Foreword: So, to be honest, I haven't written anything for a long time and a whole bunch of half written chapters of this are sitting on my laptop. This is me trying to get back into writing.

For anyone who hasn't heard of or hasn't watched Ranma 1/2, it's fine. For the purposes of this story just think of them as strong and very quirky martial artists. Not too different from the Kenichi cast in most ways, but I figure it's a good jumping off point for this story's purposes. I'll try to mention details relevant to this story as they come up, but if there's ever anything that doesn't make sense, go ahead and tell me and maybe I'll fix it.

By the way, Disclaimer: I Own Nothing of Star vs the Forces of Evil or Kenichi: the mightiest disciple, or Ranma 1/2 for that matter. I should look up who does, really.

The Wanderers

My breath came out in steady bursts of steam that dissipated into the cool morning air. The only other sound came from the steady drag of my tire on the asphalt.

It was routine now, these brutal morning jogs. After months of being woken up at the break of dawn, I don't even think I could go back to sleeping in.

It was a little awkward at first, getting used to listening to all of Honoka's 'suggestions', but I did get used to it eventually. Not that I had a choice, she was very convincing. It was a good thing I did too because she was good at it. It was nothing like practicing How To Karate under Brantley. It felt like she always knew exactly what she was doing, even with the strangest of her training.

Every day I felt like I was making real progress, one step at a time, to being a great martial artist.

My pace picked up to a relentless sprint once the hill in the town park came into view. My body and mind screamed at me to stop, but it was old hat ignoring the pained voice in the back of my head by now.

Honoka's training had stepped up a notch a few weeks ago. But the way she changed it was very strange to me. She was VERY particular in how I trained now. Not so much what I was doing, she encouraged just about every exercise imaginable, but how I did it.

Every movement had to be both intense and controlled. There was no half-assing anything, and there was very little in the way of breaks. Whenever I tried too hard and got tired, or wasn't trying enough and didn't get tired, she would scold me for it. It was a very thin line I had to walk.

When I asked her why it was so awkward and unintuitive she explained it to me. Basically there were two types of muscles: White muscles which have explosive power and very little in the way of stamina, then there are Red muscles which have very little power, but can keep going far longer than white muscles. Most people alternated between the two, but there is a lesser known middle ground. Pink muscles.

So, that was the goal, apparently. As far as I could tell, this meant never doing anything lightly. Everything was intense and pushed beyond what I thought my body could do.

My legs nearly faltered as I crested the hill and took deep gasps of breath. Every instinct told me to fall on the ground right now, but that just meant I couldn't allow it even more. I slowly walked forward with intent, both tense and fluid, slipping into long ingrained stances of a kata.

All of this would pay off in the end. I knew this for a fact, because I knew someone who did this before. I often stayed up during the night, re-reading the journal of Kenichi Shirahama. He was amazing. No matter what obstacle, or how scared he was, he had always pulled through. He had always faced his masters, or his enemies head on, no matter his insecurities. And he was stronger for it. It was inspiring. So how could I do anything but my best to become a great martial artist that Honoka, and everyone else could look up to.

Halfway through my cool-down I sighed and fell to the ground, realizing that I had slipped into an old How To kata while I was lost in thought instead of the exercises Honoka had taught me. That wasn't good. I had renounced the style. I couldn't just return to it so easily.

I crossed my legs and just sat in thought, allowing myself to finally relax. It had been months now since I had stopped How To Karate and Honoka started training me. I found myself falling into old habits a lot and Honoka hadn't actually taught me anything besides how to exercises.

But then, how am I supposed to throw a punch if I can't do it the way I was taught? I could take up a new style, I'm sure there are other schools in the area, but that somehow just didn't feel right. Maybe I could-

"Whatcha doin." A childish voice came from in front of me. I could make out some small feet in black slippers from where I was staring at the ground.

"I'm training." I grumbled irritably. My train of thought was just shattered.

"Tha's not trainin. Ya're just sittin around. Wheres all the kickin an punchin."

I looked up to see the face of this nuisance. The kid in front of me was barely out of toddler-hood. He had the reddest hair I'd ever seen pulled into a pigtail and was wearing a ratty old whitish gi. "It's called meditating. I'm honing my mind and body."

"Hmm." The child leaned back in a haughty manner. "Ain't look like no meditain' I never seen. Yer doin' it all wrong."

I got to my feet, preparing to leave. Clearly the nuisance wasn't going anywhere, so I will. "No I'm not. And anyway, meditating isn't something you can do wrong anyway."

The kid smirked. That was irritating. "Tha's what someone doin it wrong would say."

My foot froze where where it was. "And how would you know anything about meditating." Something about this kid was just irritating. Like, the most irritating thing I had ever seen kind of irritating.

His smirk stretched into a full blown grin. "I'm da best is how. Your meditatin sucks."

I could feel my face glow red. "I don't suck! And why am I still listening to you! You're a brat!"

His eyes narrowed and scrutinized me patronizingly. "An you aren'? You don look so tuff."

'I can't hit a kid that's barely out of his diapers.' I repeated in my head with an eyebrow twitch. 'No matter how much he reminds me of Jeremy Burnbonz.'

"I bet ah could beat ya with my hand behind my back."

That's it! I settled into a tense stance. I'll just throw a few punches towards him to scare him then send him on his way.

The little kid just stood there with a cocky smirk on his face. I made sure to hold back and not actually hit him as my punch slowly made its way toward him. But then suddenly it wasn't.

"Wha was that. The turtle speed style martial arts slow attack."

I looked towards the sound of the voice behind me to find the kid standing there acting like nothing happened. I attacked again, this time with a frustration fueled kick, and promptly found myself doing the splits when my foot landed on the uneven ground that wasn't there a second ago. 'OOOOOOOOOWWWWW'

"Woops. Sorry man. That looked like it hurt."

I fought the pain to hobble up to my feet. "I'll show you hurt you brat!"

The little brat just scuffed his toe on the ground and replied arrogantly. "Yeah right. Like a weakling like you could ever touch me."

That it! I don't care if the brat is a freaking baby. He's getting a black eye.

"Whoa there. Stop, stop." A new voice cut in. A man dressed similarly to the kid popped up out of nowhere. "That's enough fighting you two. Recca, what have I told you about fighting strangers."

"Make sure ya win." The cocky little bastard replied.

Both of our eyes twitched. Must be tough being a parent to that little jerk. "Not that! About good sportsmanship and stuff."

"Oh!" The kid had a look of realization. "Ya mean tha thing about makin sure they won' be huntin ya down after ya win for a rematch fo' the rest of ya life."

"Close enough." Ranma sighed, then looked at me and rubbed the back of his neck and the top of the boys head. "Yo! The names Ranma Saotome and this is my son Recca. Sorry about this."

Still flabbergasted by how odd the two guys were, I responded automatically. "Nice to meet you, I'm Marco. Wait, that's not the point! He's just a kid. How can he even throw a punch let alone possibly fight me!"

"Oh, I taught him how to handle opponents larger than him." The man explained casually.

'That doesn't explain anything!' I inwardly screamed. There had to be limits on how skilled a beginner martial artist could be! There was no way the brat had won our exchange fairly. And I was going to prove it. "I challenge you to a match!" Marco exclaimed while pointing at Recca.

Recca grinned with an aggravating smile. "You betcha. Earlier wasn nough ta warm me up. Gotta loosen the muscles 'fore training with pa, ya know."

Gosh he was annoying. But he still accepted, so I took a stance and charged.

And promptly hit air.

The brat was agile. And he knew it too. He used his small size to duck around me like a jackrabbit popping out of a hole. At one point the kid even slid between my legs. All the while he had that same effortless smirk ready to be punched off his stupid face.

This brat, as much as I hate to admit it, was good. There was only one way he was going to win. An all or nothing gamble. At the right time I had to throw everything into a single moment.

That moment came quicker than I expected.

"Ranmaaa! Because of you I've seen hell!" A strange cry could be heard in from somewhere nearby, but I was too focused on my match to care. The kid had an opening. I lunged.

Recca was getting into this training exercise. Like his father always said, taunting was the best way to get your opponents off their guard. It was a work in progress, but he was getting better at enraging random upstart martial artists. This Marco or whatever guy was already rushing into stupid mistakes and constantly leaving himself open.

It was a piece of cake to slip in between the gaps in his defense and redirect the brunt of his energy. Disturbing your opponents rhythm and pulling them into your own was Saotome School of Indiscriminate Grappling 101.

By this point, he could already mindlessly follow his opponents around in the spar. Honestly, he was more concerned with what was going to be for dinner than this fight. But then some strange call caught his attention. Or... not so strange.

There was this one Master class fighter that always somehow managed to find them. Well, find him. For whatever reason his dad always disappeared about now, leaving him to deal with the crazy guy.

Recca glanced around the small plateau they were on, and sure enough his father had disappeared using that strange technique of his. He still wouldn't teach it to him. No matter how much he asked.

Recca was startled out of his thoughts by his own body moving into the standard dodge and kick away of the Saotome Style. The idiot had recklessly charged him while he was distracted. Luckily he had been trained to act on instinct.

Recca quickly turned around to face his opponent in a once again. Except... his opponent wasn't there anymore.

Recca stared at where Marco tripped over the cliff. That hadn't been his fault, right?

He started sweating nervously. Training accidents weren't uncommon, or so he heard. But up to this point he had never made such a big blunder.

Running over and staring over the overhang, he saw only open air and the ground far below.

Where did Marco go?

There isn't any good way to go about waking up on the forest floor with a splitting headache. So Marco went with jerking awake. It turns out, while there isn't any good way to wake with a headache, there are certainly bad ones. His quick movement ended with him leaning forward holding his head as pain bit into his brain. Slowly, the ache died off enough he could finally look around for whatever bus had hit him.

There was no bus. Instead there was a campsite. What first caught his attention, leaning next to him against a downed tree, was an unnaturally huge backpack. Next were two sleeping bags laid out, one of which he was currently inside.

Then, in front of him, there was a hulking wall of muscle with arms reaching out towards him. Things clicked. There was only one explanation for this. He had been kidnapped.

"HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME! I'VE BEEN KIDNAPPED!" So he did the obvious thing and ran.

"No no, wait! This is all a misunderstanding!" And the giant man chased after him.

Flashback

"Don't die!" From around a corner barreled an extremely buff man dressed in a yellow shirt and dark sweat pants along with a yellow tiger headband. On his back he carried a huge backpack stuffed to the brim and topped with a bright red umbrella.

In his hands was Marco. Marco was knocked unconscious

It was one of his greatest failings to date. Injuring a civilian, even one that was falling out of the sky and crashing into him, was a black mark on his pride. Normally he was better than that, but he had been distracted by finally picking up that bastard Saotome's trail.

The kid had crashed into him while he was moving at high speeds. This would've been bad for even a regular person, but with how conditioned his body was it must've been like crashing into a brick wall. While he had managed to mitigate the damage last second, the shock had knocked the kid out.

"Gotta get this kid to a hospital." The man ran as fast as possible in his panic. It was a stupid blunder of his to accidentally crash into a civilian, even if they were falling out of the sky these days, so it was his responsibility to see the kid treated. "Hold on, I think it was this way!" The man charged around a street corner with Marco in tow and was gone from the world. Or at least gone from Echo creek.

It was hours later before Marco woke up.

*smack* *smack* *smack*

"uuuughughu-*pfft*" Marco spat leaves and lolled into consciousness. His head was killing him, and whatever was waking him up was not doing him any favors. The world had just about come into focus when a stray branch somehow managed to slap him across the face. He was out like a light.

Hours later Marco's eyes fluttered open to the dawning sky. Or rather that's what should be happening. Instead he was looking up into the feral sharp toothed smile of a Sasquatch. Marco fainted.

Even later

Marco's head lifted and he rubbed at his migraine absentmindedly.

"Oh thank god! You're awake!" The man grabbed onto his shoulders in relief, however he misjudged his strength and shook Marco harder than he meant to. The violent shaking motion rattled Marco. His headache worsened and he passed out.

The large man groaned in aggravation and looked around worriedly. He couldn't see the city anymore, and there were no hikers he could ask for directions. Deciding to cut his losses, he gently set Marco back down and went about setting up camp. Hopefully bed rest was all the kid needed, because that was all he could give apparently.

Flashback end

Twenty minutes, two escape attempts and a lengthy explanation later Marco was sat at the camp staring across at the large man named Ryoga.

Apparently, after that brat had tripped him up he had crashed into this guy. After that, the man ran around carrying him trying to get him to a hospital.

That was... well... he claimed to have a terrible sense of direction? And now here they were. Sitting together. In the middle of nowhere. What?

"I tried my best to get you help. But no matter where I turned the hospital just kept getting further and further away. Before I knew it, the whole town had disappeared. I thought you might've woken up a few times, but you've been passed out for the whole day. In the end I did my best to treat your head injury and made camp here." The man gestured to their surroundings, a small clearing among shrubby trees he had set up a small tent, a campfire, and a couple bedrolls. He tried to give Marco a reassuring smile, but all that came up was a awkward constipated face.

Marco held his head in his hands and nearly screamed. "How did this even happen!?" The odds involved in falling precisely on top of this guy, getting knocked unconscious (repeatedly) and ending up stuck with him lost in the woods was the unluckiest thing EVER.

"It was no doubt that vile Saotome's fault. He and his son have caused me and countless others no end of trouble. His mere presence incurs misfortune. I was in the middle of tracking him when I ran into you." Ryoga explained matter-of-factly like his reasoning had any basis in reality. Sure, he did meet the Saotome's, but his tripping and falling was a total accident. Wasn't it?

Marco raised his head, stood up, and started walking. Nope. He was not dealing with this. He was leaving and going home. That thought lasted until he crested a nearby hill to see his surroundings. Forest, grassland and desert as far as the eye could see.

Feeling hopelessness at his situation Marco sank to his knees and pounded the ground. 'Damn you Recca for putting me in this situation!'

With nothing better to do he slunk back to Ryoga's camp, huddled his knees by the fire, and fell on his side. "Everything is fine. Everything is okay. Everything is fine-"

His mutterings went on well into the night before falling asleep. In the morning everything would be fine. He was not stranded in the wilderness. He was not alone with a bodybuilding rando in the wilderness. He was not.

When he woke up it was to the face of the bodybuilding rando in the middle of the wilderness. Damnit.

Authors Note: Just out of toddler-hood and already badasses. Good job martial artists I guess. It'll still be a while before Canon starts. For anyone who might want to see Star in this story now, here's a quick look at her.

Omake: A Stars Life

Once upon a time, in a magical kingdom, a princess was born to inherit the throne. On her twelfth birthday, she inherited a magical wand that could make her wishes come true. She used the wands power to rule her kingdom justly and nobly. She is, to this day, a much respected member of the magic high council and at the forefront of all the worlds leaders.

No no no, that person isn't me. It's my mother.

You see that totally stylish punk goth over there? That's me.

"But mooom, I don't want to go the summer ball. Me and Ponyhead already made plans to visit Bounce Lounge."

I. swear. that didn't sound so whiny in my head.

"No means no, Star. Your father and I have been planning this since spring and all the other kingdoms are bringing their children. Your going."

AND once again miss I-know-whats-best-for-you-Star is trying to ruin my life. I should submit a formal complaint. I'm sure that'll maker her happy.

"Ugh. Your always ruining my life!"

Aaaand I ran to safety before she could ground me too. Whatever. I'll just sneak out later and meet Ponyhead at the party.

With how stiff she is it makes me wonder if she was always this controlling...

When Star was 3

"Haha! Just you wait Star! The family gathering is the best event of the year." River flexed his biceps, bouncing the tiny star up into the air and then catching her.

"*giggle* Again! Again!" Star reached up towards the sky, wanting nothing more than to fly.

River complied and placed her on his arm. "The strongest of the strong, the best of the best. The Johansen clan are some of the premier warriors in all of Mewni. Why, I remember when I was your age. That was when I first-"

"River!" The shrill voice of Moon Butterfly cut off his ramblings and caused him to shoot Star far higher than he intended. But, she didn't get far.

A blue glow enveloped her, freezing her in place before slowly lowering her into the arms of Moon who had a hard expression directed at River "I thought we agreed this wasn't an appropriate event for a young princess."

River began sweating, but had a face of consternation. "But. But Honeybuns-"

"No buts. I've already called a babysitter. Mrs. Rulesworth will be along shortly." Moon turned and began making her way into the castle. "Wait by the carriage. I'll take Star to her room."

River reached an arm out. But then he slowly lowered it. He never could deny his wife anything. Not even this. "I'm, sorry Star." He muttered. And maybe she was right. Star was a Butterfly, not a Johansen. Maybe she wouldn't be be like him and the rest of his family.

Out of Rivers sight Star sat in the arms of Moon. Her face was flush with excitement and her arms still reached towards the sky. Even when the dawn sky was replaced with cold stone, in her young mind she was flying.

Back in the present.

"Yeah. I guess she was!"