Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 and Full Moon o Sagashite are not mine.

Author's Foreword: I can't believe I updated. It really is largely because of all the C&C you guys have been kind enough to send me. Your thoughts and speculation fuel my creativity so keep them coming!

Fumbling for the Full Moon

By ToastedPine

Chapter 3

Furinkan gym lacked the usual bustle of students playing sports. Its well polished floors notably free of scuff marks and vibration from dribbling balls because, in one corner, the basketball team was deciding their future.

"C'mon, we all know he's our only shot at winning," one of the guys dressed in blue jerseys huddled in the circle said.

"Yeah, but how are we supposed to get him to play for us? We don't have enough to pay Nabiki."

"Our pride is on the line, I say we do whatever it takes!" The others snarled at him.

"You're just saying that because YOU don't have a GIRLFRIEND to make you a delicious boxed-lunch."

"Feh, details. Chisato seemed more that happy to cook for Ranma when you asked her last time."

"I say we give him a swirlie," a big, unibrowed guy said, "who's with me?"

"I'm only being practical here, honest!" He made warding gestures. "We have two choices, either swallow a bit of pride or lose to those damned pretty-boys of Ohtori. I, for one, don't want those prissy princes to wipe the floor with us again. If I had a girlfriend, I'd rather she be swooning over some handsome bastard who isn't interested and won't go any further than eating my food."

"Can't we just buy him some buns?" a teammate asked.

The guy who brought up the suggestion of bribing Ranma shook his head.

"He only plays for bento. We could probably go for meals from vending machines, but none of us have that kind of money to spare. Our moms are also out, they can smell lies like bloodhounds, and if any of them find out we're asking for an extra portion to bribe Ranma, we can forget about winning the game."

Disgruntled sounds of agreement grudgingly passed. "I give, but since you're the only one out of all of us who isn't going to suffer, you'll have to get all of us drinks after practice." The team captain said.

"Urk, isn't the fact that I'm the only loser here who's single enough punishment?"

"Nice try, shut up before I make you wash our jockstraps."

The math teacher sweated profusely, whether it from the heat generated by the bonfire behind him or his frazzled nerves, no one could tell for sure.

Ranma sat, eyes pointed directly at the white markings on the board, his desk producing charred splinters at the edges from the force of his battle aura. The paint on the cement floor was long gone, flaked off and disintegrated by his turbulent ki. Even as he lit the world around him, he could feel it getting... darker. He clenched his fist tightly, trying to ward away weariness coming over him.

"Sensei!" Ranma hand shot up, making the air waiver.

"Yes Mister Saotome!"

"Could you repeat that last part, sir?"

"M-my apologies for going too quickly." The middle aged teacher quickly ran his hand back across his well greased hair, and then began explaining logarithmic functions again.

Ranma held on for as long as he could, but the darkness was winning. 'Damn,' he thought, feeling his head drop towards the comfort of his desk, chin first, 'no good.'

Thud.

"Sensei... I think he fell asleep." Hiroshi waved a hand in front of Ranma's face, his eyes were still bloodshot and open but the lights were no longer on. "Should I wake him?"

"T-that won't be necessary Mr. Hiroshi." The math teacher continued his lecture. Quietly.

"I think it's about time that Ranma took school seriously." Akane said as she walked back to the Tendo Dojo with her friend. "It's kind of nice really."

Sayuri hopped out in front then walked backwads, ponytail swaying. "But don't you find it weird Akane? This is Ranma we're talking about, not even the end of the world should be able to convince him to study."

"I do find it weird but--"

"And what about Hinako? He's practically been her shadow these past few days. You notice that he comes out of nowhere drag away the students she tries to punish before she can even bring out her coin?"

Akane frowned but decided on believing the explanation he had given her. "Ranma does care about people getting drained."

Sayuri softened. "That's true, he does have a heart-- when he gets over his ego anyway." She giggled, and returned to walking by Akane's side.

"Yeah, sometimes, I wish..." Akane stared off into the distance beyond the houses and power lines, before blinking herself back into reality. "Oh that reminds me, where's Yuka?"

Sayuri shrugged. "On assignment for Nabiki. She said she needed some extra money."

"Oh…" Akane lowered her head and squeezed the handle of her bookbag.

He found it funny how watching a chess match became even more mind numbingly lame when the participants tried to spice it up. Ranma sat in the "bleachers," which were more a bunch of planks set up in the chemistry lab in the hopes of making the chess tournament feel more like a popular sporting event. Judging from the pocket protectors and high-waist pants sitting around, he was probably the only spectator who wasn't also a contestant.

"Hikaru!" A pawn masterfully smashed through the bishop and knight defense.

"Akira!" The opponent boldly slammed his rook forward.

Both contestants were breathing heavily, sweat rolling down their foreheads. Ranma was again failing to see how either anyone considered what was going on in front of him role playing. He thought he would at least get something close to theater, and while he found the boring too, it didn't have anything on watching two people who looked like they wanted to punch each others lights out, scream in weak, high pitched voices instead.

"Oh my god!" The announcer stood up and planted one foot on his table, which would've looked slightly cool if he hadn't fallen over as a result.

The announcer got back up quickly. "Touya Akira is tying on a blindfold! He's going to play this match blind, lad-err… gentlemen and gentlemen! In all my years of professional chess, never have I witnessed anything quite like this! And… what's this? Shindou Hikaru just finished putting the 'Hand of God' formation into play! Amazing, no one even saw it coming-- especially his opponent!"

Okay, he wasn't bored anymore or even remotely sleepy, Ranma sat there and marveled at the stupidity smart people can achieve when trying to have fun; fat lot of good this training session of staying awake did him. He was about to leave when he noticed the room fall completely silent.

"Ranma, there you are good buddy." Some guy in a blue jersey walked towards him, and the room suddenly fell silent until the hush chatter started.

"A basketball player has come amongst us…."

"Maybe we're not such big losers afterall--"

"Fool, it's the end of the world I tell you!"

"Did you see the latest equations for celestial gravitometry released this month? Oh they're sooooo sexy…."

"…"

"We ARE a lost cause."

Ranma grimaced. "C'mon uh…"

"Jiro Sakuragi," the basketball player supplied.

"Sure, Jiro, let's talk outside."

The announcer shrugged after Ranma and the basketball player were out of sight. "Let's get ready to caaaaaaaaaaasssssttllleeeeee!"

Outside, Jiro leaned against the patch of wall across from Ranma. "Why the chess club? I had a hell of a time finding you."

"Training," Ranma explained. "Whad'ya want?"

Jiro looked at him skeptically before he rubbed his hands together. "Straight to the point, I like that about you Saotome. Well, you see… there's this other school, Ohtori, they're incredibly good." Seeing that Ranma began picking his ears in disinterest, Jiro bowed low to get his attention. "Please play for the honor of Furinkan High."

"You need my help to beat 'em." Ranma internally sighed as he was again turned into a sports thug for hire. He couldn't turn the basketball player down outright since it was for the honor of the school, especially now that he had resolved to become a better student.

"I'll do it, but I want bento." He might as well get some food out of the deal. From what he could tell, all of them had gone to their girlfriends based on the cute, and sometimes, embarrassing messages left on the underside of the box lids. He secretly admitted that he kind of liked food cooked by girls that didn't taste like they were serving him his marriage --or in Akane's case-- death certificate on a platter.

"Sure thing Ranma. The game's a week from now an hour after school. We meet at the gym. I… don't suppose you'd be interested in practicing with us beforehand too."

"I'll think about it."

"I'm home!" Akane took off her shoes at the entrance then stepped inside.

"Welcome back." Kasumi greeted. "Before I forget, Nabiki wanted to talk to you, she's in her room."

"Okay." Akane kept focused on the floor as she quickly climbed up the stairs and knocked on her sister's door.

"It's open," Nabiki answered.

Akane opened the door just as Nabiki folded her cell phone. She had always wanted one like the rest of her friends but she couldn't afford it on her meager allowance.

"All right sis, nothing new to report for the last three days. He stayed in the classroom after school with Hinako for an hour or two after school. I'm taking bets to see how long he can keep this up without breaking."

"Actually," Akane wondered if Nabiki knew, "those extra lectures might be making a difference."

Now she had Nabiki's full attention. "How so?"

"He tried really hard to stay up in class today." Akane sweatdropped.

"They're still cleaning the scorch marks his battle aura left on the floor."

"My, that is interesting isn't it? I better call the girls and see if they can change the odds. Thanks, I'll take it off your tab."

Seeing Akane not leave immediately, she asked, "Anything else."

Akane nervousely balled her fists. "I… want to stop checking on Ranma." She said before going back downstairs.

Finally alone, the middle Tendo steepled her fingers while leaning back of her chair. "What are you up to Ranma?" She smirked. "Whatever it is, I intend to find out."

Ranma met an adult Hinako at the fountain where they had first struck their deal. She was wearing her normal yellow dress and carried a paper bag covering something cylindrical. "I'm ready to meet Mitsuki-chan."

"Mitsuki-chan?" Ranma raised eyebrow before he frowned. "I thought I told you to stop using your adult form."

Hinako tried to keep aloof, "I forgot." The pout at the end was barely noticeable but Ranma caught it.

"Hah! You never forget ANYTHING." Ranma was reminded of her near encyclopedic knowledge of all his test errors during their tutoring sessions. "It's your life on the line, and I'm definitely going to make sure you stick around to annoy me for as long as possible whether you want to or not."

Hinako smiled at the implications of Ranma's statement, and tried another route. "I can't stop using this form you know."

"Why not? You don't seem ta have problems being a kid."

"What if I need to reach something really high up?"

"I'll get it for you."

"How about when you're not around?"

"Learn to jump high."

Hinako glared at Ranma which made him deflate. "Fine, you can use your adult form, but only when you really have to."

"Like when I need to reach high objects and punish delinquents."

"Yeah, like when I need to reach high objects and punish delinquents…."

Hinako's warm smile caused a mental gear in Ranma's head to slip. "Thank you. Shall we go?" She released the excess ki.

Ranma paused, feeling like he'd been suckered, but one look at the small Hinako's big round eyes made him lose the will to continue. He scooped young Hinako up into his arms and roof hopped towards the Kuoyama residence.

When they reached the Kouyama yard, Ranma put Hinako down gently. "That's her room right there." He pointed at the house separated from the main structure much like the Tendo Dojo was.

Young Hinako paused, checking the contents of her paper bag. It was an open glass bowl filled with fighting fish. She smiled happily as she looked at Ranma's back.

He hadn't spilled a drop.

Shinigami, or death gods, didn't live a world of darkness and evil. On the contrary, shinigami central was pretty well lit and filled with death gods and other mystical beings flying around busily doing their assigned tasks. Death was a full time occupation, and the administration changed with the times, filing names of people destined for the other world in super efficient "Black Plague" computer networks hosted on seven, humongous, monolithic towers hanging upside-down from a floating island in the sky, the center most tower had the metallic Microsoft logo, which some prankster had somehow permanently fused to the structure.

One thing that hadn't changed though was how missions were handed out in the form of folders. Each folder contained all the relevant info needed for the soul collecting task, and had its corresponding color and class ranging from, Red, Traffic class assignments which were the easiest, to White, Expressways which were the hardest.

It was on the subject of folder colors, names, and classes that a secretary named Mayu was contemplating while she mechanically handed out files to field agents. Why did the class names relate to roads and speeds? What did the colors of light have to do with them? She finished her first stack and was about to line up the next when she noticed what was on top...

Bundled together with a note were two BLACK folders.

There wasn't supposed to be a black folder. The top secret secretary's manual did not have a black color or corresponding class. Could this be a new class? If so, was it the easiest or hardest class? If it was the hardest class ever, what kind of people could warrant a whole new class, and who would be tough enough to complete it?

Mayu's shaking hands could barely keep the folder open,

"Class: Nitro Expressway

Subject: Happosai"

Mayu's her sad, expressive eyes took on the size of dinner plates, as she read further into the biographical data. The amount of depravity was…"

"Hiiiiiiiiii," a light happy sounding voice startled Mayu, "Meroko Yui here with her partner Izuuuumi for their luvu luvu mission!"

Mayu saw a teenage girl, around 16, with long pink hair that reached the knees that almost covered the tiny white wings, standard to all shinigami, on her back. Her pink eyes matched her hair quite nicely. The costume she had on was… unique. Aside from the oversized top hat, she also had a red choker, short skirt, and platform boots. Her ample bosom was encased in, what Mayu could only describe as, a short bustier. The whole ensemble was tied together by white ruffle highlights over the costume's lines, and black, ruffle lined gloves.

Her companion, around the same age, was dressed more conservatively; black vest over off-yellow long sleeved shirt, and black pants. His lightly effemininate feature's made him look like one of those guys in a shounen-ai magazines --something Mayu had no idea about. Honest. His sandy hair and free flowing bangs were hidden partially beneath black hat with short drooping dog ears.

She was startled out of her admiration by the guy's piercing gaze. "H-here are your assignments." She handed Happosai's folder to Meroko and the other to Izumi. "The note posted on these say that you two will have to carry out separate missions."

"That certainly is strange," Izumi's voice was faintly nasal but in a very dignified way, "What do you think Me-chan?"

"I don't really care as long as I'm with my Izumi-kuuun!" She sang out.

"Wait Izumi, don't leave me!" The pink-haired shinigami chased after her partner.

Mayu sank back into her seat. She hadn't gotten to know who Izumi's assignment was, but if Happosai was any indication, the other assignment was sure to be equally terrible. The secretary looked sympathetically at their retreating backs. Damn those were unlucky Shinigami.

Author's Rambling:

No preview this time since there isn't a need or maybe because I'm lazy, whichever floats your boat.

I just discovered that Fukufics is a great place to be even for people who don't have any particular liking of the Ranma-as-a-senshi concept. Thanks to Trimatter (I think I spelled his name right) for giving me a kick-start.