Long before Ranma and his father Genma visited Jusenkyo and met with their cursed fate, many years before Ranma first met Akane, the Saotome males traveled through China seeking strength, honor, and adventure. This is their story.

Iron Ranma Episode Two!

-Forestry Service-

Deep within the heart of China there are thousands of acres of wilderness that are as yet untamed, and often have gone completely unexplored. Animals roam freely without fear of being hunted by man, and the trees sway gently in untainted breezes. So it is easy to imagine the surprise of various woodland creatures as a large Japanese man and his ten-year-old boy went crashing through one such part of the forest.

"Pooooops, why can't we jus' use a trail?"

Genma, the elder Saotome, was laughing heartily as he swung his machete. Tall as he was and thick with muscle, vine creepers and sapling trees fell before him easily. He couldn't imagine hiking on a ready-made trail while such free entertainment existed. To him, clearing his own path was a form of meditation, relaxing and exciting all at the same time. He stopped at his son's question, however, and turned to look at Ranma with a disapproving frown.

"Now look here, son." He didn't quite growl, but Ranma knew he was in for an earful anyway, "Just because you're a weak little boy doesn't mean that I'm going to let you get soft. If you want to walk on the trails like a little girl we'll be walking for days!" He sneered contemptuously as he continued. "Let the Chinese have their trails that wind around aimlessly, we're going the direct route. You got that, boy?"

Ranma sighed and nodded. He should have known, really. His father would never devote himself to such a chore if he wasn't enjoying himself, and he was never quite as belligerent as when he was interrupted doing something he enjoyed. As Genma resumed his chopping Ranma returned to looking around the forest. He supposed that it would be kind of nice to let his father work, since as long as he did that there was no way Genma would come up with weird new ways to teach him. All the 'subtle nuances of the art', as his father called them, could be taught in many ways. It just so happened that the more unique the training the more likely it was that Genma would use it. That didn't mean that Ranma was left to do nothing while his father cleared the way. That would be a waste of time in Genma's eyes, so he had decided to let Ranma do a little strength training while they traveled.

"But didya hafta line yer pack's bottom with bricks before ya gave it ta me?"

"Are you going to whine or are you going to walk, boy? If it's that difficult I could always find a nice village girl to replace you!"

Ranma blushed furiously at that. Even though he was only ten his father had already taught him that girls were weak and inferior to men. To hear Genma suggest that a girl could do anything better than him made Ranma grit his teeth and strain to stand upright beneath the weight of their packs. He reseated the packs on his back and walked with sure, strong strides while he glared defiantly at his father.

"Anythin' a girl can do, I can do! And ain't no girl can do tha things I can do!"

"That's the spirit boy, now shut up and walk!" Genma plowed through the forest with new vigor, pushing Ranma harder than he had previously. After just a few more minutes, though, he broke through the forest into a wide clearing.

It looked to be about thirty yards across, with a thick carpet of wild grass and flowers springing up across the treeless ground. In the center of the clearing was something that looked as out of place as a yeti in a casino. Standing proud and in good repair was a restaurant, doors open for business with the sounds and smells of cooking wafting from the open doors and windows. The two Saotome males exchanged curious looks and then began to walk towards 'The Clearing Kitchen' as a sign declared it.

"Hello?" Genma called out as he crossed the threshold, "We'd like a table!" Ranma followed cautiously behind his father, wary for an ambush.

Much to Genma's surprise they were answered by a voice that reminded him of chimes in the wind. A willowy, yet beautiful, woman stepped out from the kitchen and into the dining room. Her heart-shaped face and gently pouting lips added to her ethereal beauty, as did her gliding step and open, inviting eyes. Such a hostess surely meant that this was a high-class establishment, despite its location. Genma would have normally begun to reconsider wanting a table, but he couldn't resist a strong desire to sit and eat, if only to make this woman happy.

"Hello honored customers! Welcome to my kitchen and please have a seat. I will serve you whatever you wish!"

Genma gulped as the waitress smiled widely, and nodded quietly as he followed her to a table. Ranma and Genma sat at the sturdy table and waited patiently. Ranma wasn't particularly impressed by the woman, as she was just a girl, but he knew that if he spoke out his father would probably have his head. He seemed to be in an odd mood suddenly. Ranma shrugged mentally and stowed their packs beneath the table while waiting for his father to order.

"Please allow us to serve you today's dish," said the waitress in her lilting sing-song voice, "It is a local specialty using spices grown nearby and freshwater fish! You will enjoy every minute of your repast!"

Genma nodded slightly and held up two fingers, to indicate Ranma would have the same. The woman's smile, if possible, got bigger as she glided softly back to the kitchen. She returned moments later with simple mugs and a large pitcher filled with crystal clear water. Immediately pouring himself a cup, Genma knocked back the water and refilled. Ranma just rolled his eyes at his father's antics. While he drank the water the woman disappeared back into the kitchen, at which point Ranma decided he'd had enough.

"Hey, old man!" The boy waved his hand in front of his father's eyes. "Hey! What's gotcha bent around crooked pops?"

Genma just blinked at his son, then tilted his head in a completely uncharacteristic expression of confusion. Ranma sweated a little and chuckled nervously. Something wasn't quite right with the way his father was acting, but he couldn't quite figure out what the matter was. Quietly Ranma stood up from the table and began to explore the restaurant. His curiosity often won out against better judgment. In this case he knew he should probably be trying to get his father back to normal and get out of this place. First, though, he wanted to figure out what if anything was going on.

The dining area seemed completely unremarkable. Sturdy oak tables were faced with simple pine chairs; the floor boards were visible and had been laid to allow dust and crumbs to filter through to the ground beneath. Simple rounded studs held the roof up, and across the front and one side the retaining wall only came up halfway, to allow patrons a decent view outside while eating. The view was tranquil and everything seemed normal but Ranma couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness about the place. Maybe this was what his father had been talking about when he blathered on about being able to sense danger coming?

Regardless, Ranma's stomach won out against both curiosity and reason, and he made his way back to the table. Shortly afterwards the two Saotomes received their meal, a hearty fish stew and a loaf of fresh buttered bread. The waitress laid their plates gently to the table and stood smiling down at them. Her raven hair floated down across her brows as she bowed, giving her a slightly sinister cast that Genma never noticed. It sent chills up Ranma's spine, however.

"Please eat heartily and enjoy your meal, kind customers."

Ranma's hand stopped halfway to his mouth with a spoonful of soup. It hit him like a lightning bolt as he realized what had been setting him on edge this entire time. In every village, and every traveler they had talked to before now, everyone had spoken their native Chinese. Ranma had suspected at first that they didn't know Japanese. But as he grew wiser about the world around him he began to realize that not only did they not know, they just didn't care to speak the foreigner's language. So why would this particular waitress, at a restaurant where there should be no restaurant, talk to him in Japanese where there should be no Japanese customers. And she spoke with a perfect local accent just like his father's!

His eyes widened as he watched his father begin to shovel the stew into his mouth. Time seemed to slow as Ranma turned his spoon upside down and dumped its contents. He flicked his wrist and the spoon hummed across the table, knocking Genma's spoon clear. Outrage colored Genma's features as he slammed his chair back and stood.

"Boy! What is the meaning of this?" He began to step around the table, and as he did Ranma saw the waitress smirk slightly. That clenched it; she should have been backing up in fear. Besides that, since when did his pops ever get so mad about a little spoonful? They fought for food all the time!

Ranma leapt up from his seat, overturning the table as he did so. That got the waitresses' attention, as she shrieked in outrage. It ascended into octaves that shouldn't have been possible for her to hit, high enough to cause Ranma and Genma to double over in pain with their hands clasped over their ears.

"You think you're so clever boy!" The woman's voice had lost its musical quality, and had shifted into something darker and more snake like, "You think you aren't already trapped? You'll never escape!" At that the woman leapt for Ranma, who was caught completely off guard by the sudden attack of the seemingly gentle woman. She never made it to him, however.

Shaking his head to clear it, Genma saw the woman advance on his son. Free of whatever she had done to him when he first entered the building, he saw her as she truly was. Hair dirty and matted, face contorted by rage and genetics alike, the hag wore tattered robes that appeared to be a century out of date. Genma didn't waste a moment as he ducked to the ground and shot a leg out to trip the woman. She hit it and went flying past Ranma to the other side of the dining room. The 'waitress' crashed into the far wall and slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Genma stood up and quickly retrieved the packs from their table, then grabbed Ranma's hand and led the shocked boy out of the restaurant and back into the forest. Genma moved as quickly as he could to put some distance between them and the clearing.

"Hey, pops, what're we runnin' from? Ya put 'er out cold!"

"Hold your tongue, boy, that woman wasn't what she appeared to be. Besides, I don't want to have to pay for that meal and those chairs we broke, not to mention hurting a member of their wait staff."

"I shoulda known ya weren't concerned 'bout nothin but yer wallet pops!"

Ranma had more to say, but stopped abruptly as a keening wail came from the direction of the clearing. As a light brighter than the sun filtering through the forest canopy, Genma threw Ranma across the packs on his back and started to run in earnest.

"Let this be your first lesson on women, boy, sometimes they just need space!"

Ranma was bouncing violently atop Genma's load, but he could see clearly behind them. He didn't like what he saw.

"Uh, pops, do girls normally come flyin' atcha with fire spurtin' from their hands?"

"No son, why do you ask?"

"Cos I think ya need ta run faster, pops!"

Genma turned around and saw the formerly very beautiful waitress flying at them, a nimbus of fire surrounding her body and focused in the palms of her hands. Her mouth was open in a wordless snarl of rage, and her eyes were a deep red. Genma tossed the packs, and Ranma, to one side as he leapt in the opposite direction. The woman-thing passed between them harmlessly, but Genma still felt the intense heat of her passage. He saw her rebound off a tree and come at him, leaving the trunk of her springboard slightly smoldering.

Genma was no slouch when it came to combat, and the way he saw it most women couldn't control the elemental force of fire let alone fly. It helped that she had fangs and red eyes. It was enough to convince him he faced not a woman, but a demon, and he had no problems putting the hurt on demons.

He allowed his stored energy to burst forth from his body, and as he did so a visible blue nimbus surround him. He caught the demon as she screeched towards him, easily absorbing both the impact and her flames. Using his aura to quench the mystical flames was no easy task, but it was better than being turned into a bonfire. Genma grabbed the she-demon by her wrists and swung her around, slamming her backwards into the trunk of a nearby tree. The tree shuddered dangerously and began to fall as he felt the woman's body go limp. Her aura flickered and went out quietly. He allowed his own aura to die then laid her down so he could look over her. To his surprise she was still awake and she stared up at him with those deep red eyes.

"You have defeated this body, outsider, but not me. I wonder if you can stop me the next time I find you."

Genma smiled mirthlessly at the creature, "Anywhere you face me, is a place you face defeat demon. A martial artist cannot rest while your kind roams free."

"Funny words from you, human, I can feel the taint of familiarity on you. You spent much time with one such as me."

Genma's grin slipped into a wordless snarl of anger. "You bring up the past to see your own future, beast, but it won't work. I've left that life behind me!"

The demon chuckled as the light began to go out of its eyes. One more phrase passed through its lips as it died. "You can change your actions...but not your nature...Saotome...Genma..."

Ranma had picked himself up from where he had been thrown and began to make his way over to his father.

"What was it babblin' about, pops?"

Genma threw out a hand towards his son. "Don't come any closer boy, grab the packs!" The forest was beginning to smolder as the trees the demon had passed caught fire. Genma arranged the poor woman's body the demon had possessed and said her last rights, though he knew she'd been dead since long before he had been born. He strode over to where his son was hoisting the packs onto his back and relieved his son of one.

"I'll carry my pack for now, boy. Let's get out of here."

"What 'bout her, pops? She isn't...ya kno, ya didn't...kill her...didya pops?" Ranma stared as his father, his blue eyes showing an emotion Genma hadn't seen very often. Open fear that a father's actions could be wrong.

"No son, I didn't kill her. I avenged her. I've fought that type of spirit before, and when they take a body they don't leave anything behind. Her funeral has been a long time coming boy; let this forest be her pyre. We've got to move if we're going to find a place to stop before nightfall. Let's go."

Ranma nodded and followed his father, but turned around once to look back towards where Genma had defeated the demon. He had never considered before the words that his father seemed to repeat unconsciously whenever something dangerous happened. 'The life of a true martial artist is fraught with peril'. But hadn't he been taught that girls were weak, and had to be protected at all costs? His father had always told him that hell should freeze before he raised his fists willingly against a woman.

Ranma muttered to himself, "Maybe it ain't always one way or tha other"

Deep in the forests of China there are many secrets and mysteries still unseen by the eyes of man. Genma Saotome and his son, Ranma, travel these forests freely searching for strength, honor, and adventure. But sometimes what they find isn't what they were expecting, and not all lessons are easy for a ten-year-old martial artist to learn.

The forest burned behind them, sending thick black smoke into the sky. Neither Saotome saw it, but as the light filtered through the darkening cloud there seemed to be a smiling face gazing down at their retreating backs in gratitude. The wind changed, and then it was gone.