American McGee's 'Ranma'

Genma looked down upon his pathetic, worthless son, damning him for his idiocy. Not even an hour, and he had already complicated matters. The damn little idiot didn't seem to understand how delicate of a situation this was. He was to be married to one of the three little bitches across from them, must he prove himself a freak before things could be settled?

Ranma kept his eyes downcast, not wanting to meet anyone's looks. The looks of pity, of distain, of disgust; the looks he knew would well be boring on him like the bare, searing rays of an angry sun. Akane, who he had hoped might actually accept him as a friend, something he desperately wanted again, would now shun him; that hurt the most.

Their host sat in the dimmest recesses of the room, cowering in the absense of light, fearing the tenseness that permeated the air in a chocking, relentless fog, while the three girls sat before their guests; one condemning and now openly hostile, one accusing and distainful, and the final one almost obliviously lost.

"What the hells is this all about?" Nabiki demanded. This foolishness; this asinine insinuation that this cowed boy and that pathetic slip of a girl from earlier were one in the same, she was far from amused. Nabiki disliked being made a fool, and those who have attempted in the past well understood their folly in the present, as they tended to always live with a constant reminder of their impudence.

Kasumi swayed, and chuckled in a childlike mirth. "Ranma's a girlboy!" she said with her airy, hollow voice filled with perpetual cheer.

"Hmph," Genma managed to make even such an insiginfitant sound in his distain rumble through everyone's souls like the devil's word about to become dee, "Where should I begin?" Genma suddenly turned towards his son, grabbing Ranma by the front of his shirt.

Years of trained instinct and talent ignited, as Ranma began to counter by wrapping his own arms under his father's, locking them straight. Before he could move any further, he found himself staring directly into his father's angry, outraged expression. Ranma's shock drowned out his straining, slacking his hold upon his father.

Finding Ranma had relenquished his counter, Genma brought his right hand up, striking the back of it against Ranma's face.

Nabiki chuckled slightly, her sadistic mirth leaving a languish, mocking smirk in its wake. Akane winced, acknowledging the sympathy she then felt, before her anger found its command. Soun moaned softly, parroting the laments of the ghosts that haunted his mind, as the sound of flesh hitting flesh brought the image of his dear deceased wife, crumbling down the stairs listlessly after she stumbled from the top. Soun rubbed the back of his hand, never able to rid it of the slight smear of seemingly everpresent blood from a busted lip, and spit.

Ranma's head remained turned, his eyes welling up from the intense and stinging pain that ran a score across his cheek, as his father then launched him through the back door.

Ranma stood up from the swaying shallow pool, unable to hold back her tears, but thankful for the water disguising them. "Why?" Ranma asked her father, simply.

"Mm?" Nabiki gawked, unsure of what she had just seen.

"Now he's a girl," Kasumi cooed, before chewing on the tip of her finger, absently breaking the flesh of it, and drawing blood.

Genma growled at such an idiotic question, approaching his drenched son, "Ranma, pah, how humiliating to have such a pathetic, whining child."

Ranma's chest burned with desolate pain, growing so intense she had no recourse but to swallow it up with her equally growing anger. She knew what her father would say, it was something he had said far too many times since she had gotten her curse. Accusations of femeninity and lack of prideful manhood dug into Ranma like a serrated blade. It was a malady that Ranma failed to overcome, the constant loss of her manhood, and the sensation of failure that always accompanied it.

"DAMN YOU!" Ranma shouted, leaving a geyser from the manmade pond and an after-image in her wake, as she circled around her father, and planted him into the bare hole, right before the water above returned to its source. Thw whole event moved faster than the Tendou daughters could follow; only able to witness Ranma's strobe image, and the girl when she finally stopped moving.

"Ranma's fast!" Kasumi exclaimed, wringing her hair idly. Nabiki couldn't even remember to breath. For someone to move fast enough for even her keen eyes to register...

Thoughts of grander schemes drifted unabated through her mind. Notions of being absolutely undefiable with Ranma at her side; a weapon deadlier than any blade or gun. The boy cursed with a girl's form would prove invaluable to her. No longer fearing the Yakuza, for she could have her own special protection. Having the ability to cower those who dared cross her by a simple, passing mention of a beautifully deadly person, it was simply a gift from the gods, to her. Of course, even she could see that the girl was sincerely lacking the proper temperment for what Nabiki needed. Fortunately, Nabiki could arrange for the necessary 'conditioning'. Now finding value in the pigtailed boy, Nabiki decided on her course of action.

Akane stared, wide-eyed and envious. No one, NO ONE had she ever seen simply could move that fast. NO ONE could ever have such ability, while practicing such grace and beauty, even while being man enshrouded in a prison of femeninity. Pain, fresh as a seeping wound, simmered within her, seductively cooing for her to allow it to expulge forth like a bellowing volcano, caressing frame of her vision with the hated red twinge that pained the world in blood that it demanded she spill. Akane looked away, fearing that her terrible, cursed rage would overcome her.

"Daddy, why are you friends with them?" Kasumi asked, swaying her head towards her father in the darkened corner, and away from the furious staredown between Ranma and her father. Genma's burning and deadly grave eyes bore down on the pigtailed girl, but for once, Ranma refused to back away. Even as the large panda began to flex its claws, and bear its teeth, the redheaded girl was ready to welcome mutilation, than lose face in this instance.

"They weren't always like this," Soun replied, barely above a whisper, "Not before their training... in China."

The panda gave Ranma a withering glare, before heading towards the bathroom. Once it's focus was off of her, Ranma visibly sagged, almost more exhausted than any of her heated 'sparring' matches with that man.

__________________________

"Here, sir, is legendary training ground of Cursed Springs," the pudgy man in the unkept Maoist uniform introduced. He managed to sound enthuesiastic, as always, witholding his true indifference. They had enquired for him to lead them to the most dangerous training grounds in the area, which had fit into the 'guide's' routine perfectly. In truth, he only worked as a guide in order to relieve his own boredom, and perhaps bring in a great deal more cash for himself. Even in the oppulence he enjoyed, his greed never was satiated.

His task, for the last fifteen years, had been to document the activities of the locals, and report any... unapproved actions that arose. The communist seat in Beijing did not feel it necessary to expend resources in wiping out such isolationist tribes as the Musk, Neichiizu, and Phoenix, but they would not hesitate with a strategic nuke if they ever showed intentions of bringing back the imperialism of old. Even with the old goverment disappated, they decided it was still the only goverment they recognized.

The three tribes also wished nothing to do with the Socialist goverment, and favored their posted observer with wealths that blinded his eyes to their inner workings, and satisifed his 'curiosities' by keeping him fat. He even had a daughter through one of the many whores provided to him by the so-called 'Amazons'. He cared little for his whelp, but supported her as long as she did not become a liability in any fashion.

As a guide, he would invite his clients to such an infamous place, citing its magical abilities. No matter what, they always fell in, and gained a curse for their gullibility. He would then have an excuse to take their money, remaining their guide for as long as he enjoyed the work, leading them through many false avenues in hopes for a non-existant cure. Yes, his scheme ran flawlessly, and beautifully. He could possibly be one of the richest men in the People's army, all thanks to gainging such an originally unwanted post.

"Are you prepared, Ranma." It wasn't a question, it was a demand.

Ranma looked at his father, understanding what was implied. He turned back to the springs, feigning an indifferent look, "This place isn't so impressive."

"Heh, you very strange one, no, sir?" the guide enquired, mirthful at the secret of the true horror he held from them, "This place very dangerous. No one use now." The boy would seal their fates, the guide was sure of it. He could smell the false bravado wafting from the foriegn garbage like the ripest of oders.

"Follow me, Ranma," Genma commanded, leaping to one of the bamboo poles.

"Sir, what you doing?" the guide enquired, feigning concern. When had first did this, his apathy was quite apparent, but after years of practice, he could even sound concerned for his 'dear customers'.

Both martial artists balanced poised on a pole, facing each other. "I won't go easy on you, Ranma."

'If there was ever a time,' Ranma thought, never knowing what 'ease' was, for his father despised any weakness in his son, almost as if his own life depended on it. "That's just the way I like it!"

"Please sir, very bad if you fall in spring!" The guide shouted, not that they would listen to him now. The beconing call of Jusenkyo was always louder.

With a warcry so fierce, it couldn't be mistaken for anything but the intentions of a deadly man, Genma leapt at his son, more than eager to prove his own superiority. Ranma met him in the air, already moving to counter his father automatically.

Ranma was surprised and terrified at the ease of which he sent his father into the pool below. He hid his fear, lest his punishment later be even more fierce for besting his father so cavalierely. "Pop?"

Below the surface of the water, emotions of outrage, embarrassment, and anger surged so strongly, the water began to bubble before the man who harbored them launched himself from the spring.

What launched from where he had sent his father, shocked Ranma into inaction, proving to be a great mistake, as he found himself flying away, as his chest was flaring painfully from the blow the black and white beast laid upon him. The sudden envelopment of cool water served to dull the pain somewhat, but Ranma knew he needed to clean the three slash marks that were definitely across his chest before they got too infected. He had learned long ago how to quickly heal himself; a necessity from training with his father, but that didn't mean he couldn't still scar.

Breaking the surface, Ranma opened his gi, intending to examine his wounds, before contending with the wild animal that had attacked him...