Disclaimer:Not mine, I'm not Japanese.

Chapter 2

Ranma's POV, roughly. I apologize for the excessive pronoun confusion.

Ranma scowled at the rain-soaked courtyard, thoroughly disgusted with everything in sight. He was still in his traveling clothes, which didn't fit him nearly so well in the rain. At least no men had come up to "her" in an attempt to win her over for despicable deeds. Everyone was just way too enthralled with that little Princess. Who was just another girl as far as he was concerned.

A dark shape appeared in the doorway, the vague shadow of an umbrella hanging over its head. Wonderful. Probably some servent who would escort him to a dingy little room. . . he wanted to go home, to sleep in HIS own bed, to go hunting with HIS dogs, to be with HIS friends. Stupid pop and the merchants and that STUPID Jusenkyo. . .

"Come in out of the rain," a woman's voice said. Scowling, Ranma complied. As he grew closer, the woman's features grew solid through the wall of rain. Ranma held back the small gasp trying to erupt from his, no her, damnit, throat.

"Princess," Ranma said solemnly, bowing because by the time he remembered he was supposed to curtsey, it was too late. He was surprised to see her curtseying. Heck, he was surprised to see her at all. What sort of noblewoman greets dirty travelers personally? Especially unexpected dirty travelers.

"Princess Ranma," the blue-haired girl countered. She had a kind smile on her face. Princess Ranma, was it? That just didn't sound right. "You are the duaghter of my father's friend, are you not?" A puzzled look passed over her face. "Which friend? He would not tell me."

Wonderful. Just wonderful. Time to spill SOME of the beans. Ranma would lose nothing by being friendly to the little princess. Or so the cursed boy dearly hoped.

"Truthfully, my lady," she said, bowing again in that sweeping gesture used for equals, not superiors. "I am in hiding. My father sent me here so I would be safe from the. . . the demons trying to. . ." Ranma grasped at straws. "Take over the bodies fo women in my family." Phew.

"That's odd," Princess Akane frowned. "I have not heard of any such happenings."

"I have traveled a terribly long way," Ranma admitted. The Princess studied her for a moment, then gave an imperceptible shrug. She held out a hand to Ranma.

"Shall we be friends?" she said, a kind smile flitting across her face. For what seemed an eternity, Ranma stared at that hand. It was bare, no gloves to hide the short nails and callouses of a martial artist's hand. So the famous Akane was a fighter? And she expected him to hold hands with her? For a moment, he regarded the gesture with all the arrogance of a prince who has had too many women after him. Thoughts like, she's just trying to get to my crown or my body and such like things, but then he remembered he was a girl. It was just a kind gesture. A small gesture, but one Ranma appreciated.

"Sure."

He, or she, rather, took Akane's hand. The taller girl squeezed it gently, and drew Ranma into the protective circle of the umbrella. She smiled at Ranma, and the little redhead felt her heart speed up. Was there something to this love-at-first sight bull after all? Was there something extraordinary about this girl?

"Let's get you some dry clothes," Akane smiled. Not a gown fit for a princess. No disdainful glance at her dirty pants. Yes, there was something very special about this Princess Akane indeed. Ranma had a feeling, however, that it wasn't what the sonnets said it was.

The Princess, it seemed—the famous and beautiful princess all the poets were simply gagging over—was a tomboy.

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King Soun threw the papers into the fire, watching as they crinkled and burned. Those papers held the truth fo his friend Saotome's fate, written out by a rather clever panda who was. . . surprise, surprise, his friend Saotome.

"I'm glad you came," he said softly. He turned big, weepy eyes to Genma. "For many reasons, old friend, but I'm especially glad you brought your. . . daughter."

Genma the panda flashed up a sign that said, "What? You want him to divert some of Akane's suitors?"

Soun waved the idea away. "Quite the opposite, actually. She's doing a good job of diverting them herslef. Too good, in fact. I want to be a grandfather, Genma. . ." a conspiratorial glint came to his eyes. "And you know, we always wanted our families tied somehow."

"But he's a she at the moment," the pnda sign flashed. Soun waved the matter away as if it was of no importance.

"Which means he'll actually get to speak to her. She never talks to men, other than myself and one or two servants. Let them grow close as female friends, and then he can tell her the truth and win her over."

"You actually think that's going to work?" came the sign from the panda. Genma had narrowed his eyes at Soun, as if contemplating the possibilities of madness.

"Worth a try," Soun muttered, before falling back into an old armchair. "Let's. . . not tell them about this idea just yet. Surprises are always appreciated."

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"You're a martial artist!" Princess Akane gasped, a wide grin spreading across her face. Ranma felt and answering smile come unbidden to her own mouth. "Do you want to go spar?" the blue-haired princess asked. Ranma blinked at her.

"Don't you have to go be flattered and stuff?" Ranma asked, somewhat tactlessly. "Suitors to attend, dresses to try on, handkerchiefs to embroider?"

"Ugh," Akane grimaced, shuddering slightly. "Please stop, you're going to make me ill if you keep talking like that." She turned chocolate brown eyes on Ranma, a suspicious look crossing her face. "Don't tell me YOU do that kind of. . ."

"No," Ranma said quickly. She frowned at Akane, utterly confused. "But. . . I have never in my entire life had a man try to marry me." Well, at least THAT was strictly true. "You, on the other hand, have a palace swarming with suitors. How did you manage that if you never do all the things. . . well. . ." the redhead searched for a word. "things girls do?"

Akane laughed at Ranma, a short bitter laugh, still holding her hand and leading her through the palace. They stopped in front of some heavy ornate doors, twice as tall as the girls were, and Akane pushed one open one-handed.

"Those idiots? Don't be silly. If my name weren't plastered all over the stupid sonnets few of them would even know what it was. They don't want me, they want to win," she explained, anger seeping through her voice. Ranma blinked at her.

"Win what?" she asked, very confused now. She was beginning to wonder if all those princesses she'd met over the years were simply acting like little fools because a Prince was in the room. What if they were all like this when it was only other girls around? What if every simpering little idiot he'd ever met was secretly a human being?

What an astonishing concept.

Akane led her petite companion through another set of very large, very heavy doors into what appeared to be a bedchamber. There was a huge four-poster bed, complete with canopy and dried flower garlands in the corners. Three giant wardrobes essentially covered one wall. The most odd feature of the room, if this was indeed the Princess' chamber, was the large bookcase covering yet another wall.

People actually teach princesses to read? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad being married to one, eventually. Sort of like a mild torture instead of the screaming hell she had formerly expected.

"The grand contest of our age, Princess Ranma," Akane sighed, striding over to one of the wardrobes. She flung it open, revealing quite a few pants, shorts, and more sensible skirts than the petticoated flowing monster she was surrently wearing. "They are all trying to win the unwinnable bride. All right," she said, surveying the closet. "Until we get some clothes for you, I think you'd better borrow some of these."

Ranma blinked, not sure how to respond to that. She'd had girl friends before, mostly servents and the minor nobility, but they'd never. . . They'd never been this. . . well, normal. This Akane acted like a guy.

Ranma looked nervously at the huge bed. If she was generous enough to share her clothes, would she want to share her room? Did princesses do that with visiting princesses? Princes didn't, but then girls were naturally more prone to run in packs. Of course, this Akane was more like a boy than a girl. Still, what if she wanted to share a room with "Princess" Ranma? Change. . . sheesh. . . clothing in the same room? That was all very well and good for other princesses, but Ranma had this feeling that as soon as hot water hit him. . . all hell would break loose.

"What would you like? Pants, like those you're wearing? A skirt?" Akane waved a hand over Ranma's eyes, snapping her out of her reverie. Her expression was somewhat worried. "I can get you a ballgown, if you're more comfortable in those things."

"No, I, er. . . pants, please," Ranma said weakly. Akane gestured towards the wardrobe, indicating that Ranma should get her own clothing. Ranma complied, picking out a pair of dark purple cotton pants and a light green jerkin. They were boys clothes. Was it possible that Akane had also been to Jusenkyo . . . Just about that time, Ranma noticed that Akane was unfastening the buttons on the side of her gown. Those bright blue eyes grew wide.

"Oh, please don't!" she said, her voice cracking in her panic. Akane looked up at her in surprise.

"I'm just going to take off the corset," she said. Ranma eyed her dress nervously.

"How many layers of cloth are there until you get to the corset?" she asked. Akane looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. How could she explain the importance of this? How could she tell the only friend she had here that the first words she'd spoken were a lie?

"Well, all of them except my shift. Have you never worn a gown before?"

"No."

"You won't like it," Akane assured her. She resumed unbuttoning the buttons. Ranma raised her hand to stop her, hesitated as the old ettiquette about touching a lady kicked in, and then continued as she rememebred that at the moment she, too ,was a lady. Akane looked at her, surprised to feel that restraining hand.

"Please. . . . please don't. I'm very shy about these things," Ranma smiled, hoping she looked sufficiently innocent and believable. As tempting as it was to watch the object of so very many desires strip down to a thin bit of cotton, Ranma liked all her bones intact.

"Oh," Akane said, frowning breifly then shrugging. She walked over to the door and rang a small but rather piercing bell hanging by the doorjamb. Within moments, a young woman in a black and white starched uniform came through the door (which Akane ahd to open for her).

"Nettie, would you be so kind as to take Princess Ranma to the south green room? I think she'd like those quarters." Akane turned her gaze to Ranma as the girl bobbed in a small curtesy. "I'll come get you in a few moments, all right? Then I'll show you the dojo," Akane winked as Nettie lead Ranma out of the room. They walked precisely forty-six paces—Ranma counted—and then Ranma was led through a somewhat ordinary, if slightly larger than usual, door. The room inside, however, was beautiful. Decked entirely in pale green, with light oak furniture it was spacious and airy and. . . somehow rather feminine.

Nettie helped Ranma take off the wet traveling clothes, hang them to dry by the fire (which wasn't burning, so the action was somewhat useless) and get into the baggy boy's clothes she'd picked up from Akane. A few moments after the last button was buttoned there was a knock at the door.

Ranma waied a moment for Nettie to go answer the door, but then realized the maid was looking at her expectantly. With an elaborate and long-suffering sigh, she went to answer it herself.

"I said NO!" she heard as the door swung open. The scene in the hallway was certainly odd. Princess Akane, dressed in light yellow pants and tunic, was standing over the prone form of a man holding quite a lot of jewelry. A sizable lump was growing on his head. Akane glanced up at Ranma, then grabbed her hand and began to run down the hallway. Her hands were warm and calloused, tiny in their structure but firm.

"What was all that about?" Ranma asked as they ran.

"Boys, stupid, stupid boys!" Akane snarled, ignoring the question. A crowd of them was approaching quickly, shouting poems and holding baubbles. "I HATE BOYS! I HATE,HATE, HATE BOYS!" she screamed, launching herself at them. She immeadiately began demolishing the men, a punch there, a kick here, everywhere screams and the flash of pale, slender limbs.

::She thinks about as much of her suitors as I think of mine,:: Ranma thought, smiling. The gaggle of simpering young girls passed through his mind briefly, and he shuddered.

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Thus it went, and they grew to be friends, with Princess Akane thinking of Ranma as a girl and Prince Ranma thinking of Akane as one of the guys.