There will be: language, nudity, sex, violence, death, and rather detailed descriptions of such. I'm an adult, and a writer. I revel in the coincidence that I'm also an adult writer.
I only own what someone else does not.
–
Chapter Two
–
Pinya-pinya-pinpinpin-PON! Pinya-pin-
Ranma smacked a hand down on the noisome thing that awakened him out of reflex, blinking blearily at the morning sun that greeted him as it streamed in from a window near the western-style bed he was currently sprawled across. Never too swift on the uptake except in a combat sense so early in the day, the pigtailed martial artist simply stared at the unfamiliar room he found himself in, and the bird-shaped alarm clock squirming in his hand as it tried to continue its annoying greeting. His bemused expression melted away, as the events of the day before played out in his mind in a disjointed but passable kind of order.
"I have class in two hours," came first, prompting the young man to switch off his frantically flailing alarm, before stretching like a cat with a cavernous yawn. Hopping to his feet, Ranma reached behind his back, pulling a few small slips of paper and a brush set from his personal ki-space. He was nothing like Mu Tsu with his mastery of the technique, but could manage something akin to a camping pack if pressed, though preferred to keep it to necessities and emergency items – like thermoses, brushes and ink, ofuda paper for various seals and practice, and maybe a change of clothes.
Scribbling out a trio of hasty seals while yawning, Ranma set them each aside to dry as he made his bed, and found a change of clothes from the shopping he'd done the day before. Eying the plain white cotton bra and panties included in the mix, he blinked, sniffed, and shrugged. "Least I don't gotta worry 'bout water accidents," he muttered, taking up the ofuda with the marking for 'wasp' on its face, waving it in the air to dry quicker.
Clearing a space on the floor, Ranma settled himself in seiza, kneeling on a pillow with the the ofuda before him. Centering his ki, the martial artist briefly wondered if his father ever thought training in onmyōdō was as pointless as the other things he usually disparaged – like reading, writing, and education in general. Dismissing those thoughts with an irritated sniff, Ranma focused on his task. He had no desire to linger on history that no longer concerned him.
Though a quick study, Ranma was nowhere near the level his brief teacher Goemon had been at sealcraft and onmyōdō. The eclectic old monk could focus and incant his mantras with little preparation or need for materials, while he still needed the most basic supplies, and a much greater amount of time and focus to do similar things. One such difference was the need for mudras – hand posture signs – of the Kuji-in, rather than the sharp, abbreviated motions used by the Kuji-kiri the monk had assured him he'd pick up in time. Ranma didn't focus on his need to practice and perfect this new Art, as he breathed ki into the needed mantra. Rather than rush, his hands flowed from each posture in slow, precise order. Each was followed by the syllable it represented, a breath for each, given a full measure of his own ki. "Zai. Pyō. Jin. Rin. Wake up, Suzumebachi."
The ofuda before him shivered, then began to unfold out from the center like inverted origami. Ranma continued to focus, keeping his mind locked on the task at hand, rather than wondering at the leaps and bounds he'd taken in learning this new Art from the eclectic Master, and how much further he had yet to before he could even be considered 'competent'.
With a final shudder and shift, the small ball of paper unfurled into the form of a tiny female figure wearing a yellow hakui – a kimono-esque robe – with a black and gold accented suikan – a jacket with squared shoulders and wide, draped sleeves – and hakama, also trimmed in gold and earthy brown. Her black hair was unbound and fell below her shoulders, though long bangs covered her eyes, while behind her a pair of hornet's wings twitched. The tiny figure almost looked like a fairy, if not for the rather grumpy expression, tense posture, and wickedly sharp stiletto clenched in her tiny fist. "Master waited a long time to call me again..." the tiny figure finally grumbled, hiding her little weapon in the folds of her traditionally cut clothing.
Ranma chuckled quietly, running a finger over the hand-sized girl's head, causing her to flail half-heartedly at him. The miniature's blush betrayed her, as he knew it would. "Awe, my little Bee isn't happy to see me?"
Suzumebachi huffed, before flitting up to sit on his shoulder. "Master needs Suzu to sting someone...?" She asked with hope clear in her voice.
Shaking his head, the young man stood and stretched again, nearly unseating his small passenger. "No, not today," he replied, wondering again how he ended up with such a bloodthirsty little Shikigami. Loyal, though, he had to admit. "We're in a new place, and I'm not familiar with it. I want you to scout around this building, then as far out as you can in a spiral till you get tired."
The summoned girl nodded, before perking up. "Can Suzu have an apple...?"
"There's one on the table-" Ranma paused, as his passenger disappeared in a blur, knocking the offered fruit off the distant surface with a small yell of victory, followed by the sounds of the mentioned apple's likely messy demise. Chuckling to himself, Ranma spent a few minutes winding his mala around his wrist, before using one of the morning's remaining ofuda seals to cancel the one from last night that let him rest without the beads against his skin, or having to shift into his female form to accommodate the wings that would stabilize the wildly potent ki he wielded. The last paper charm he sat beside the door, for when he left later.
"...need to find a place to do katas..."
The shower as expected triggered the shift into a young woman, and again Ranma stretched, this time working her hair out of its tight braid, carefully placing the Dragon's Whisker on the nearby sink. As she washed, Ranma ran over another point that was made yesterday, "So, I'm supposed to talk to that Takahata guy about getting some control on my ki, and some little girl named Evangeline about my magic." Frowning, the martial artist rinsed the scentless shampoo she preferred from her hair and skin, taking up a shaving razor. "Wonder why old man Konoe insisted I keep an open mind about the girl... eh. Figure it out later." Pushing such concerns to the side for a moment, she went about finishing her grooming, thinking little about the process after so much time spent female in the last few years.
Finishing her shower, Ranma inspected herself in the mirror briefly, before favoring the image with a slight nod as if affirming the person there actually was herself. In a very real way, that was precisely what she was doing. Sometimes it seemed surreal that this was actually her life... bearing a transformation that would completely remake her body, stealing away who Ranma had been most of her – in this case, his – life in an instant. However, with that change came freedom too. As a male, she was bound by honor and a number of other commitments, things her female form lacked. Oh, she was sure Genma would take advantage of the situation if he could, but his usual route was cut off. Who would believe him, saying his son had suddenly become a girl, from a legal standpoint? Personal limits also applied, and the old bastard knew well enough that Ranma wouldn't tolerate a new set of male suitors. A round of violence even Genma had to appreciate had resulted in the hint of that, the one time it happened. Regard for lasting, permanent damage had been thrown out the window, as Ranma gave her typically thoughtless father something to fill his mind with.
As for legality, the previous engagements had that advantage in many ways, with Ukyo's being a sort of common-law arrangement involving a promise and exchange of goods and dowry, while the Tendo agreement was actually on paper... if somewhat illegible and up for interpretation, due to the drunken rambling it did. Though she had those that were interested and pursued her as a young woman, no one had an actual claim. Until recently the idea of using that transformation as an advantage hadn't been an option, what with the Pact her mother held, her home being the Tendo Dojo, and a lingering hope for a cure. True, she had sought one for years, but now... much as she'd explained to the Dean, it would just seem strange to not have her curse anymore. It had become a part of who she was.
With her lips in a tight line, the redhead pulled her underwear on, only somewhat annoyed by the necessity – slightly too frilly for her tastes – but more irritated that she had to wear a skirt as the Mahou Academy regulations demanded. That faded as she recalled that the branch of Mahora she was attending was a girl's school. "At least there's that," she noted to herself in the mirror. "No idiot perverts to make a fuss, and no maniac tomboys to overreact. No Amazons. No love-sick best friends."
Her eyes focused on the sorrowful expression she was sporting, replacing it with one of muted anger and determination. "Not that I need them. They decided they didn't want the freak around anymore once the curse started acting up. Well, good for me, I don't need those kinds of friends," she declared with some heat, before brushing the topic aside. She had preparing to finish.
Ranma eyed the tiny selection of make-up she'd grudgingly collected over the last two years, consisting entirely of a single shade of eyeshadow, some neutral lip gloss, and a base that she found kept her often-sported embarrassed blushing mostly muted. Anything beyond this had been disposed of as the situation that demanded it passed, as for the longest time, Ranma held her cursed form as just that – a curse, rather than simply part of who she was now. With a sigh, she went about the process of applying the lot, knowing she should make a good impression on her first day. She could start going without later, once she was settled in. Lastly, she rebound her hair in its braid, tying it off with the Dragon's Whisker.
Ranma smirked at her image in the mirror, as she settled the tie around her neck and under the collar of her white dress shirt, rather than the rather silly bow that was an option. Long sleeves she had found at Furinkan, were an unstated rule. Scars garnered too many curious looks, and too much attention.
"Hmm, beginning of term," she mused, looking at the uniform guide that came with her clothes. It had been a while since she'd worn a school uniform, and never a girl's one, so she picked up the small brochure at the shop that supplied the clothes so she'd not make too many mistakes. There were allowances for length and drape of skirts, how much accessorizing could be done, what wasn't proper and what was. Most she didn't need to worry about. Ranma had always been spartan in almost all aspects of her life. Seeing that it was still considered a warm weather period, she grabbed the almost-maroon vest, settling it over the brighter red plaid skirt. The blazer jacket would be for colder times of the year, so for now she put it in the closet.
Stepping out of her room, she tested the range of motion for the clothes, sniffing slightly in annoyance. She'd have to do something about the vest and shirts, and likely the jacket too, or she'd rip the back out of them every time she got in a fight. That thought caused Ranma to pause for a moment, before shrugging. "Eh, it'll happen anyway," she mused, knowing her luck. She'd never had been able to go long without some kind of confrontation. Likely Mahora would be no different.
She made a brief breakfast, consisting of rice and miso soup, as she'd not had a chance to do much real shopping, nor did she have the money for it. Sounds of Suzumebachi still enjoying her apple kept her company, her apple not quite finished yet. She was a very tiny girl, after all.
Though she'd 'enrolled' too late to get an on-campus dorm, the off-campus housing may as well have been part of them, being nearly the same distance from the Academy proper. They were larger, however, and made to house two people, which the old man had warned may become a reality as time wore on. Dean Konoe had offered her the option of working for the school as something of a contract security agent, in exchange for room and board at the off-campus apartments. The position would account for the cost of her living arrangements, though he did point out that she'd likely need an official job as well, if she wanted any luxuries or spending cash. The idea of making money without Nabiki there to bleed her dry or Genma to steal it when she wasn't looking appealed to her more than she'd expected.
Ranma decided that sometime early that week, she'd find something to do, in that vein. "Shouldn't be too hard," the redhead noted, staring at her reflection in a mirror as she settled her skirt and the vest over her shirt. Favoring the image there with a bright smile and a little bounce, she snickered. "Yep, still got it."
Noting the time, she grabbed her school bag. "Suzu! I'm heading out!"
"Mistress?" The little Shikigami sped to her shoulder, prodding the redhead's braid lightly. "If Suzu does not get tired, can she come find Mistress?"
Ranma pursed her lips slightly, before shrugging. Likely, the little spirit would get bored of scouting around after a while, and the apple would be more than enough energy for her, for a day. "Sure. Just stay out of sight if you can. These people can probably see you."
The little figure gave a slight chirp. "Suzu is fast. Stupid people won't see Suzu."
"Be careful anyway," the martial artist insisted, letting the two of them out with the last ofuda in her hand. Stretching out her ki, she found no one nearby to witness her small ritual.
Holding the slip between her fingers, she deftly sped through the mudras to set the ofuda. Unlike her Shikigami's summoning, where she had to concentrate and focus to call the proper spirit to her seal, this was a much more rote situation. Messing up here wouldn't cost her anything. "Tō. Rin. Retsu. The Oni's den, secured." With a sound like a distant and low gong booming, she slapped the ofuda on her door, where it sizzled for a moment then faded from view.
Suzumebachi raised a tiny brow behind her bangs. "Mistress setting traps for stupid ones?"
Ranma snorted a quiet laugh. "If someone's stupid enough to try to break into my first apartment, then they deserve it." Reaching up, she mussed the tiny girl's hair, getting a muttered squawk in reply. "Off with you, little Bee."
As Suzu disappeared in a tiny whirring blur, Ranma considered the necessity of her last preparation for the day ahead. Dean Konoe had asked that she keep as low a profile as possible, which meant totally sealing her ki as opposed to leaving herself with the last loop of her beaded seal unset. With the full string of one-hundred and eight seals left incomplete, she still had nearly the ki available to her that she'd started with, before moving to Nerima. Ranma was less inclined to fully seal herself, as she had no idea what to expect from Mahora Academy, but sighed and relegated herself to a mostly ki-starved day. "I can go one day without it," she declared, looping the final stretch of her mala back around her wrist, completing the double-cross pattern on both the back of her hand and palm. "I'm a martial artist. I don't need ki. It's just another tool."
Despite the confidence in her statement, Ranma couldn't help feeling somewhat naked, without that wellspring of power thrumming inside her.
–
Ranma figured she was lucky, having found a seat on the train rather than having to stand. Not that she really cared too much either way, but despite her best efforts, first-day jitters were getting to her. Maybe it was the number of other girls around – and the fact that almost all of them were pretty – or the fact she was running on less ki than she'd had since... well ever, but she just couldn't shake the nearly electric sense of expectation and anxiety running through her.
She almost laughed at herself, realizing she was excited about her first day as a third-year junior high-school student. Sure, she was playing down her age at Dean Konoe's request, but with her shorter stature and arguably lousy grades, such a deception wasn't wholly unbelievable. Besides, with as muddled and messed up as her records were with all the moving and traveling, it was only by the insane Principal Kuno's oversight she managed to attend Furinkan at all in the first place. At least at Mahora, she had something like a real reason to attend and make an effort. Konoemon had agreed that her records would be available to transfer to Ranma's male form, from the boy's campus at the school, if she did favorably. He also pointed out that she could maintain her records as a female as well – such a thing would offer a grounding point. People she knew, and who knew her, and a network of sorts. The idea was somewhat foreign, but she understood it well enough after some thought.
The option wasn't a bad one... but damn it all, she wasn't a woman. Ranma sighed, realizing how fragile that claim was becoming. Unless she could reverse Jusendo's work on her, then likely the martial artist would spend the bulk of her future as a woman. While this didn't disturb her as much as it used to, those degrees of magnitude didn't alter the fact Ranma would prefer less bias against her male form.
Thinking back on the school she was approaching again, now for a wholly different reason, Ranma's melancholy evaporated. It was replaced by determination, tinged with hope. Maybe she could prove those back in Nerima wrong, by doing well. Maybe all she needed was a chance to actually learn and focus without something strange and weird-
Ranma's bangs blew back away from her face as a sudden wind lashed through the train car, and she was suddenly very grateful for having found a seat, rather than having to stand. Not because she was worried about having her skirt flipped up – she was still working on that female modesty thing, after all – but because her position gave her the perfect view.
A silly grin on her face, Ranma chuckled. "Teal stripes." After a moment, Ranma blinked, before her grin turned into a smile. No mallet. No Amazon counterattack-death-grip. No spatula to the head.
"This is gonna be awesome."
–
"So... you're saying my teacher is a little ten year old brat?"
Shizuna winced, but hardened her expression slightly. "Yes. And he's trying his hardest, with the Dean's full support."
Ranma waved away the woman's concerns, "Don't worry about it. Won't be the first time I've had a kid teaching a class... though." The redhead tapped her chin with a finger as they walked down the hall toward Ranma's new homeroom, "...he isn't some kind of ki-vampire is he? I was kind of looking forward to not dealing with one of those again."
The counselor boggled for a moment, before snapping her jaw back into place. "Ki vampire? What kind of teachers did they hire at Furinkan?"
"Eh, Hinako-chan wasn't so bad, and it wasn't really her fault," Ranma soothed, trying to gloss over her error. "I mean, really, she only used it to calm people down!"
Shizuna just shook her head hard. Dealing with Ranma was either going to vastly broaden her mind, or warp it so out of shape she'd fit into the gender-optional girl's world view. At this point, the blonde counselor was debating the pros and cons of each, trying to lay odds on which way the dice would fall. "...regardless, I think Negi-kun will be a welcome change to what you're expecting."
Ranma shrugged noncommittally. "We'll see."
"3-A will be your homeroom and class," the blonde stated, as she neared the door. The wall of windows that faced the hallway allowed Ranma to look inside the classroom, and observe the well-maintained chaos that seemed quite normal by the look on her guide's face. Not sure what to make of that, she slipped into the obscured portion of the doorway, while Shizuna announced her.
"Negi-kun? My, what a lively group this morning."
The young mage's head snapped around so fast it nearly upset his glasses. "Oh! Minamoto-san. Er, we were just getting ready to start the day's lesson, and-"
Shizuna smiled, "Oh, good! Then I'm not too late. You have a new student this term."
Negi blinked, before returning her smile. "Ah, right. Um, send them in?"
Turning to her side, Shizuna beckoned the redhead forward. "Alright, Saotome-san," she paused, seeing Ranma's wince. "Ah... sorry. They're ready for you, and could you give this note to Negi-kun, before you take a seat?"
"Sure," the redhead agreed, walking before the rather large class till she stood in front of the chalkboard. Ranma hesitated as she picked up the chalk, before mentally shrugging. "Close one door," she murmured quietly, "open another."
Class 3-A watched as the petite redhead scratched her name on the board, some blinking in slight bemusement as they turned to the other resident Saotome, though it appeared they weren't related based on the new girl's spelling of her name. Turning to face them, Ranma offered the girls a wry smirk. "Yep. 'Rioting demon'. My mother got a little strange when she found out I had red hair," she offered in response to the kanji she'd used for her given name. Though it wasn't an outright lie, it was also firmly rooted in truth. Nodoka's reaction to the change had definitely qualified as strange.
"Anyway, name's Saotome Ranma, though I prefer just Ranma and will insist till you see it my way," she quipped, getting a few grins in reply. "I don't really go in for formality much. I recently got back from a trip abroad, I like ice cream and martial arts. Pleased to meet you."
Nearly as amused as his class, Negi welcomed the new girl, as 3-A called out greetings. "Welcome to Mahora, Ranma-san. Lets see if we can find a seat for you," the diminutive teacher muttered, going over the roster and seating chart. While he did that, Ranma placed the note she'd been given on his desk.
"Hmm, there's... seat one, but that note," Negi looked to the mentioned seat, furrowing his brow. Ranma followed his gaze, blinking at the nervous figure she noted... floating in the desk. Deciding to play the presence of a ghost in the classroom by ear, she said nothing for the moment.
"Maybe I could have you sit next to McDowell-sa-" The young teacher froze as a chill ran up his spine. With no small hesitation, he looked up to meet the stony expression of the blonde foreigner in question. "Er, that is..."
A rapid series of thoughts shuffled through the redhead's mind at the name. For one, she knew that an Evangeline McDowell had been named as the Dean's suggestion for seeking out assistance directly with learning about magic, and possibly cures for various things. The Dean himself would also be working on such, but as he said, any help would only add to her chances.
The problem of course was that said girl was a mage. Despite Konoemon's words, assurances, and glowing opinion, Ranma still couldn't bring herself to do anything but regard the stuff with hatred and disdain. The idea of sharing much of her day beside one who willingly tainted themselves with magic galled her badly, but as long as she was working for the Dean and attending Mahora, it had been made clear that her prejudice would need to be kept muted.
"Prejudice my cute little ass," she muttered, missing the confused look her comment got her from class 3-A's sensei. Nodding, Ranma smiled winningly as she gathered her bag. "Sure, beside Eva-san. That'll do."
Negi winced, getting a bad feeling suddenly. "Ah, Ranma-san..."
Walking down the row, the martial artist noted the people she passed with mild interest, not paying most of them much of her full attention. Oddly, she picked out at least half a dozen that could be martial artists themselves... if far below her level. Circling around the moody young girl who looked to be the same age as the teacher, Ranma took her seat at the double desk. "Sorry to intrude," she offered airily, settling in the chair with a sigh. Her companion replied with a quiet huff, which got the attention of the strange girl ahead of the pigtailed teen, who turned her head to offer the blonde an impassive look.
It wasn't the odd metal... things sticking out from either side of her head that got Ranma's attention, so much as the utter lack of ki, or at least, the kind she was used to coming from a person. Ranma was quickly reassessing her view that Mahora was a place she'd be able to do much in the way of catching up with her studies. "I wonder if Pop picked up some kind of other curse while we were traveling. One of those interesting times things," she mused to herself as she settled her bookbag and prepared for class.
Ranma counted off the points in her mind. So far – her teacher wasn't even old enough for his voice to change, her desk-mate who was also supposed to be a contact seemed to find her presence annoying, the girl in front of her was either dead or a robot, there was a resident ghost, there were a handful of martial artists that practiced enough to register against her sense of ki, and if she wasn't mistaken, at least two people in the room had no small talent with magic. And was that gunpowder she smelled?
Recalling something she'd said on entering Mahora the day before, Ranma slumped in her seat. "...it really is a magical girl training school. Great. Just... great."
A girl with glasses in the back of the middle row suddenly had the urge to give the new girl a welcome basket.
Noise from the front of the class drew Ranma's attention. "Ah, a note from Minamoto-san..." Negi seemed to grow flustered and bemused, before announcing to the class at large, "Oh! It seems today is health checkup day, ah, er... Everyone, please prepare to take off your clothes!"
Ranma ignored the general madness around herself that resulted from that declaration, to better apply her forehead to her desk in protest to the direction her life seemed to be taking.
–
One of the things Ranma never got much exposure to, despite her often variable gender, were situations much like the one she found herself in on her first day of class. Thirty young women in various states of undress tended to do rather unhealthy things to her blood pressure, considering that though she was currently in an equally female body, her mind was still that of a seventeen year-old male. Due to her curse being outed at Furinkan early on, she never had the opportunity or need to use the girl's locker rooms, not that she'd likely have put herself in such a situation willingly. Despite Akane's claims, Ranma wasn't a pervert, in no small part due to having the same sorts of things Akane was so against turned against her as well. Most of her exposure to the female body was from Xian Pu – other than her own – and was marred by the fact the same girl spent the first few months of their association trying to assassinate the redhead at every turn. To say she couldn't quite get past that would be understatement.
Despite that, however, Ranma had a very healthy appreciation for the female form.
Which was going to get her into trouble, since everyone was looking at her, so looking anywhere that wasn't neutral ground would be really obvious and likely get her pounded.
"Ok, Ranma-san, come over," one of the girls who had been standing by the scale called. The classroom had been converted slightly, with curtains pulled across the hallway windows, some few supplies needed for the exams rolled in, and a divider put in place if needed. Obviously, their underage teacher had been locked out, though Ranma had to wonder at the teasing comments the child educator got from some of her classmates.
"Eh?" Ranma, though confused, came up to the other student. "Ah, aren't we supposed to wait for a teacher, or nurse...?"
The blonde – another one? – with her hair up in short, spiky tails, regarded her curiously before beaming a smile. "Oh! Ako-chan, Ranma-san doesn't know about how we do things here. Want to explain while I get her started?"
The redhead was ushered up onto a scale while the blonde started shifting the weights, and the pale-haired Ako did so. "Well, you see, we all have other jobs we tend to do for the class," she pointed out quietly while scribbling a few things on a chart.
As Ako noted various things on her record, Ranma put the pieces together, smiling slightly. "So, you're the class nurse?"
Ako nodded shyly. "I'm also an assistant to the Academy nurse, but for the most part, yes," the soft-spoken girl agreed. "Some of the others in the athletic clubs, like Sakurako-san, help me out when we have things like this to do."
"Fifty-seven point six kilograms, Ako-chan," the blonde – Sakurako – announced with a lilt.
Ako smiled softly, while nodding and noting the measure, "Ah, Negi-sensei wanted us to work on our English measurements while we did this. Can you convert that into pounds for me, Ranma-san?"
Never being a huge math fan, Ranma took a moment to work the number out in her head, as Sakurako moved her to the height measurement next. "About... one-hundred and twenty-seven pounds?"
"Hmm," the pale girl nibbled on the end of her pencil pensively, as the blonde announced "One-hundred fifty six centimeters," and Ranma converted it to 5'1". "Are you planning on joining any athletic clubs, Ranma-san?"
The martial artist knew where the shy girl was coming from and grinned. "I work out a lot, and have a lot of muscle density." She held out her arm, tensing it. A few of the students looked on in curiosity as the new girl's muscle tone was revealed. "I may, I dunno."
Ako seemed relieved. She didn't want to make an impression on the new student's first day, by telling her she was slightly overweight and then counsel her on fitness plans. With her degree of muscle tone, however, her height vs. weight made sense, muscle being denser and heavier than other tissue. "That's great, and explains things then."
"Eighty-eight centimeters!"
Ranma's eye twitched as she noted where the blonde was measuring that time, having been distracted by Ako's question. "...is this part of the standard exam?"
The blonde stuck her tongue out impishly as she released the measure from around Ranma's breasts, "We have to know where we stand compared to the new girl!"
"Izumi Ako, please report to the nurses office..." came the announcement over the intercom.
"Ah, Sakurako-chan, can you take over for..."
Shaking her head in mild exasperation, Ranma moved back into the class, though her lips quirked with a slight smile at some of the looks she was getting at Sakurako's announcement of her measurements. Pulling her uniform back on, she chuckled to herself. "Yep, definitely still got it."
"...rumor about a vampire at Sakura Lane, right?"
Her ears perked, and Ranma paused in putting her vest back on as she listened in as her classmates chattered on about vampires and blood-sucking monsters, and how one of their friends, Makie, actually did look kind of tasty. Ranma blinked at that, giving the girl who said it a long look.
"You people," the girl with the light-auburn hair, settled into a pair of ponytails by ties sporting little bells admonished. "There's no way a rumor like that could be true. Now, stop talking about stupid things and get back in line so we can finish the checkup!"
Sakurako countered the pony-tailed girl's statement slyly, "Eh, even though you say that, Asuna-san, aren't you a little afraid too?"
While Ranma's attention had been on the new girl to speak, the one before – long dark hair past her shoulders, an easy smile, and cute bangs, who made the comment about her classmate looking tasty – had moved to the board to make a rough sketch of some kind of fish monster or something. Head tilted to the side, Ranma commented on the girl's work, "...Is that a Chupacabra...?"
"Yes!" The dark-haired girl agreed. "I saw a documentary on them once."
"Huh. Good likeness."
"There's no way something like that could exist in Japan!" Asuna declared hotly, before seeming to lose steam in her argument at some thought.
Ranma was trying to catalog all these new faces with their respective names, when a new voice chimed quietly over the noise, "That's right, isn't it Kagurazaka Asuna? You should be careful, after all. The rumors say that the vampire loves the blood of youthful, energetic girls like you." Finding the speaker, the martial artist noted that it was her deskmate that had spoken, filing away a comment from the other blonde about how 'Eva' hardly ever seemed inclined to speak with anyone. Once again Ranma wondered how she was going to broach the topic she had been advised to approach the young girl about – and if maybe the Dean had lost his marbles. How could she possibly learn anything about magic from a ten year-old girl? For that matter, what was with this trend? First Hinako, then this Negi Springfield character, and now a pint-sized witch?
"Sensei!" The entire class jolted at the sudden, panicked call from Ako out in the hall. "Makie's in the infirmary!"
–
"What? Found sleeping in the middle of the road?"
Shizuna nodded at Ranma's blurted question. "Well, not precisely, but close enough. Sakura Lane is a walking path around campus. It runs between the Academy library and the nearest dorms, so there's a lot of foot traffic, usually. At least until late at night. Most avoid it because of the bad lighting, then."
"Oh," Ranma muttered, her anxiety diffusing quickly as the image of the young girl being passed-out in the middle of a highway was banished. "But still, that's just odd," she thought to herself, as her classmates offered one strange explanation after another. However, it was clear that everyone was thinking the same thing, after the morning's excitement. Makie was found at Sakura Lane... the same place the rumored vampire was supposed to show up. Ranma was about to comment on that, when she noted the strange looks that a few of her classmates were sporting.
The girl Asuna looked like she was chewing on a very sour lemon. Clearly something about this situation either bothered her greatly, or she had some theory about it. Ranma wrote it off as more likely that she was a friend of the girl laying asleep in the infirmary bed, and let it go.
Eva McDowell on the opposite side of things, was to be found leaning against the wall near the infirmary door near the green-haired girl from the desk ahead of herself, with a bored look about her. Even after spending just a small while around class 3-A, Ranma found her behavior odd. Though there were a few people who didn't talk much, or seemed somewhat antisocial, the class in general had a close-knit feel about it. These two, however, seemed to not care about the sleeping girl at all. Something about their attitude galled the redhead. Even if it had been Taro, or even Herb in the hospital, she'd have been there wondering about them. This utter apathy just seemed wrong to her.
It was their teacher that pulled Ranma's attention from Eva, with his fiercely contemplative look and intense stare at the bedridden Makie Sasaki. Though she was used to dealing with intense teachers in the past, Ranma hadn't seen the kind of focus Negi was leveling at the young girl even from Hinako on her most determined anti-delinquent rampages. To someone like her who was used to analyzing people and situations, it was clear that Negi knew something about what was going on. Confirming he suspicion, the diminutive teacher seemed so lost in his own thoughts that he missed Asuna trying to get his attention a handful of times.
The problem with her thinking of course, was the fact that the person who seemed most in-the-know at moment happened to be a ten year-old brat of a teacher. Staying a respectful but observant distance away, Ranma listened in as the two talked, only reacting with a smirk when Negi announced he'd be home late that night. She schooled her own expression, until Negi announced that the class would return to their room shortly.
She trailed behind the rest of the students, supposedly taking in the sights of the halls, while the other girls were preoccupied with worrying about Makie Sasaki. As she walked back to 3-A, the redhead folded her hands behind her head. "Maa, maa... not very subtle, is he...?"
"The same could be said about others as well, Mister Saotome," a familiar voice countered from just behind Ranma in English.
She didn't react to her surprise, though Ranma did tilt her head back and around to peer at the short blonde behind her from the corner of her eye. "See, I distinctly remember telling everyone to call me Ranma, Miss McDowell," she replied in kind.
The short blonde behind her didn't quite smile. "Oho. I didn't expect your English to be as good as that, according to your records," Eva replied, walking beside the same stoic girl that had stayed by her side in the infirmary. "I wonder if you have other surprises just waiting to be discovered..."
"Considering how you addressed me as 'Mister' just now, I'd have to say you've got me at a disadvantage in that regard," the redhead countered in a quiet voice, dropping her arms so her hands hung loosely at her sides.
Eva's expression couldn't quite be called a grin, though there was open amusement there. "Well, I wouldn't want to appear rude. Let me make it up to you, then. I'll meet you at Starbooks Coffee this afternoon around...?"
"Six will do."
"Perfectly fine," Eva graciously allowed. "If I'm unable to attend for whatever reason, Chachamaru here will be there to relay my apologies and help reschedule," the shorter girl continued airily.
Ranma allowed a wry smile to bend her lips, as the two stoic girls made their way past and up to the rest of the class. "Curiouser and curiouser," she quoted, again in English, before shrugging with a quiet laugh to follow their example.
–
The remainder of Ranma's first day went by, and she was at once reassured and disappointed that it did so in a fashion she was familiar with.
It was boring.
True, the girls of Mahora Academy class 3-A managed to keep things more interesting than she had expected them to, with their odd squabbles and surprisingly diverse skills... but school was school, and Ranma found herself losing focus quickly despite them. It seemed that the administrators of Mahora expected that kind of reaction and planned for it, giving their students breaks and interspersing activities into the day to keep boredom from creeping in. It worked for the most part, and Ranma was grateful for that, particularly during math class.
Oddly enough, her deskmate Evangeline proved to be a consistent source of interest, as she blazed through almost all the given assignments in a fraction of the time most needed – except for Negi's particular class, that being English. Most of that period, Eva spent staring pointedly at the young teacher, defying common biology Ranma was fairly certain by blinking perhaps once every fifteen minutes. She certainly had no great need for that class, Ranma admitted, recalling their conversation after the short side-trip to the infirmary that morning. Not that she herself did either, as it turned out, thanks to Hinako's tutoring the previous year.
Lunch time came and with it her Shikigami, Suzumebachi, who had managed to scout and familiarize herself with the area a few blocks in distant in a wide circle from Ranma's apartment, as well as the route from it to Mahora. This resorted in a very sleepy but accomplished tiny girl, who half shifted without another word outside of her brief report into the form of an origami bee to rest. Ranma took up the fragile slip of paper and settled it in her hair above her ear with a barrette. With her ki sealed up, the exhausted Shikigami wouldn't recharge nearly as quickly, and was unlikely to awaken before her limited summoning contract had expired. Ranma figured she would be safe that way, though she considered dismissing her to gain the spirit's memories sooner. That urge was compounded as she also didn't like calling the tiny girl away from her home for so long, just to do her chores, though her paranoia wouldn't let her do much else. In this case it was either Suzu doing so while she was in class, or do so herself over the course of that night instead of sleeping.
Ranma carefully avoided anyone with an apple regardless of her Shikigami's apparent state of unconsciousness over their lunch period. The tiny girl had been known to stab first and ask permission later when it came to her favored snack, and a groggy Suzu – though cute – was deadly.
Classes ended and evening came without incident, and after a few inquiries, Ranma made her way to the coffee shop Eva had indicated. Although she had half expected the younger girl to have found a way to avoid the meeting, Eva and the odd girl named Chachamaru were present, apparently enjoying the afternoon on the open deck the shop offered. "Well, this looks cozy," the martial artist offered with a grin as she took a seat across from the blonde.
"Indeed," Eva replied, taking a long sip of her drink. "Though, I can't linger long to chat. I have an outstanding engagement this afternoon I'd rather not miss."
Ranma flagged down a waitress, ordering a tea. "Then I won't keep you long," she offered, leaning back in the deck chair. "Old man Konoe said I should talk to you about my problems with magic."
Evangeline heaved a sigh, rubbing at her temple idly. "...and this is why the youth of today are sent to schools for this kind of thing."
Snorting indelicately, Ranma leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. "Look, I know that Mahora's more than it appears," she challenged with half-lidded eyes. "I'm not up for dancing around the issue for days or weeks till someone decides it's time to show off and make an entrance." The waitress approached, and Ranma offered her a smile, as she delivered the redhead's tea. After testing and humming appreciably at the brew, she continued in a less confrontational tone. "Konoe talked to me, and sent me to you. I'll wager if I asked, he'll say something along the lines that he'd already told you to expect me."
"It may have come up..."
"Now, I'm not quite as dumb as I play at," Ranma went on, smiling at a passing student who caught her eye. "Call it a martial arts thing – I prefer to be underestimated by potential opponents."
Eva stilled in her chair, while Chachamaru's full attention came to rest on the redhead sipping her tea. "So, does that make me a 'potential opponent'?"
Ranma shrugged. "Dunno. Gonna cut the bullshit?"
Eva couldn't help but bark a laugh at the audacious redhead. "My, my. What a crass and uncultured one you are," she noted with a sly grin. "But, I can't help but find that endearing, even if you don't know what you're getting into." Turning to her stoic companion, the small blonde girl's demeanor shifted slightly, softening. "Chachamaru, a white-noise field, if you would?"
The green-haired girl's 'ears' shifted slightly, and a slight pressure seemed to press in on Ranma's own. "Done, mistress."
"Excellent, now we can speak freely," Eva explained to the curious redhead. "Despite what you think, Mahora is not openly a school for the unusual. Secrecy is something of a rule in this case. It does however have a large population of those who are in the know, as it is. Chief among them of course is the Dean himself, whom you've met."
Ranma nodded. "Decent guy, seems like the sort that likes to meddle though."
Eva smiled. "That he does, certainly. Which is why I tell you now – think carefully about any deals or offers he makes you. Though I've always known him to be fair, he isn't just a man, he's also his station. I have read the records, if scattered, of your time in Nerima. Don't you think it just slightly curious that he would so readily let such a potentially disruptive influence come not only to his school, but also attend classes with his very granddaughter?"
That did seem strange to Ranma, but she was also used to how common coincidences seemed to flock to her. "So your saying he's got some kind of ulterior motive, involving me?"
"He may, he may not," Eva admitted. "I simply would advise caution. Mages are by nature secretive and conniving to varying degrees. But, back to why one shouldn't speak so openly of magic... there are rules in place, and those that enforce them. The various regional Magic Associations are for the most part responsible for their members and the registration and oversight of those who are not within their directories," the diminutive blonde explained, while stirring her coffee. "As you may have guessed, revealing the existence of magic wantonly to random people, being careless with artifacts, or behaving in such a way that it endangers such secrecy is frowned on. There are numerous penalties, including being turned into an ermine for a period of time."
"Ermine?"
"A weasel-like animal commonly hunted or farmed for its fur," Chachamaru chimed in.
Ranma raised a brow, sipping her tea. "Kinda harsh."
"To a mage, there is nothing quite as terrible as having their magic – or worse, their will to use it freely – taken from them. General awareness of magic would lead to nearly every mage in existence being picked out and for all intents and purposes, killed, dissected, or caged and used by whichever power could do so first. The punishments for those that break the rules give them a taste of that loss, as an educational experience."
Tapping a spoon against the side of her cup, Ranma frowned. "So, you're saying that he set me up for a fall? Somehow I don't see that."
Eva shook her head. "No, not at all. But this is what he sent you to me for. To learn. To understand what it is you're dabbling with and getting into. Magic is more than fancy words, strange lights, and gratifying results. There is an entire culture to it, and like most cultures, they have those that police their own. That is one of the first lessons most are taught – be subtle, and don't make waves."
"But," Eva commented, her head tilted to the side, "I am unsure how precisely this relates to you. Konoemon spoke as if you had at least passing potential for the mage arts, yet all I can sense is a spark. Barely worth notice."
Ranma regarded the blonde before her blandly. "If you looked up my records, you know I change forms. The other one has the potential, according to the old man."
Evangeline stared, before taking another long drink of her coffee. "I wonder if it has anything to do with... yes, most likely, considering how natural energies already separate... mm, fascinating."
"Oi, shorty, I'm still here, y'know."
The atmosphere, previously quite cozy if somewhat tense at points, suddenly took a decidedly negative turn. "...what did you call me? Was it by chance that I was short? Small perhaps?" The blonde was suddenly standing on her chair, her hands slapping down on the table with her face inches from Ranma's own. "Maybe that I was tiny, like a bean?"
Ranma slowly turned her head, so she faced Chachamaru. "...she's a little touchy about that, isn't she?"
"Mistress has her moments," was all the strange girl offered in reply.
The martial artist palmed the blonde's forehead, pushing her back into her seat. "How about you explain what all that mumbling you were doing was about?"
Eva collected herself, coughing delicately into her fist. "I would, except I have that prior engagement to see to. We can schedule something soon, of course, Chachamaru will assist with that-"
"This have something to do with that Negi kid?"
Her mouth working silently for a moment, Eva sat back to regard the young woman before her intently. "I wonder what leap of logic you followed to reach that conclusion, or if there was an actual path of deduction involved."
Ranma smiled over her tea. "Like I said, I prefer to be underestimated. It wasn't too hard, really. I'm an outsider to 3-A, and so things that other people would be used to or discount because of familiarity I pick up on. When we were walking in the hall, I even mentioned it, if you recall."
Eva smiled slightly. "So you did. But what made you think I was involved?"
"Mostly in that you didn't react at all," Ranma explained as she left the cost for her tea under the edge of her empty cup. "Even the girls in class that seemed uninterested in the rumors or didn't react too much to the announcement that Makie was in the infirmary showed a little reaction. Classes stick together, after all. You guys have been in the same group for how long? At least two years now?
"But you and Chachamaru here didn't seem surprised or concerned at all," Ranma continued, standing as the others did so. "Asuna seemed upset, but then, she seems... energetic."
"Understatement," the blonde chimed in.
The three walked a little distance in silence, as the sky darkened above them. "So, basically it came down to confirmation. Negi already did his part, saying he'd be out late. Teacher he may be, but he's only got one class through the day, and sorry to sound a bit critical, but the kid needs to focus. No way he's got that much work with what I saw." Ranma smiled slightly at a memory, shaking her head. "Kid's got nothing on Ninomiya."
"You know the gymnastics's teacher?"
Ranma blinked owlishly. "I... think maybe we're talking about different people. Anyway, the timing was too convenient. This Makie girl supposedly gets attacked, Negi gets in a huff about it and decides to get home late doing something at the same time, and now you have an important appointment – after dark, on a school night. And you're what, ten?"
Eva's eye twitched madly for a moment. "Just for the record, you shouldn't judge things on appearances here at Mahora."
"Noted," Ranma replied with a shrug. "But, the observation stands.
"Besides, I got a note today from the Dean, telling me that I should pass along a message," pulling out a small slip of paper, the redhead began to read. "'Tell Miss McDowell that she has limited permission to test and assess young Mr. Springfield, and that my allowance for this and her previous acts resulting in no lasting harm, are contingent on aptly informing and instructing you – Ranma – of the things I discussed with her.' Not that I needed the hint, really."
Once Evangeline got her temper under control, she addressed the redhead who was still walking at her and Chachamaru's side. "Alright. I suppose that clears that up... but why are you following me?"
"Curiosity mostly. Since the Dean is letting you do whatever you're planning, I figure I may as well watch. You know. Make sure nothing gets out of hand," she replied in an airy fashion, waving a hand dismissively. "And besides, it falls within my job description."
That caused the younger girl to pause in her walk. "Oh? I wasn't aware you were hired for anything."
"You mean you didn't get the memo?" Ranma asked, flashing an irritating grin. Pulling a small wallet from somewhere on her person, she flipped it open, her grin widening as Eva's eyes did the same.
"'Mahora Special Security'? That damned brat, just because he's running this stupid school..." the blonde ranted quietly, her hands clenching angrily. "So. This afternoon was all staged."
Draping an arm across the shorter girl's shoulders, Ranma guided them back to the main walk, ignoring the fierce tenseness in the blonde's shoulders. "Nah, not really. I was curious, and wanted to get a feel for this person I was told was supposed to be my tutor. The old man really didn't ask me to get involved, and since I work on contract, if I go out of my way to do something on my own, I may even lose that." Shaking her head, the taller redhead ruffled Eva's hair. "Lets just say, I'm seeing what my teacher's got to show me."
The diminutive vampire's irritation drained away as Ranma explained herself, finally leaving her with an amused smirk in its place. "Is that so? Then, perhaps I'll make this into a practical demonstration!"
"Mistress..."
"Chachamaru, stay with Ranma," Evangeline ordered, as they strolled into a darkened byway. "Keep her out of sight... I'll meet up with you where we planned."
Though it looked like the stoic girl wanted to object, she nonetheless bowed and affirmed her instructions, "Yes, mistress."
Ranma whistled lowly as the young blonde hopped from bench to streetlight to roof, making a rapid path toward what most likely would end up being Sakura Lane. "She's got a bit of a flair for the dramatic, doesn't she?"
Chachamaru merely nodded quietly. "Come. There is a vantage that I will use to ensure things proceed correctly. You are welcome to accompany me." The green-haired girl seemed to assess her remaining companion for a moment. "Do you need assistance?"
Shaking her head, Ranma released the first loop of her mala, feeling her ki respond like sluggish water for a moment, before surging against her like a dammed ocean. "Nah... I'm good."
–
