Ki Cutters: 15
The Players
"Good morning dear! Time to get up! You've got a big day ahead of you!" It was the cheerful voice of a mother awakening her daughter. She expected complaints and pleading for more time. Teenagers are like that. They push to stay up as late as they can then complain the next morning when their bodies inform them that you can't push that way.
The figure in the bed groaned. "I don't feel so good."
It was the concerned face of a mother that ducked back around the doorway. She felt her daughter's forehead then placed a call to the doctor. It was an action being duplicated across Nerima ward and much of Tokyo.
"Come on, Ranma! I'll race you!" shouted Akane from the top of the fence. Somehow doing this after being earthbound for so long made her feel better. She paused as Ranma waved at her, but uncharacteristically stayed on the ground. She wondered at his lethargy. It was the last day of school before the holidays. Tonight was the performance of Nutcracker. Oh, he couldn't still be mad about the fight they had last night, could he? She hopped down. "Are you all right?"
"Don't get too close, Akane," he said. It came out more like, "Do' geh doo clothe, Akhane." She reached out and felt his forehead.
"You're sick!" she accused.
"Yuh," he agreed. "Ah'll be okay." He pulled one of those anonymous white masks out of a pocket and tied it on.
"And tonight's the performance! Oh, Ranma!" He winced at her dismay.
"Oh, man!" Ukyo joined them, alone. "He's sick?"
Ranma nodded. "Where's Ryoga?"
"I made him go back to bed," Ukyo said. "He's sick, too. Why are you out like this?"
Akane colored. "We had a fight last night and I wasn't talking to him this morning. I didn't notice anything was wrong till he wouldn't get up on the fence."
"Akane," Ukyo sounded disgusted, "you had better grow up, girl! You…"
"Why d'ya think it's her fault?" mumbled Ranma through his gauze mask. "I start a lot of our fights."
"Because I know you both so well, Ranchan. When I asked, Akane answered first and looked guilty." Ukyo ticked this bit of information off on a finger. "Then you tried to take the blame, but you didn't actually say you started this one." Another finger ticked up. "And finally, you didn't look guilty. You looked happy. The only reason you'd look happy was if Akane owed you one." Ukyo smirked. "You still have a lousy poker face, and Akane started, or at least was to blame for, the argument. So there!"
"Gee, thanks, Ukyo," Akane said slowly. "I don't want to be beholden to Ranma that much!" She glanced at Ranma with renewed ire.
"That's all right, Akane. You can owe me!" Ukyo offered smugly.
"Ucchan!" Ranma whined.
"Only fair, Ranchan," Ukyo said with a toss of her head. "You guys keep having fun without me. I wouldn't have minded beating up on those Crimson Wave guys, but no-o-o. I'm slaving over a hot grill…"
"Trust me, Ukyo, you wouldn't have liked it," Akane said in a low voice. "Akanami scared the hell out of me. And it's not reassuring to know that somewhere out there is a fanatic who's as good a martial artist as we are and has reason to want revenge."
"I thought it was that Copycat Ken guy?" queried Ukyo, brows wrinkling. "I mean he was good and something of a pervert, but he didn't come across as scary, the way you guys talked about him before."
"Well he was scary this time!" Akane shivered. "I don't know what happened to him, but he's a real monster now." She caught Ukyo's eye. "You didn't see him or talk to him, Ukyo. I don't think he even recognized me… at least not at first."
"Ah didn' figure ih ou' till he chan'ed," Ranma mumbled.
"What?"
"He didn't figure it out till he changed," Akane interpreted. She got a worried look on her face. "If Ranma and Ryoga are both sick, I wonder who else is?"
"I hope they don't have to cancel the performance," Ukyo said in a worried voice.
They looked around their class. Almost half the students were missing including Shampoo. Of those who were there, half looked like they'd be missing tomorrow, if it weren't the holidays. Only Jiro seemed unconcerned and disgustingly healthy. Gosunkugi, their Drosselmeier, had his head bandaged like a mummy.
"Are you sick, too?" Akane asked him with concern.
"N-no." They watched his Adam's apple move up and down convulsively. "But I… I'm not going to get sick, if I can help it!" 'Akane's talking to me,' he thought. 'She cares.'
"Good morning, Akane!" sang out Nuku-Nuku. Of course she wouldn't be sick. "Where is everybody?"
"Sick. How's your brother?"
"He's alright. Mama-san always makes sure he has all his shots." She bounced back to her seat.
Shampoo lurched in, then, a mask on her face.
"You're sick?" Akane and Ukyo demanded in unison.
"No!" came her muffled voice. "Well… Shampoo was, but Great-grandmother fix with Amazon remedy."
They glanced at Ranma who sat miserable in his seat. "Ith id any good?" he asked.
"Work, but if ballet not tonight, would rather be sick! Blargh!" Shampoo replied graphically. Ranma looked green.
Miss Hinako came into the homeroom looking a bit tired. Akane was fairly sure she wasn't sick, however. She and Soun had gone out on a date the night before, to celebrate the outcome of the mall incident and test some advice she had gotten from Cologne.
While her father had been at his place at breakfast this morning, Kasumi had whispered to her that "his bed hadn't been slept in… Oh, my!" Akane reddened at this additional evidence and debated reading her homeroom teacher the riot act. She was barely restrained by the reasonable voice in the back of her head that said it wasn't any of her business. Barely...
"G'morning, class," the teacher said. "What a (yawn) wonderful day. Hey! Where is everybody?"
"Sick, I think," Akane said grimly wishing for her mallet. "Ranma's got it, too. He's just too macho to admit he should have stayed in bed." Ranma didn't argue with her. His Mallet-Sense was tingling.
"Ooh, ick!" Miss Hinako simply scanned to see who was there. "That's terrible. I'll tell you what. Let me go see…"
A red-haired form skidded through the door.
"Oh, drat! I'm late!" Kodachi exclaimed. She glanced around. "Where is everybody?" She blinked at Hinako and then at the class, then at her watch. "I suppose I should get the buckets?"
"Never mind, Kodachi dear," Hinako said. "Just take your seat. I must find out if we will be closing the school today. I'm not sure what the regulations are for absentee levels this high." She marched to the door. "I'll be right back…"
As she left, Akane and Ukyo turned their gazes on Kodachi.
"All right, give! You're never late! Where were you?" Ukyo demanded.
"In bed."
"Kodachi!" Akane exclaimed. Ranma reddened and groaned and inched away.
"Well, I was."
"Kodachi!"
Kodachi looked at them archly. "I never said Taro was there, did I?"
"Well, no," Ukyo admitted. Ranma looked up blearily. Akane began to settle.
"He was though. It was… glorious!" Kodachi giggled cattily as both girls blushed and groaned. Ranma turned beet red and beat his head on his desk in a weary fashion. "Oh, Ranma!" Kodachi giggled. "If it makes you jealous, I can arrange for you to take my place some evening. It would be interesting to see if Taro could tell the difference…"
"UrRRRP!" Ranma said desperately. Between Mallet-Sense and imagination, nausea surged. He bolted for the hall. Faintly, "Blargh!" echoed back to the girls.
"…or not. I suppose that would be naughty, wouldn't it? Hee hee-hee-heee..."
"Kodachi!" Ukyo and Akane yelled. They smoldered as Kodachi continued to giggle. Shampoo rolled her eyes wearily.
"That wasn't very nice," Akane complained. "Ranma's sick!"
"He did react rather violently," Kodachi observed.
"No, he's sick," Akane reiterated. "So are a lot of other people."
"Oh, my!" Kodachi sounded briefly like Kasumi. "I guess that was really naughty then." She gazed with mild concern at the door.
"The big worry is the ballet tonight," Akane said. "What if they cancel it?"
"That would be unfortunate," Kodachi said, troubled.
They discussed a variety of issues and checked each other's homework. Ranma finally stumbled back in, minus mask. She hadn't made it to the bathroom in time and her top was damp and cold from having to clean himself/herself up. After sitting and doing some deep breathing exercises, she slid on top of her desk and went into an inverted lotus position. The girls paused and looked at her uncertainly.
Hinako came back. "What's Ranma doing?"
"You got us, Miss Hinako," Ukyo told her. "He just came back from barfing in the bathroom, I think."
Hinako made a face. "School's still on. The senior class seems to be the worst affected."
"What about the ballet tonight?" Shampoo asked.
"I don't know, yet," she answered. "It depends on whether you have enough of a cast to perform, doesn't it?"
"That's right." The girls frowned.
"Let's call Marinara-sensei."
"Let's…"
They looked at Ranma in her inverted lotus position on the desk. Jiro sidled forward and slapped the girl on the back od her head, neatly spinning her end for end. "Hey, Ranma! As sick as you are, I guess I'll be the Nutcracker Prince after all."
"Yeah, yeah," Ranma said without much enthusiasm.
"And with Kaisha sick, that means I'll dance with Shampoo and Akane!"
"Yeah, yea—!" Ranma did a double take. "What?" he snarled, "No way!"
"Too bad, Ranma, but you're not healthy. I'll take over," Jiro grinned.
"Over my dead body!" Ranma growled. "Nobody's dancin' with Akane but me!"
"But you're sick, Ranma," Akane implored him. "Why do you have to be so jealous?"
"He getting as bad as Mousse," Shampoo commented.
"If Akane's dancin', I'm dancin'!" the redhead said defiantly.
"You're such a hard case, Ranma," Jiro complained. "Why can't I have my fifteen seconds of fame?"
"They're not yours till they're not mine," Ranma retorted. "And I'm feelin' much better, thank you." Jiro muttered and returned to his seat.
"Since school is on, let's proceed with class," suggested Hinako. She began calling role.
oOo
Ranma switched genders between classes and was properly male when he went to gym. The coach looked at his depleted class, some of whom were obviously suffering early stages of the virus. He flipped through the pages of the manual and scratched his head. "Gentlemen," he said, "we don't have enough for pick-up teams. Any suggestions?"
"We have one," came a new voice. The girls' coach had stuck her head in. "Why not combine the classes and have a volleyball game, girls vs. guys?"
There was a roar of approval from the men's side. Ranma didn't join in. He was considering that the men had two top martial artists, Jiro and himself, against Akane, Shampoo, Kodachi and Ukyo. He hated losing.
Jiro also didn't join in. He was sweating. It was one thing to deal with his tendencies during Nutcracker practice. It was very formulated and structured. The end result was that, even if he was in close proximity to pretty girls, they didn't bounce or thrash around - which was what excited him and also produced the feminine battle aura he was so addicted to. Besides, he could always slip off and ambush them later if he really was losing control or pester a bathhouse. Here he was going to be in arms reach of pretty, active, competitive femininity with minimal covering and four of them of martial artist caliber. Was he strong enough to resist temptation? Shampoo bounced and did some stretches, obviously showing off an unrestrained chest. Sweat beaded profusely.
The first game quickly went the way Ranma suspected it would, the men losing 21-16. The second game showed Ranma's own tenacity and the men's mortification at their situation. At 17-17, Shampoo went up for a spike. Jiro grinning maniacally at the challenge went up to block. Shampoo snarled competitively starting a fast overhand, with her right and then sweeping her left arm about in the true spike.
"Hi-yah!"
Jiro, the tempo of the move interrupted, glanced between his hands. (BAM!) He was caught smack in the face by the ball.
(POW!) Jiro wasn't the only one sprawled on the floor. Shampoo was flat on her back, the mark of the volleyball clearly visible on her face. There was a sharp in drawing of breath. Ranma groaned, remembering a broken bonbori. Shampoo groaned and sat up. She blinked obviously unfocused while Ranma knelt to check Jiro who was largely unresponsive.
"Good thing Great Grandmother not allow kisses during school," Shampoo wobbled.
Ranma snorted. "Why? Looks like you won this one."
Shampoo gingerly shook her head. "Ball land on girl's side." Everyone blinked and took note that what she said was true. It had landed in bounds on the girl's side; though how Shampoo had kept track of this with nearly being knocked unconscious was a mystery.
"Wake up, Jiro," Ranma encouraged their fallen point winner.
Jiro muttered unintelligibly.
"Try this, Ranma," offered one of the guys by the sidelines, tossing him a sport bottle of water. Almost predictably, the top came loose in mid-toss and Ranma's grab at the bottle only sloshed more water over his, now her form.
"Kuso!" exclaimed a redhead in a wet T-shirt. Water dripped from her to splatter of Jiro's face.
"Sweeto!" (GLOMP!)
"GAAAAAH!" (BAM!) Jiro was dislodged and bounced off the floor with new lumps. His trajectory sent him towards Shampoo.
"Sweeto!" (GLOMP!)
"EEEEEE!" (WHAM!) Jiro was sent rocketing on his way with a solid strike. Ukyo was in his path but leaped out of the way. Jiro plowed into Akane who was distracted, watching Ranma shudder.
Sweeto! (GLOMP!)
"JIRO, YOU PERVERT!" (KAPOW!)
Jiro cracked the concrete wall at the end of the gymnasium. He hung there for a moment, stunned before dropping unsteadily to his feet.
"Wha-what happened?" he groaned. His face was red from the impact with the volleyball and three separate lumps sprouted from his head.
"I think," came Akane's frosty tones, "that Happosai's teachings are just a little too close to the surface, Jiro."
Jiro blinked owlishly, noticing Ranma, Akane and Shampoo protecting their bosoms while the guys restrained chuckles and the girls glared daggers at the guys. He felt wonderful. He had gotten a large charge off all three – enough that his fingers still tingled. He writhed them briefly letting himself replay sensory memory and earning himself dark looks. Pulling himself together he smirked. "Heh… Maybe." He gave Shampoo a look. "Hey, sweetie, why don't you and I have a real challenge match and deal with our frustrations afterwards?"
Shampoo looked offended. "What you think Amazon womans is?" she snapped, her Japanese suffering.
"Okay, I'll beat up Ranma and then…"
The gym teachers cleared their throats almost simultaneously and stepped into their line of sight. "Let's get back to the game." They sweated as they waited for the potential combatants to stand down.
Finally, Ranma held up a hand. "Can I get some hot water, first?"
oOo
When lunch came around, the whole business at gym seemed forgotten, if you didn't count the gloating the girls did over beating the guys three games straight. Joined by Marinara-sensei, they sat down to eat their lunches and make further notes on who would be available for the performance that evening. Calls had been made and it was now confirmed that Akane would be stepping into the lead as Clara, and while the backup dancers would be scarcer than they liked, there would be a minimum to manage the performance.
Especially since Kodachi was coercing Taro into joining the cast. He had stopped in to have lunch with Kodachi and had been put on notice. Protests and complaints had been unavailing as Kodachi firmly wrapped him around her little finger and made him promise to help in both forms if needed. Due to this and wounded dignity, he was sulking over his bento deciding what to try first.
Ranma and Akane had noted that Shampoo seemed introspective since gym class. She shot glances at Jiro from time to time and mumbled to herself.
"What's wrong, Shampoo?" Akane inquired.
"Stupid hentai, Jiro!" she grumped. "You know he leave bruises?" she complained, plumping her chest. "Shampoo will teach him lesson."
Ranma smirked. "Yer backslidin', Amazon."
Shampoo frowned. "Okay. I will teach him a lesson! Is that better?" she corrected her Japanese.
As Akane giggled, Ranma looked pained. "That ain't exactly what I meant."
"If he challenged you and won, what would that mean for you and Ranma?" Akane asked.
Shampoo grimaced. "It has not happened often. Since Ranma and I have not consummated the marriage, a successful challenger could cancel kiss of marriage."
"Would that stop the challenges?" Ranma asked hopefully. Akane and Shampoo's duels were a constant worry.
"Yes, but there other worry." Her Japanese degraded again as she frowned.
"Would I still be able to become your heart sister?" Akane asked concerned.
Shampoo patted Akane's hand. "Yes, though the dueling would stop."
Ranma grinned madly. "I wouldn't mind that." Shampoo rolled her eyes, while Akane bopped him.
"A lot of faith you have in me, sensei!" Akane grumped.
"You should have more faith, Ranma!" Shampoo added. She glanced at Jiro and sighed. "He is so… short! And homely!" She slumped sidewise and rested her head on Akane's shoulder. "I hope he doesn't challenge me."
Ranma started to open his mouth to be met with twin glares. The words died on his lips. So instead, he changed the subject. "Getting back to the revenge thing; won't that sorta make him challenge ya?"
Shampoo shrugged. "It Amazon's duty to put upstart pervert male in his place." She sighed and sat back up. She chewed on her lip. "It is risk Shampoo must take."
"So… What are ya plannin'?" Ranma prompted.
"Not sure yet." She eyed Jiro where he sat, a short distance away in the lunchroom. "Do not worry. I remember what you say about pervert boys when Shampoo – when I first come to Furinken. Now, how to distract him?" She looked around thoughtfully. She noticed a figure moving through the lunch line. "Be right back."
Shampoo got up and crossed to the lunch line, passing Jiro on the way. She carefully inserted herself into the line and smiled at the lunch lady. "Shampoo would like to borrow hot sauce and wasabi, yes?" she asked politely.
The lunch lady – short, wide and with a huge hairnet – looked decidedly hostile. "Did you buy lunch?" Shampoo shook her head. "Then, no! Get lost!"
Shampoo frowned and leaned over toward the older irascible woman. "You not polite to Amazon?" she asked coolly. She let the other woman consider who she was talking to.
"C'mon! Get a move on!" snarled the obnoxious male voice of the person she had cut in front of. Kogara Daibunmasatsu sneered at Shampoo where she blocked his progress in line. It would have been a pity he wasn't among the ill and absent if he wasn't so useful in this instance. "If you two kitchen servants are though chatting, I'd like to get my lunch!"
Shampoo and the lunch lady both bridled at his tone. The latter turned to the Amazon and said almost sweetly, "Here, dearie." She handed her squeeze bottles of the requested condiments. "Take your time."
Shampoo walked away with a smirk. Two obnoxious males disciplined this day! She let a solid dollop of wasabi plop on the floor in front of her, sweeping with her foot as she passed to create a slippery surface where the annoying kendoist should step as he left the line. She set her foot down with a casual twist scraping the remaining condiment from its sole and then timed her progress to intercept Jiro's position just as –
"AHHHH! (CRASH! SPLATTER! CLATTER!) Kogara ended up on his ass, covered in his recently purchased lunch. Almost everyone in the lunchroom turned to look, including Jiro.
Ranma and Akane admired how Shampoo kept her aura under control, and relying on natural speed only, selected an onigiri (filled rice ball) from his bento, scooped out the filling, popping it into her mouth for lack of any better place as she replaced it with wasabi and resealed it. Then she practically emptied the hot sauce into his soda can.
Without missing a step, she continued on to sit with Ranma and Akane.
Akane looked at the nearly empty condiment containers then over at Jiro. "Kamisama, Shampoo!" she whispered. Beyond them Kogara was cursing and flailing as he tried to get back on his feet. Jiro was turned completely away, laughing his head off and unaware his food was tampered with. Shampoo grinned then swallowed.
"Sweet bean paste filling," she said in partial explanation. "Jiro get little surprise in onigiri." Ranma was desperately trying not to fall off his chair.
Akane shook her head in admiration. "I did this once, I think," she remarked, reading the label on the wasabi. "Oh! And this is the really hot stuff too!" Ranma did slide out of his chair laughing. "How did you do that without flaring your ki?"
Shampoo gave a single glance in Jiro's direction and, for forms sake, modified her lunch slightly. "Must keep some secrets, Akane." Anxiously, they contemplated Jiro's fate.
"AARRRRRGGGH!" Jiro 'found' the doctored onigiri. And while normally, he could overcome assaults on his palette of this sort, the unexpectedness overcame him. He snatched at his soda can. The can crinkled slightly as he sucked down the contents.
Head still tilted back, his eyes shot wide. His skin turned red and steam seemed to waft from his ears. The can came down with a bang as his fist clenched, crushing it, and incidentally confirming to all, that he had indeed drained the contents. His head rotated eerily as he sought surcease from his pain. He snatched at the nearest container of liquid.
Too bad it held hot tea.
The entire room went still. Where Jiro had been seated now resided Happosai, pervert Grand Master of Mutsabetsu Kakuto Ryu and general pain in the ass. He gulped down air to recover from gulping down of a liter of warm liquid. Not that he noticed with the sensations his gullet had been sending him. In fact, like Ranma often did, he didn't notice the change of form immediately. Shampoo came to her feet and walked over, peering down at the little martial artist with an unreadable expression on her face.
"So… You think you challenge Shampoo for marriage, hmmmm...?"
Happosai scowled at her. "Did you spike my food, Shampoo!"
Taro slid in beside Shampoo. "Jiro, old buddy," he murmured, expression dark. "Really old buddy..."
Happosai/Jiro frowned at him. "Or were you responsible, centerfold?"
Taro fumed internally. His new girl-form was very lush, and the loss of his monster-form still rankled. Still, he gritted his teeth and forced a smile.
Despite his anger, the old man began to sweat as his aura picked up ominous signals from their's.
Shampoo growled to Taro, "Dibs."
Happosai sneered at Shampoo. "Ready to get married, cat-girl? I can hardly wait."
Taro ignored Happosai and turned to Shampoo outraged. "Waddya mean, 'Dibs.' I get him first!"
"Pretty boy should know by now that Amazon matters come first for Amazon warriors!" she turned snarling. "Pervert master offer marriage by combat to Shampoo. I get to beat up incestuous pervert freak first!"
Taro blinked. "Incestuous?"
Happosai had finally noticed his wrinkled old hands. 'Oh, sh-t! Could things get any worse?' He felt a presence behind him.
"Happosai," intoned sultry-voiced Hinako. "Do I understand you've been attending my school under false pretenses?" She flipped a fifty yen coin in her left hand.
Shampoo yanked her bonbori from hidden weapons space. "Pervert great-grandfather, Shampoo kill!"
oOo
From the outside, it seemed as if a bomb went off in the Furinken cafeteria.
oOo
The lunchroom was a disaster. With Happosai/Jiro, their Mouse King, escaped and in hiding, the ballet company was crippled even further. Hiroshi and Daisuke cringed when they were told they were moving up in the theatrical world. Daisuke would have to fulfill his understudy role as the Mouse-King as well as juggle with Hiroshi just before the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy. Hiroshi added Clara's brother, Fritz, originally Daisuke's part, in opening and closing scenes to his repertoire. Marinara-sensei sat slumped and despondent.
"Jiro is a dirty old man?" she repeated appalled.
"Yep. Sorry 'bout that," Ranma said shortly. "He's a real good martial artist, but a pervert and a scumbag. He really upset Shampoo, though I don't think he really would have gone through with it."
"Believe it!" snapped Shampoo. "He very big pervert! Shampoo beat within inch of life when catch!"
"Excuse me," interrupted Taro, in female form and seated next to Kodachi at the table. She had been splashed during the brief battle. "I'd appreciate it if he's not killed outright. I've still got some unfinished business with him."
Ranma sat at the far end of the table from them. Scowling, he watched Kodachi leaning slightly toward her lover. It still freaked him out that his, for all intents and purposes, identical twin was in an intimate relationship with a guy (who was a girl at the moment). It didn't help that Kodachi had always been a girl. It certainly didn't help to remember she was pregnant.
"At least, Taro," Kodachi said languidly, "you will be in an optimum location to meet him again; on stage."
"Ya think the freak's gonna be back, don't ya?" Ranma said flatly.
"What do you think, fem-boy?"
"Cut the 'fem-boy' comments, centerfold," Ranma countered irritably. Taro fumed. "Yer probably right, though. He even said as much."
"Yadda, yadda!" Shampoo mouthed. "I get back at you dumb kids! Yadda, yadda! I teach you lesson!" She fumed as Akane patted her on the shoulder.
"If this is turning into a martial arts battle…" Tense and unhappy, Marinara wrung her hands.
"If you call it off, Happosai will consider it a win. That you're afraid of him," Taro countered.
Marinara frowned. "If you use violence, you inspire violence."
"If someone else planning violence, failure to offer deterrent encourage him," Shampoo piped in. She winced at her grammar and collected her thoughts. "Great-grandmother will be there, as well. She is very angry at Happosai offering marriage duel to me." Her face was tight and unhappy. "Happosai cross line."
"I agree," Akane sighed and crossed her arms. Her gaze went into space. "Happosai has been only an irritant in the past, but recently, he's gone out of control; pretending to be a student. Honestly!"
"Just remember I want him before you do anything permanent to him!" reminded Taro.
"I liked Jiro," Gos complained. "He was funny. And he was no worse a pervert than Hiroshi or Daisuke." The other boys sweated as Yuka and Sayuri frowned at them.
Simone Marinara sighed pensively. "I can tell you people are going to go ahead with this regardless of my feelings. We're short on cast though. Jiro, or Happosai, was not only the Mouse King. He portrayed a few other minor parts. This virus has brought our female cast down to the bare minimum. If we lose any more…"
"At least it's only a flu virus," Akane offered. Shampoo huffed and nodded. It could have been worse; better flu than plague.
Taro sighed. "Well, I can do anything fem-b— Ranma can do!"
"You wish," Ranma muttered.
Taro glared. "As I was saying, I can do anything fem-boy can do. Run me through the routines and I'll pull it off."
"But you're not a student—! Oh, well, under the circumstances…" She glanced about her remaining cast. "We are rather short on men…"
Taro tapped his thermos and smiled sweetly. "Covered either way." Everyone nodded.
"Very well, Taro," Marinara said, "come with me and I'll put you through the blocking. If you are as good as you say, we have work for you. The rest of you need to get to class."
The students rose and left. Taro and the ballet instructor departed for the auditorium.
Akane sat in her seat, suddenly taken by a previous conversation that finally percolated through her brain. "Shampoo called Happosai her WHAT…?"
oOo
In the ceiling, in a ventilation shaft, a short form sat silently, contemplating what was heard. "Idiots!" it muttered. He quickly consumed the lunch he had stolen from the cafeteria. "No one understands me!" he muttered. "Idiots," he repeated. Happosai sat silently contemplating the past six months. To his mind, things had started going wrong at Himamashi's. He admitted he had lost control there, but Ranma's brutal enforcement to make him repair the place had been sufficient apology he felt.
Brrrr! Even remembering that day was scary. Ranma had not only gone into Nekoken, but had gone completely ballistic. He had been sure he was going to die. Ranma hadn't been that far out of control since, but it was obvious he had conscious control of the Nekoken these days. Surprisingly enough so did Akane. Somehow, Ranma had taught her. That was remarkable. Neither in Happi's memory nor in any manuscript he had ever read, had Nekoken been teachable; all practitioners had been emotionally crippled by the training. If Ranma had indeed mastered the Cat-fist, it was a world-class event and a gigantic addition to Mutsabetsu Kakuto. On top of that were the remarkable things they were doing with ki…
Many martial arts styles had hidden techniques, methods and training so secret that only those slated to be the Masters of the next generation ever learned them. Happosai had gotten involved with the Amazons decades ago because they held one of the most comprehensive compilations of ki techniques and magic in the world. He learned a lot before they made things too hot for him. Years later, he taught Genma some of those things and Genma, in turn, responded by creating Yamasen and Umisen. But Ranma…
Happosai estimated that roughly thirty to forty different ki techniques were under development or modification by the boy and his associates. Happosai, as Jiro, managed to spy on some of those techniques well enough to learn them. The shield technique, Chicaratate, had come in handy. Shampoo and Ukyo had definitely been trying to kill him. He also managed to learn the new Mouko Takabisha, the Katana Chikara and the Ribonotsukeru. The latter two, the ki sword and ki ribbon respectively, had some uses; but compared to what Ranma had at his command, Happosai didn't dare face him directly. The boy was just too good. He had to have a weakness, something that Happi heard while he was spying on them. Suddenly he snapped his fingers and smiled.
oOo
After Chemistry, the ballet company simply camped out in the auditorium. Taro, in girl-form with breasts bound, went through the simpler blocking of the opening where she would be part of the Christmas celebrants. As the students moved to their places, they prepared to do a final run-through before the evening's performance. The performance would run, they estimated, less than two hours. The Nekohanten, Ucchan's and Taroka's Yakitori-ya provided dinner for the cast at the school.
Taro was indeed a prodigy. Marinara was almost in tears. During the past month she had tried to interest Ranma in a ballet career, to no avail. Here was another man (or woman), just as skilled. She was already plotting to steal him, and maybe the Kodachi girl as well. They, at least, hadn't said no outright.
Taro sweated a bit, but quickly learned the necessary roles. Her real objective was Happosai and she didn't care what happened after he showed up. She didn't expect the ballet to finish after the mayhem that would ensue once Happosai made his appearance. She scowled at Hiroshi and Daisuke who had never seen her girl-form before. Comments like 'hotter than Ranma' didn't sit very well. When they sidled up to her during a break, she was prepared for anything, she thought.
"We understand that you're looking for Happosai," Hiroshi said. Taro's eyes hooded but she nodded. "What'll you do if this doesn't work?" Taro shrugged.
"We have a suggestion," Daisuke broke in. "Please forgive us, but you and Kodachi seem to be a couple." Taro's body language went from wary to displeased and threatening. Daisuke pressed on. "Ummm… Happosai has always been wild for Ranma's girl-type…"
"…or any really pretty girl for that matter…" Hiroshi added.
"…or panties, pantyhose, bras…" Daisuke droned on.
"Enough!" snapped Taro. "What are you two getting at?"
The two glanced at one another. "Well, Kodachi is Ranma's double these days, due to the Ranma-iichuan and Togenkyo." Hiroshi pointed out.
"I'm not using Kodachi as bait! Understand?" Taro growled.
"That's not what we had in mind," Daisuke clarified. They leaned in closer and whispered intently. Taro purpled then looked thoughtful. She wandered over and tapped Kodachi on the shoulder and spoke quietly to her. Her eyebrows arched high and Taro looked discomfited. The she pursed her lips and glanced toward Hiroshi and Daisuke. She whispered something back and nodded. Taro smirked slightly and walked away from the redhead. Hiroshi and Daisuke hurried over.
"What did she say?"
"Interesting idea; a video of the two of us for bait? But why do we need you two?" replied Taro. "Anybody can get a camcorder and a tripod."
He smirked as their faces fell and they slunk away.
"Darn! I thought that would work, too," grumbled Dai.
"It did. They just won't do it with us," whined Hiroshi.
Their latest plot to do a porno flick went flaming into history.
oOo
That evening, fellow students and family filed into the auditorium, to view Furinkan's performance of that ballet classic, The Nutcracker. Most had their suspicions, but few realized just how classic this production would turn out to be.