Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter 5

Yori regarded Kasumi's kitchen with a sort of fearful fascination. There were so many strange tools, so very many implements she=d never heard of, much less seen. And the machines! She'd never really thought such intricate things would be needed to cook. The oddest was a little black box which Kasumi had called a microwave, and explained that it used a form of radiation to cook. Yori had been to Hiroshima, or so she thought, and the very idea of using such a thing to cook with was horrifying. Of course, it was probably a different type of radiation, but still. . . hadn't these people ever heard of fire?

"I think this turned out rather well", Kasumi smiled, that same blank smile she had worn all afternoon. Yori regarded the meal they'd prepared speculatively. Sure, it was a lot fancier than what she and her father normally ate, but would it taste as good? She tried to remember all the new words she'd learned while they were cooking, and found them slipping away from her. It didn't matter much, Kasumi had said she could come back every day that summer and learn how to use a kitchen.

Akina and Haru, as well as the other little gremlins, were calmer now that Ayame was gone and food was on its way. In fact, aside from the baby Kasumi carried on her hip, they had all gone elsewere to amuse themselves. She had absolutely no idea how Kasumi and Ayame could accomplish anything in the midst of all the screaming brats.

"My husband should be home soon," Kasumi announced, handing the baby to Yori. Yori froze, desperately afraid she'd hurt the little thing. It was so delicate, so very soft. She was going to break it. "I should set the table," Kasumi continued.

"No, I'll do that," Yori said quickly, and handed the baby back to its mother. "Just tell me what to do."

With some confusion but, miraculously, no smashed dishes, the table was set. And just in time, because the door opened just as Yori was putting the last plate down.

"I"m home!" a deep voice rang out. A wider, brighter smile crossed Kasumi's face, and she toddled towards the doorway. Yori, left alone and akward in the dining room, could still hear their voices, and what she heard made her blush with the causal intimacy of it. She just kept thinking, ::What must they do all the bloody time, to have so many children so close together?::

"Welcome home, darling. And you've brought a guest!"

"Yes, honey, sorry I didn't call to warn you. He was the last patient I had today, and we don't see much of him, after all. I hope it won't be too much trouble?"

"Oh, no. Yori and I made plenty of food."

"Yori is here?" a new voice asked, and the sound of it made her blood run cold. Mocchio. Dr. Tofu had brought Mocchio home, to eat the meal she and Kasumi had so carefully made. She looked at the food laid out on the table in front of her, briefly thinking about throwing it all away. It would be better than letting him eat it, letting him tell her how horrible it was, what a wild beast she was . . .

"Yes, she is. She's a wonderful cook."

"I think you two can manage to be civil at dinner, don't you?" Dr. Tofu asked.

"Hard to be civil to someone who=s never been a part of civilization," Mocchio said dryly. Yori clenched her hands into fists. How dare he? She looked around for a means of escape. Her eyes found the door she thought led to the kitchen, and she remembered the back door that room contained. She could escape. She had no idea where she'd escape to, but anything would be better than this.

She strode out through the door, and found herself staring at the entryway of the Tofu residence. Dr. Tofu, Kasumi, and Mocchio all stared at her. She was trapped.

The meal began normally enough. The little children would occasionally throw food at her, at Mocchio, and at each other. Kasumi and Dr. Tofu ignroed them, much too absorbed in staring into each other's eyes to be concerned with such things. It was almost nauseating. Mocchio ate stoically, without looking at her.

What a freaking lovely evening.

The food was good, but after a few bites she was really just pushing it around on her plate, not feeling that her stomach was up to such endeavors. She kept waiting for Mocchio's cruel comment. He didn't dissapoint her. At last he cleared his throat and raised those blazing blue eyes to meet hers.

"You know, this really is rather good for someone who couldn't read the ingredients," he said softly. She glared at him, torn between tears and screaming rage. What had she ever done to him? Did he think she liked this engagement any more than he did? And who said it would be him, anyway? Makoto at least acted like a human being towards her.

"What would you know? The food at your house is always so terrible it must singe your taste buds," she retorted. He stiffened slightly. The twins did most of the cooking, she knew that. And she was telling the truth, as far as it went. None of the Saotomes were very good cooks.

"I'm surprised you noticed. After all, a good portion of taste is the ability to smell, and you had your own overwhelming odor," he replied, his tone entirely urbane.

"Hrm. I challenge you to spend three months in the wilderness and come out smelling pleasant," she said calmly, smiling a little now. He couldn't win this argument. All he had was her appearance coming out of the woods, and that couldn't hurt her. She didn't care about what she looked or smelled like.

He stared at her for a moment.

And went back to eating.

::Twice in one day I have bested you, Mocchio,:: Yori thought contentedly. She found that, quite suddenly, she was hungry again. Mocchio couldn't hurt her with his stupid insults.

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"All right," Goro sighed, regarding Akane, Koemi and Ayame carefully. "Let me get this straight. I'm supposed to let the three of you go out alone in search of your," he looked at Koemi, "psychotic father and your," he looked at Akane, "sex-changing husband. Does this sound about right?"

"Someone has to be here with Takeo, and look for Ryouga," Akane said practically. Goro glared at her. He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all. He especially didn't like the way Koemi kept staring at Ayame. There was a creepy sort of adoration in that dark gaze that he didn't trust one bit. If Koemi were a boy, he'd simply have taken her aside and threatened to tear her arms off if she hurt Ayame. But Koemi was a girl, and you can't just go around threatening tiny, fragile-looking women for looking at somebody the wrong way. And the most frustrating part was, he couldn't come up with a good reason to go with them.

Makoto, whom everyone had more or less forgotten was upstairs, rushed down them in an untucked white dress shirt and black jeans. Akane cocked an eyebrow at him.

"And just where are you going?" she asked.

"Koemi and I are going on a date," he announced, grinning at the small girl. Koemi opened her mouth to protest, but had to clamp it shut again. She had to admit, what she'd suggested to Makoto earlier that day did sound a lot like a date. She glanced at Ayame, who was smiling down at her. A warm rush flooded her bloodstream, and she smiled back. If going on a date with Makoto would make Ayame like her more, she was game for it. As long as he kept his hands to himself.

"Fine. You two have fun," Akane shrugged, and she and Ayame turned to leave. Koemi watched Ayame with a rising sense of panic.

"No!" she gasped, and they turned to look at her. Crap. "Oh, I, ah. . . well, it was my father who started the trouble, right? I want to go with you," she announced.

"I'll come too," Makoto said, not even knowing or caring what he was volunteering for. "We can go on our date after."

Goro watched them all leave, his eyes narrow with suspicion. He had a hunch, just a hunch, that the tiny Koemi Kuno had no interest whatsoever in either of the twins. She seemd far, far more iterested in Ayame. Sweet, strong Ayame who always seemed more like a mother figure than a teenage girl. He couldn't blame Koemi for liking the blue-haired girl, but if she did. . . it was just tough for her.

For months now, he'd been quietly finding out who among her classmates wanted to date Ayame, and challenging them. He let them pick the weapons used, of course, according to the rules of dueling. Some of them chose a physical fight, some chose some sort of race, some chose an intellectual battle. Those were always the hardest for him. But he'd won every single challenge and made them promise to give up on her. It was barbaric, but effective. Very effective.

She was the reason he'd come to this ridiculous little dojo in the first place, after all. He was a martial artist before, of course, but a wandering one. He'd wandered all the way to Nerima, from Osaka, in search of a dojo, or hell, he'd have settled for a job and a warm bed by the time he'd come to Tokyo. He'd wandered past her aunt's house, and seen her playing with the children. There was such an air of calm and collected beauty about her, an aura of quiet kindness. More than that was the overwhelming sense of home she carried with her. Even now, when she was gone from the dojo it seemed just an empty shell of a place.

He'd followed her home that day, careful not to be seen. He didn't want to scare her, he just wanted to know who she was. When she entered the dojo, he knew it had to be fate that brought him to her. He'd knocked on the gate immeadiately and asked to be accepted as a disciple. He hadn't known her name, or what sort of martial arts they practiced, and it didn=t matter. He'd spent his time since then alternating a covert sort of watching her and training. He knew every habitual gesture she had, every nervous habit, every little quirk.

And she had no idea.

He had forgotten, at some point, to let her know anything. How he felt, why he=d come to the dojo. Now that he knew her better, he had the rather discouraging idea that if she knew, it would frighten her. So he waited, and he watched for the moment when she would need him. One of those rare weak moments in which he could comfort her, protect her, show her somehow what he could give her. What he wanted from her.

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"This is SO beyond old," Ranma muttered, dashing across the rooftops. He hadn't been a girl in a long time, and he found the changes in balance difficult to compensate for. Moreover, without a shirt his bare breasts were bouncing up and down, violently, with every step he took. Or rather, she took.

Kuno was still in hot pursuit, and it wasn=t lost on him that Ranma was headed straight for his estate.

"Oh, my beloved pigtailed girl, you too must long for an amorous reunion!" he cried, his eyes welling with happy tears. Ranma ran faster. When he was sixteen, he hadn't had much of an idea what Kuno was talking about. Oh, he knew the basics, but now. . . now that he had a more detailed idea, the very thought of Kuno touching him made his blood run cold.

He leapt over the wall of the Kuno estate, headed straight for the pond of Mr. Green Turtle. The alligator, it seemed, had not survived the ravages of time. As Ranma dove into the cool water, he felt his body shift and some rather noticible changes occur. He climbed back out onto the shore, to see Kuno trembling with rage over him.

"What. Have. You. Done. With. My. Beloved?"

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"Mom, how do you know where they'll be?" Ayame asked, her voice smooth despite the furious pace they were setting. Koemi ran just behind her, sulking as Makoto ran just behind Koemi, more to see her hair flowing back than anything else.

"I've done this before," Akane said lightly. She leapt over the walls of the Kuno estate and ran towards the voices. She could hear them now, shouting at each other. When they came into view, Kuno and Ranma were simply standing beside Mr. Green Turtle=s pond, screaming in each other's faces.

"You vile sorcerer, you made me think she was dead!" Kuno screamed.

"You stupid, worthless man! She was never alive! What do I have to do to convince you of that?" Ranma shouted back. Akane stopped a few feet from them considering the options.

"Hey, Kuno, was that a red-haired woman I just saw rushing into your house?" Akane asked clamly. Both men looked at her in shock. Kuno's face erupted into an expression of rapture, and he ran into the house, shouting the usual trite romantic phrases. Ranma smirked.

"When did you learn to be so devious?" he asked her. She grinned at him.

"I picked it up from you. That was much, much easier than I thought it would be," she announced. Ayame, Koemi, and Makoto, who were all standing behind Akane, glowered at her.

"This really didn't require all of us, you know," Ayame grumbled. She turned to her brother and Koemi and her expression brightened. "You two may as well head out on your date."

"Date?" Ranma asked.

"Yeah, this is Kuno Koemi," Makoto grinned, putting an arm around her shoulders. Koemi stiffened visibly.

"But I, ah. . ." she began. She looked around at all the smiling, waiting faces. She didn't have much of a choice. Unless she wanted to come out of the closet right then and there, there was no good reason not to go with Makoto.

"Where do we go first?" she asked, stepping out form under his arm. He ignroed the move and thought about the question for a moment.

"Do you like okonomiyaki?"