Guest Ki: Chapter 2

Fences

'Damn! They do get in the way, don't they?'

'Oh, shut up,' grumped Ranma Saotome. It was only twenty-four hours since they had left the Tendo's. Barry had suggested that an island or lakefront would be best for their purposes, considering some of the odd friends Ranma had. Ranma had remembered the lake below the cliffs where he and Ryoga had faced off after the lost-boy's Bakusai Tenketsu training. It was isolated, familiar and heavily forested, as well. After a cold swim to the island, the red-haired girl started camp preparations by building a fire. The fire would heat water for her transformation back to her normal male form.

For Barry, girl-type Ranma was strange and intriguing. The difference in balance, hormones and emotionality was subtle, yet significant in hundreds of ways. Colors looked slightly different, foods tasted differently. The way the girl used her upper body strength focused on different leverage points in hip and leg. Pound for pound, girl-type Ranma was actually stronger than boy-type, except in the shoulders and arms. The machinery of hip and leg was particularly unique and fascinating. The obstruction of Ranma's bosom was minimal, but only because Ranma had learned to compensate for the differences.

'You know, Ranma, I always understood these things were really sensitive. How do you deal with—'

'Bar-ry!' whined Ranma. 'Remember yer a married man, dammit!'

'I'm not hitting on you, Ranma! You'll find after a while, that I'm one of the most insanely curious people on the face of the earth. I know a woman's breasts are nearly as sensitive as a man's… uh, ummm... never mind. I was going to ask how you dealt with getting hit there during combat.'

'I try not to get hit… especially there.' The reply brought a vivid memory of Akane grabbing her in a totally unexpected and punishing squeeze when P-chan had first showed up. "Do ya mind?"

'Sorry, Ranma. It's not a sexual thing… at least, not in this case. It's... the engineering, the balance... To me, the female body is a thing of beauty, while the male body is... well, slightly humorous, at best.'

"Why don't ya go jump in Jusenkyo, then!" Ranma snarled, embarrassed. The fire finally caught at that point and she concentrated on feeding the flame until it could support the larger sticks and logs.

Barry chuckled. 'Why would I do something silly like that? I'd far rather observe my wife than be her. Besides, women have all sorts of problems men don't, like the 'monthly thing' and you really don't want to know what they're like during pregnancy.' Barry was lost in thought briefly as he remembered his wife, wondering what she was doing, wishing more than anything else that he was back with her...

"Can ya think about somethin' else already?" Ranma was even more embarrassed, uneasy as always about the potential of her female body and guiltily intrigued by the wisps of imagery that slipped from Barry to her concerning certain intimacies with his wife. She quickly set the pot of water on to boil.

'What!'

'Nothin'...'

'Hmmm… You know, you have some unique opportunities here.'

"Don't be a pervert!"

'What's perverted? Look at it this way. Most guys have to guess about the motivations of the girls around them and wonder why they react to different things the way they do. You have a brain. Carefully watching how your perceptions and feelings differ between male and female forms...'

"Oh, kami! I get enough of that around Hiroshi and Daisuke!" lamented Ranma with a groan.

'Oh? Sounds like a remarkably astute…' Ranma ran some mental images of the conversations Hiroshi and Daisuke had inflicted on him. Barry snorted. 'Oh, brother! All right, perverted. A couple of fairly typical, hormonally charged, teenage boys.' He pondered the imagery. 'Do they treat you any differently when you're in your girl-form?' Ranma imaged. Barry winced at Daisuke in particular. The two usually reacted to Ranma as just one of the guys; but as a female, they seemed to think his alternate form was a toythat Ranma had. And friends shared their toys, right?

Finally, the water was sufficiently hot to cause the transformation and Ranma breathed a sigh of relief. He quickly set up a tent and made several tree caches to keep wildlife out of supplies. His obvious competence at this and other preparations brought further comment from Barry, as he compared personal experiences in the Boy Scouts.

Ranma nodded absently. 'OoHOHOHOhohohoho...' Kodachi's laugh echoed in his mind, as he considered yet again how absolutely insane this was. He sighed as Barry apologized again for the inconvenience, then immediately inquired about the fruitcake gymnast. It was bad enough dealing with Akane with the family snooping around. Unfortunately, Barry couldn't be lost or misled, dammit! His wandering mind turned instead to Akane.

'If it helps, those skin-rags Daisuke and Hiroshi pour over do not, in my opinion, represent normal relations between a man and a woman,' Barry broke in, 'especially a husband and wife.'

Startled, Ranma thought back over the times he had been both guiltily intrigued and thoroughly disgusted at some of the things those magazines had portrayed. He found himself relieved... and further intrigued.

'Sorry, man, I am not going there! You gotta find that out on your own, or rather you and whoever you end up choosing. Ummm... You sure you want to think about that with me here?'

Ranma cursed, as his memories had touched on the time Akane had walked in on him in the bath when he first arrived at the Tendo's and from there, toward certain fantasies...

'If you want to keep things like that to yourself, try concentrating on a song you know real well; maybe it'll help drown out the images. Just keep it playing in the background. You know, like elevator music?' Barry gave a couple of examples, then added, 'At least your two friends don't seem to have contaminated you too much. Your fantasies aren't too different from my own when I was getting serious with Gwen…'

"Why does this stuff have to happen to me?" Ranma bellowed at the sky in embarrassment.

Several days passed as Ranma tried to accustom Barry to the problems and sudden demands of unarmed combat. Lacking an opponent, Ranma challenged them with obstacles and preset traps. Hornets' nests were the least of the problems. This day, however, Ranma used the trees to rocket around the camp clearing. He poured on more and more speed and experimented with his various techniques.

Barry Barlowe ricocheted around the inside, so to speak, of Ranma's skull. Did he mention he was not a martial artist? He was, metaphorically speaking, keeping his hands to himself, but was trying to follow what Ranma was doing. He felt the spinning slow to a stop and realized that his host had ceased the massively disorienting movements of the aerial Mutsabetsu Kakuto.

"Hey," exulted Ranma. "We did it! Ten minutes and ya didn't try ta take over once!" Speaking aloud as she usually did here in the privacy of the woods, Ranma danced around the clearing in a more restrained flow of kicks and punches.

'Ranma, I had the opportunity once, to try out a machine designed by NASA to disorient the rider by spinning him in three different directions at the same time,' Barry groaned. 'I thought it was kind of fun, but a few people got sick trying it.'

"Yeah? Sounds cool."

'Ahhh… Ranma? Could I take over physically for a moment?'

"Why?"

'I really want to be sick!'

Ranma snickered with good-natured contempt. "I guess yer goin' to have to learn some martial arts, Barry."

'There was a time I considered karate, but I never had the cash or the time. I think I was lucky.'

"Oh, ya woulda been all right," Ranma offered, generous for a change. "Remember, yer trying to deal with dan-level speed before ya learn to walk in the Art. Besides, we don't have a choice." She grimaced as the flames flared up when she added more fuel to the fire. "I gotta be a hundred percent sure yer not gonna take over on me in a pinch or, if ya do, that ya won't hurt anyone till I get back in action."

Ranma put more water on to heat. Living in the middle of a lake did have some disadvantages. Of the three times they had tumbled into cold water so far, Barry had been nominally in control twice and felt the full effect of the transformation.

'Ahhh, hot water,' sighed his guest. 'Good idea to keep some around in case of accidents.' Ranma chuckled. 'Ranma, what you do goes beyond simple excellence in the Art. I've watched professional kick-boxing a few times, and it seems to me you move a darn sight faster than I ever saw them do.'

"Ya got me there, Barry." Ranma chuckled and put a lid on the kettle. "The schools of Mutsabetsu Kakuto use ki manipulation to boost the forms that make up their special moves. A student starts out with kempo and a bit of jujitsu and trains only in the physical side of the Art until they're forced into accessing their ki. Not everyone can learn to manipulate ki the way ya need to, though. Those that can, hafta figure it out for themselves. A kempo master can hit ya nearly a dozen times inna second. With advanced ki training, it's possible to increase that ten or twenty times."

Barry had several questions at this assertion, but finally asked, 'What's ki? Is it magic, like Jusenkyo?'

Ranma stuttered, and dropped silent for a moment. "That's right, you're a gaijin. Well, ki is a little like 'the Force'; you know, 'HHHHU-hhhh! HHHHU-hhhh! Luke, I am your father.'"

'You're kidding, right?'

Ranma tried to explain the principle and theory ofbreathing, ki and its association with all existing things, but was somewhat limited herself, as she used it; she didn't research it. "Where's Dr. Tofu when ya need him?" she asked rhetorically, feeling frazzled. She checked the water, which was only steaming, and replaced the lid.

'Ranma?' Barry inquired as the pigtailed girl stuck more twigs in the fire to turn up the heat. 'You've had some pretty strange things happen to you. How do you know I'm not some evil spirit learning how your body works so I can take it over?'

"We know ya can take over," Ranma snorted, "I'm just happy yer tryin' not to! Besides, if ya stick with me too long ya might just take the Nyanniichuancurse with ya when ya go. Ya think yer Gwen would like that?"

Barry shuddered at the idea. 'Oh, man! I don't want to go there!'

"I thought ya said ya have a good relationship?" Ranma's tone was sly.

'Ranma, the key to good relationships is to try to plan things in advance. You consider, in advance, what some action of yours might do to your partner. You try, in advance, to warn them of upsets to the program.'

"What happens when somethin' blows up in yer face?" asked Ranma, getting honestly curious. "Ya know, 'not my fault, not your fault; shit happens'?"

'You get together and work it out, each giving one hundred and ten percent of what they've got, because the other needs it,' Barry returned sternly. 'It doesn't matter if it's a scratch in a car door, an inconvenient diaper change for your kid, or a death in the family. Oh, and significant amounts of physical and verbal reassurance are mandatory!' With some humor and longing, Barry paused, dwelling on some of those moments before getting back to the topic at hand. 'But still, surprises are never a good idea. I think gender switching with water would put a strain on even our relationship.'

"Ya think?" Ranma deadpanned.

'Give me a break!' groused Barry. 'I already know I'm not in the same world I was in.'

Barry had attempted to 'call home'. The slightly different rules for international calls had been shrugged off to bad memory. Barry had only once called an international number. While waiting for the call to be placed he had leafed through a nearby atlas - and felt his guts twist! Barry was very familiar with U.S. geography. What he saw, didn't match his memories at all. He found where his hometown should have been, but it had a different name. Washington, DC was called Washington City. He had almost missed the spelling on Atlanta, Georgia, which was now called Atalanta. Further west, St. Louis was St Lewie. Barry had hoped, for a while, that the atlas merely had misprinted roman-ji. After all, it was not their principal writing system, but minor significant differences in geography combined with the myriad changes in designations had finally convinced him.

'If I do get back and wind up with your curse, Ranma, I probably don't even have a Jusenkyo to get cured at.' Barry sighed again and turned to their present problems. 'At least Akane knows what she's getting!' He snickered as Ranma protested his assumption. 'Where do we go from here, sensei?' Ranma grumbled but was mollified somewhat by the 'sensei' bit.

"Well, we've found I can release control to you. If I do, I can take control back from you." Ranma ran her hand through her hair and sighed herself. "If you're startled or threatened, you usually take control from me, dammit, and I have to wait for you to give it back. Finally, if you have enough warning, you can refuse to take control from me. Does that sound right to you?"

'So far, I guess,' came the reply. 'Of course, we're conceding the takeover bit purely from the experience with Akane, what's-her-name the family extortionist and your parents. It could simply be that they're really scary people.'

Ranma snorted at this attempt at humor and began to do cool down stretches beside the fire. As the water boiled, she reached into her pack for a thermos, dumped the water from it and refilled it.

'How long can a thermos keep water warm enough for the change, Ranma?' inquired Barry, on his curiosity-horse again. 'Is it a matter of temperature, or temperature and quantity?'

Ranma screwed down the thermos cap and frowned. "How much and how hot, I guess," he said finally. "I know I can get a little wet with cold water and not change. I can drink hot or cold beverages without changing. I've never tried it with much less than a glass full of water, hot or cold... No, wait, I did get Ryoga once with a squirt gun..."

'It might be worth experimenting on this. I can see in your memories that Japan gets a lot of rain. Does only water trigger the change? Or does any liquid that is hot or cold?'

Ranma rubbed his head with his fingers. "Wadja need to know all this for?" he muttered, discontented. "What difference does it make?"

'Why does a martial artist pour over old scrolls about forgotten techniques? Knowledge is power, Ranma. In any battle against another of the cursed, it could give you a critical advantage. Besides, who knows, it'd be a real kick in the rear if it turned out your cure was to be immersed in hot salad dressing, wouldn't it? How does waterproof soap work? How…'

"Enough already! Jeez," Ranma grumbled. This Barry guy was more curious than a c-ca-, feline animal. Ranma was also beginning to suspect that Barry was someone who threw himself into a project to take his mind off things he couldn't control. He shook himself and rose to his feet. He really didn't want to be a 'project'.

'All right, Barry! Let's get started,' Ranma commanded, after turning control over to his guest. 'Let's try some basic stances. This is the 'Horse Stance'... Hey, you do that pretty well!'

"I'd better, Ranma," Barry smiled. "I've been teaching dressage for five years now; and I rode English, Western and dressage for a lot longer."

Ranma frowned as a flood of images swept over him of children and adults riding a variety of horses and ponies and commanding them to do peculiar maneuvers. Then the images focused on the dressage tests where riders and horses went through sets of maneuvers to test precision, memory and timing. He grinned.

'Damn! You are a martial artist!'

"Huh?" Barry had been holding his stance as he let Ranma review the memories. "Since when?"

'Martial Arts Horsemanship!'

"How do you figure?"

'Those dressage tests. They're kata!'

Barry laughed. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all.

Akane had blushed crimson when she read the note Ranma passed her. She read it again, cried and then carefully destroyed it. She thought about what it would be like to wait two weeks and act for everyone as if she feared Ranma was gone for good. She swallowed. It wouldn't be too hard. For months now, that had been one of her greatest fears. As she pondered, another one rose up and bit her.

She arrived at the lake, only to see Ukyo or Shampoo, or both, cuddling up to Ranma, waiting for her, smiling.

She clenched her fists, her feelings as turbulent as the air in a hurricane.

The note, in pencil, read:

'Akane, destroy this note after you read it. At the end of the month, come to the mountain lake where Ryoga and I finished our fight after his Bakusai Tenketsu training. I'll meet you at the waterfall. After you get there, we'll...'

The sentence was unfinished.

"We'll what?" she asked herself. The waterfall wasa romantic spot, though.

'I can't forget what happened at the wedding, Akane. The danger to everyone is just going to get worse — for you in particular.'

"Why 'me in particular'? Baka!" She read on; the fact that he'd given her this note was hopeful.

'I chose the lake to slow down our friends who are cursed. The woods will make it tough on the Kuno's with their weapons, or Ukyo, if she shows up, so don't worry if you don't shake them all. Bring the life jacket you got last summer for the boat. I'll haul you across to the island where I'll be training.

'Please, don't bring the pig. He doesn't like me and knowing me, I'll have enough trouble without giving you extra reasons to pound me.'

After that, came a heavily erased area where a closure might be expected and, finally, Ranma's signature.

Akane looked at the pile of ashes in the little bowl beneath her lamp. She wished she hadn't destroyed it quite so quickly. What had Ranma scratched out? How could she find out? It was not like he'd made copies and left them lying around. Ooh! She really wished she hadn't destroyed that note!

Frowning, she tried to pull up a memory she felt tickling about the back of her mind. Copies… secrecy... spying... searching for clues... What was it? Ranma had written in pencil, on the kitchen pad. She could check and see if the pencil marks had pressed through.

She snapped her fingers and dodged out of her room like a scalded (with all due respect to Ranma's ailurophobia) cat. She glided down the stairs and ducked into the kitchen. She'd just pick up the pad and…

"Eeep!" Akane yelped as she discovered her sister had a visitor.

Ukyo jerked upright from where she'd been leaning on the counter. Kasumi looked up and smiled at her little sister. The former looked guilty (as well she should!); the latter looked… well… like Kasumi always did. The kitchen pad rested just beyond Ukyo's fingers. It was all Akane could do to pull herself together and act normally. She nodded at her closest rival.

"What are you doing here?" Akane challenged. Ranma had insisted they not to press charges against Ukyo over the blitzed wedding and, as a result, they couldn't do anything about Shampoo and the Chinese crowd, because they'd drag the okonomiyaki chef down with them. Akane noticed that the other girl had moved her hand almost imperceptibly toward the pad. Internally, she growled. Ukyo was not getting that pad! But, she had to do it in such a way as to avoid both suspicion and an open battle in Kasumi's kitchen.

"Hi, Akane-chan," replied the okonomiyakichef in a small voice. "Where's Ranchan gone?" Akane felt a brief thrill, as she realized her 'role' was upon her. She glowered at the girl she felt had been, if not a friend, then at least a friendly rival. She felt some satisfaction as Ukyo cringed.

"Ranma's not here, Ukyo. He... he left on a training trip." She turned slightly away, letting her own feeling of guilt and bitterness color her features and her body language.

"Yeah, well, I knew that. Met him on the way out with one of my 'Specials'. No sense letting it go to waste." She felt guiltier as her information caused Akane's temper to flare even more. "I… I really went nuts there at the wedding, Akane. I'm sorry."

"How sorry?" Akane snapped and glared.

Ukyo's head picked up a bit. "Not that sorry," she responded. "I'll pay my share of the damages and I'll testify in court if someone tries to stiff you, but I'm not ready to give up on Ranchan yet."

When Ukyo had given Ranma the 'Special', her fiancé insisted he didn't want company and quickly lost her near the train station. Ukyo had been quite put out. Then inspiration struck. She knew that everyone in the family tended to use the kitchen pad for notes, phone numbers and whatnot.

If Ranma had written anything about his destination, she wanted it and knew she could get it by taking a rubbing from the paper beneath the sheet he wrote on. It'd be worth paying for the damages and a week or so of lost business. She started as Kasumi swept past her.

Akane had been seeking unsuccessfully for a plan to take the pad and leave the kitchen undamaged. She finally concluded that there wasn't one to be had on short notice and was mentally apologizing to Kasumi for the coming destruction when her older sister took her by the arm and pulled her out the door.

"Akane-chan, do you know where P-chan is?" Kasumi spoke rather loudly compared to her normal tones. "Father has decided that we should take him to the vet for a checkup."

Akane was startled at the idea. It was so far outside her line of thought at the moment that considering it totally derailed her plans for the kitchen pad.

"Why now, oneechan?" she asked. "It's not like P-chan is acting sick or anything."

"I think it's because of a program Father saw on TV," Kasumi replied, still loudly. "The diseases pigs carry are much more likely to be caught by humans than are those of other animals."

"Well, all right," the youngest Tendo said. "I suppose that sounds fair."

"Father also wants you to consider this," Kasumi added, giving it particular emphasis. "He wants you to give serious thought to the idea of having him 'fixed' while he's getting his checkup."

"What's broken?" Akane didn't get it right away. A muffled snort from Ukyo, who was exiting the kitchen, made her rerun the statement through her mind, and redden in embarrassment.

"You know, Akane. Neuter, castrate… 'snip-snip!' no chance for baby pigs?" snickered the okonomiyaki chef.

"Eeuw!" Akane forgot all about the kitchen tablet and winced. "Poor P-chan!"

"Well, it's not like we're trying to raise pigs like Ryoga's friend, Akari," giggled Kasumi. "Anyway, the procedure is supposed to reduce the levels of aggression in male animals and maybe it will help him be more tolerant of Ranma. P-chan does start a large number of the fights those two have." Kasumi said the last with a hint of reproach.

Akane sighed and looked even sadder. Ranma's note sort of hinted that as well, but having Kasumi confirm it prevented her from simply blaming Ranma's irrational jealousy about her little pet. Ukyo moved past them toward the front door.

"Oh, well, gotta fly! If you see Ranchan before me, let him know I was asking about him. See ya!" She was out the door and over the wall in a flash.

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Akane. "The kitchen pad!" She burst into the kitchen. She groaned. That sneak, Ukyo, had taken it. She growled in rage. This would ruin everything. Vaguely, she was aware of Kasumi moving past her and opening a drawer under the counter.

"Are you looking for this?"

Akane looked blankly at the pad in Kasumi's hand. Faintly she could make out the imprint of hiragana from a missing page. She began to hope.

"Kasumi, how..."

"Ranma never puts the tablet back where it belongs when he uses it," her sister sighed, sounding aggrieved. "I found it in the hall after I had started using a new pad. When Ukyo came in, I put it in the drawer." Her eyes twinkled. "Ukyo really must like the design on this stationary, ne?"

"Oneechan, you are wonderful!" Akane gushed, clutching the pad to her chest and nearly dancing in glee. "Oops! I... uh... That's great, I mean."

"Ranma presses so hard when he writes. You don't really need to rub across to read it."

"Eeep!" She let the light fall across the page bringing it into clear relief. She moved it this way and that, trying to read the erased closure of the message.

"Next week, you should take the train to see Aunt Makiko because you're feeling depressed," Kasumi whispered seriously, ignoring her reaction. "I'm sure she'll let you stay till you need to go on the training trip. Her house just happens to be in a little town slightly north of where you want to go."

"Oh, Kasumi!" Akane hugged her sister. The closure, carefully erased, held the word 'love' and she knew Ranma never signed anyone's letters with that particular emotion. Kasumi struggled for a moment her ribs creaking, before Akane released her.

"Oh, eErk, my..." Kasumi grimace turned into a smile. "You're quite wel-COMe... Akane! My ribs..."

'Where am I now!' P-chan tried to dig his way through the binding layers of cloth. It was a dark and lonely place. Ranma had cost him his humanity. Now, his male identity was in jeopardy! He had left Akane's room the same time she had, but had stopped at the top of the stairs, unwilling to get lost in the lower house. He had clearly heard the conversation between Kasumi, Ukyo and Akane. The mention of 'vet' made him shiver. When the pretty chef had so casually said 'ca-ca-cas—', he had immediately begun preparations for travel.

He should have known that when he tried to leave a place, his cursed lack of direction would nail him down.

Ryoga began wondering whether he should attempt a Shishi Houkudan while in his cursed form. He squealed in frustration. Then suddenly, he could see light. The little animal struggled to free himself, only to feel two strong, feminine hands firmly grasp him and untangle him from the spare sheets in the hall closet.

Kasumi gently, but firmly, grasped the small black pig. "Bad P-chan! I'm going to have to wash those sheets again." She turned. "Akane, P-chan was in the hall closet."

"Thanks, Kasumi." Akane skipped over, reached out and hugged P-chan firmly to her chest before he could decide whether to risk hurting Kasumi to get away. Of course, he would never even scratch Akane. It always felt so warm and loving in her arms. P-chan's ears twitched as Kasumi spoke.

"I called the veterinarian's office, Akane," she was saying. "We have an appointment first thing next week."

'Next week?' thought a panicked P-chan.

"I don't think I want P-chan fixed, Kasumi. Isn't he fine just the way he is?"

'Oh, yes! You tell her, Akane.'

"I really think it would be for the best, Akane. You know how the animal shelters carry on about people leaving their pets...'natural'." Kasumi fixed a calm and apparently loving look on the pig, which shivered for some reason. "I'm sure that it will only improve his temper. Why don't you lock him in your room? He gets lost as often as Ryoga, for heaven sake! That way, we won't need to hunt for him when it's time."

"Okay, Kasumi." Akane skipped back to her room and kissed P-chan affectionately on the snout. "Wait here you bad little piggy! I'll be up later." She gave him a little shove and shut the door before he could make a break for it.

Inside the locked room, Ryoga/P-chan looked around desperately for some escape. Akane had just... given in. How could she! It must be Ranma's fault somehow. The door refused to yield to his scrabbling. Maybe he could hide. If he hid well enough, they'd think he'd escaped.

After some investigation, he found a place where he thought he might be safe. It smelled so nice. Briefly, he wondered where he had gotten. He yawned. Maybe he could get out tomorrow after Akane went out. She wouldn't lock her door if she thought he was gone and he could open any unlocked door in the house. Reassured, he fell asleep.

Akane was really aggrieved the next morning when she pulled open the drawer. The blinking piglet had gotten a really good look at her unadorned upper body. As a result, he had sprayed blood over most of her undergarments before passing out.

An emergency call to the vet after the incident had sent a concerned Akane with a panicked P-chan to Dr. Kobetamiya for a quick consultation. P-chan was practically frothing with fright. The vet quickly gave the little animal a tranquilizer as its struggles were upsetting the other animals. The doctor had found nothing wrong with Akane's pet to her great relief. She inquired delicately whether the doctor would really recommend 'fixing' P-chan if he was in such good shape.

"Well, Tendo-san, there are some advantages to the procedure." Dr. Kobetamiya regarded the drowsy piglet on the examination table. "Aggression, of course, is often reduced..."

P-chan was feeling no pain. He beamed as Akane once more took up the gauntlet for him. As the doctor countered her concerns, he struggled to his feet and bleared unsteadily across the table. Groggily he identified the blob that was the doctor. As he rose on his haunches, he wondered if Mousse would see any better under the circumstances. For once, he resented the Master of Hidden Weapons. He never heard of anyone threatening to castrate a duck. Feeling moderately secure, he proceeded to weave his front legs in an offer to the good doctor to put up his dukes.

"Ummm..." The doctor stared at the surprisingly agile piglet. He could swear the little beast was challenging him to combat. "I think you said that he disappears a lot?"

"Hai! P-chan is always getting lost," Akane answered. 'Just as bad as Ryoga, in his own way,' she added to herself darkly.

"Well, little boy animals like P-chan have good noses and if they think they smell a little girl pig, they may travel several kilometers to find her."

"Oh-ho!" Akane exclaimed, laughing. "You little hentai, P-chan! You've been unfaithful to me."

P-chan was lucky he was tranquilized. The shock of such a statement, unbuffered, might have killed him. Instead, he toppled gracelessly over and gazed lovingly up into Akane's smile. 'You can cut me up and hang me for sausages any day, my love,' he thought as he 'bwee'-ed softly before passing out.

He awakened suddenly and found himself in a little nest of pillows and sheets in Akane's room again. Disoriented, he staggered up and looked around, feeling much like he had the few times he had gotten drunk. A horrible thought invaded his mind.

Had they… had they done it? He swallowed. He tried to look, but pigs aren't built very well for personal examination. Would he even be able to tell? He circled in the nest a few times and sweated, big time. Manhood, hell! Was he still male?

Carefully, he tried to press himself against things and finally determined that everything seemed to be there and nothing felt sore. Moderately relieved, he trotted to the door and waited his chance to escape. Concentrating, much as he would before delivering the controlled strike of his breaking-point technique, he waited.

He heard the door latch click and the creak of the hinges. He was focused. He was operating on instinct and timing to make his break. He lunged.

Kasumi looked shocked as P-chan crashed into the closed closet door in Akane's bedroom. He staggered back and bounced on his rear, eyes crossed in pain. He wove his way back to the nest of pillows and collapsed. He was going nowhere until he could tell which room he was in.

"You poor thing," he heard Akane's sister say. "Don't worry, they haven't done it yet."

P-chan leaned his sore head against the wall and used pressure to ease the pain. He was glad. Somehow, Kasumi always did know the right thing to say or do to comfort.

P-chan missed his chance when Akane came to bed. 'Tomorrow,' he thought. Tomorrow, he'd try the window.