicken.
 Ukyo opened the door. Ryoga backed up and hoped to God there was a
way out of this situation. What there was was a faucet.
 A cold water faucet.
 Ukyo stood mystified as Ryoga just... just dissolved before her.
And underneath all of Ryoga's clothes was a very, very wet pig.