American McGee's 'Ranma'

Nabiki hadn't been in her room for more than five minutes, before she growled at the sensation of peckishness that she was feeling. Sniffing in fustration, the middle Tendou sister decided that she may is well go downstairs to grab a bite to eat. She would have to decide who to blame for it later, as she was specifically irritated to having to make a trip downstairs and back up again. As she reached the final stair, she decided to see if the disgusting creature her father was too gutless to remove was still there on its own accord. She half-expected the redheaded uninvited guest to be gone by now. But then again, she also half-expected her youngest sister to have bedded that pathetic and wretched slip of a girl.

"Little dykes," Nabiki mumbled, as she stepped past the door of the guest reception room. It wasn't as if Nabiki herself hadn't expiramented, but she done so simply for the great sensation of power it gave her; to dominate another being, being boy or girl. Humiliating them, breaking them, and enjoying it immensely when they thanked her and begged her for more. It wasn't the physical contact that Nabiki lusted for, it wasn't the release that was recieved from the exploration of each other's most intimate areas. It was power she weilded that she yearned for.

Unfortunately, Nabiki could easily see that this one was already a broken toy, flippantly disgarded to refuge. There is no fun in indulging with such a miserable excuse for a human being. Let her equally pathetic and worthless sister have a bone, believing probably that she would be able to find someone to care for her, and not feel so lonely. HAH! How could you possibly find love from someone who couldn't even love themselves? Sometimes, Akane's optimism, regardless of how much Nabiki ensured she suffered, was obscenely sickening.

Nabiki looked through the threshold, to find her father sitting before a rather stout man. His build was extremely muscular in a girthy way, far from sculpted masculine beauty, but obviously strong nonetheless. His expression held almost as much contempt as Nabiki herself did for others, though he attempted to hide it well. Nabiki had to roll her eyes, presuming that was most likely the redheaded bitch's father, but from what she guaged on him, she could possibly respect the man, if it weren't for the fact of what his daughter was. She didn't place blame by poor parenting on his behalf, but by being associated with the waste in the first place.

Nabiki walked to the kitchen, finding her eldest sister preparing snacks for two. "Kasumi, who's that guy with Daddy?" Nabiki enquired, not that she hadn't already surmised the answer, and not that she expected her vapid ditz of a sister to answer correctly.

Kasumi gave her usual almost drug induced smile, "He's Mr. Panda."

Nabiki almost found the answer amusing, as she walked fully into the kitchen, and grabbed a piece of the fried snacks Kasumi had been preparing, "How adorable of you, sis."

Kasumi only continued to smile, as she headed to the back porch. She found Ranma sitting there, staring into the night with a lost expression, not that it was something she could realize.

"Ranma, would you like to take a bath?"

The pigtailed girl's head shot up in shock; she hadn't even noticed the girl approach her, and still couldn't actually 'sense' her. It was as if she weren't there. For all Ranma's training, she could not sense any aura of intent from the girl, as if her own life energy was spread about her so thin, just barely enough to support her.

Shaking herself out of her daze, Ranma shook her head, "No, that's okay,"

Kasumi shook her head slowly, giggling, "Oh, Ranma, you're TOO smelly. You have to go bathe." Without waiting for further argument, Kasumi handed Ranma a towel, and guided her to the bathroom.

Nabiki held a bowl of the snacks and one of the beers Kasumi had prepared for the guests, not caring at all who they were really for. Just as she reached the door to her room, Akane slowly exited hers. Nabiki went to ignore Akane, as she entered the door, before her younger sister decided that she had to irritate her somehow, or at least that's what Nabiki felt.

"is the bath ready?" Akane asked, not wanting to really talk to Nabiki, lest she become a victim of her sister's verbal assaults; be them subtle or obvious, but also didn't like being ignored.

Fortunately for her, Nabiki wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone, "Yeah, whatever."

Nabiki's door shut, leaving Akane to stand alone in the hall, sighing. Akane quietly walked back into her room, and gathered a change of nightcloths. She attempted to remain unnoticed, as she gingerly walked down the steps, and scurried to the bathroom. Once inside, she sighed, and allowed her thoughts to run again.

She was sure that despite the smile, and Akane's attempt at lightening the mood, that the girl was afraid of her. She had lost control, and with one strike, potentally could have killed Ranma. Tears flowing freely once again since she had escaped the dojo to her room, Akane shed her gi, and caught herself in the mirror.

Taunt flesh seemed to flow like turbulent ocean waters against ripling muscle and sinew. She hardly had a reason to wear bras anymore, and used the excuse of consistantly exercising as the reason she wore sports bras. Her waist was slim, almost unhealthily so, while her hips remained wide from bone structure. Legs continued from there, almost reminded Akane of slim oak treetrunks lined with living cords. Her body, the one she has spent her teenage years cultivating, the one she had worked hard for, the one she had cheated for, she could only sum up in one word. Grotesque.

Akane rationalized that it was the price of being the best; trading off her femeninity for the power she weilded, for the strength she owned. But... she wasn't the best, was she?

Not too long ago, a redheaded girl that seemed even younger than her defeated her handily. Though Ranma made no strike against her, Akane held not false notions what would have happened if the girl had. Ranma could move through her attacks as if she weren't even bothering. The beautful, exotic redhead with the innocent expression and childlike coyness could have hit any point on her to disable Akane. Akane lost to Ranma, a girl that hadn't had to give up her beauty for the art. A girl Akane all to greatly admired, and even lusted after. Ranma was beautiful, while Akane was ugly. Ranma was skillful, while Akane was cumbersome. Ranma was perfect, an idol for Akane, a goddess in the raven haired girl's eyes. What could she have to offer a deity?

Realizing the hopelessness of her infatuation, Akane felt the familiar yet overbearing weight of her insecurities pounding down on her like an ice laden waterfall. Nabiki was fond of letting Akane know how pathetic she was, maybe not in such a word, but her intents were obvious.

Almost as if attempting to escape her own thoughts, Akane rushed into the tub area of the bathroom, wanting scrub her ugliness away, and drown her insecurities in scalding hot water. She wanted to arise as some one pretty, someone confident in themselves. A perfect match for the redheaded girl.

Her yearning thoughts were abruptly ceased, as she spyed a young man rising from the tub, marked in scars, rippling with muscles that any man would kill to have, and any woman would kill to have on their man. For several moments, the young stranger stared back at Akane with eyes filled with fear and shock, while Akane stared in quiet admiration and want. It was then she realized she was standing naked before one of the most beautiful men she had ever known about; even the patchwork of scars didn't detract from his gorgousness, only serving to speak of the suffering he had endured in his short lifetime.

Before she even realized it, Akane was rushing out the bathroom, with her gi top wrapped around her to hide her shame. A boy had seen her body. A boy that would be utterly disgusted with the sight he was given. A boy that would later mock her, sneer at her, spit at her feet for she was such a disgusting creature.

The thoughts of contempt from a boy she didn't even know began to fuel a growing rage in her. How dare a boy sneak into her bathroom, the pervert! How dare he look at her! How dare he gawk at her body like some sort of freak exibit!

Adrenaline made for a powerful ally with Akane's already menacing stature, as she lifted the heavy stone lantern in the backyard up, "I'LL KILL HIM! I'LL DROWN HIM IN THE BATHTUB!!!"

"Akane, what the hell's wrong with you?" sighed Nabiki. She had come to investigate the scream that Akane didn't even know she was emitting, wondering what managed to get such a rise out of her sister.

"THERE'S A PERVERT IN THE BATHTUB!!!" Akane screamed, as her rage intensified the longer she was stalled. Akane mind only concentrated on the anger within. Once she got up the stairs, she would most assuradly kill the boy. She wouldn't have any restraint whatsoever, and she wouldn't stop until the rage receeded, and she found her hands thick with his blood.

"Then why didn't you just kill him with your bare hands?" Nabiki enquired, knowing full well that her sister was capable of it. It would have been hilarious, her little sister convicted of murder of some peeping tom. They both would have deserved what would have come to them.

Akane opened her mouth to answer immidiately, but hesitated. She didn't kill him right then and there, because she ran. She had to run because she couldn't stand the thought of another person seeing the full extent of her vileness.

"Because I was afraid!" was Akane's reply, as she didn't want to admit to her true shame.

"Oooooh My," Kasumi said in a tone just higher than a whisper, "Wasss the pervert Ranma? Oh, who are you?"

At the peculiar question, both Nabiki and Akane turned, to find a young man with black unruly hair that was tied in the back into a pigtail, standing self-conciously at the base of the stairs.

"Ranma Saotome," the boy ducked his head down, hiding his eyes from them so they couldn't see the tempest of emotions beyond them. "I'm sorry about all this."