Son Turned Daughter: Yggdrasil Chapter 5: 42 110 the 911, a Ranma + Oh My Goddess! Crossover fanfic

Son Turned Daughter, Chapter 42

An unusual disclaimer: Ranma1/2 is the trademark of Rumiko Takahashi and VIZ Communications, and its characters have been borrowed without permission. And Son Turned Daughter was originally written back in 2002 by fanfiction author Tangent. Please see the first two chapters of this series under his pen name. This series has been written for noncommercial use only.

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This story is not about sex but gender. It is set in a late 1980's that mixes with, from the perspective of our universe, the early 1990's: a time when binary gender identity was the expected norm. Ranma dys-ease with having a female brain-body is a reflection of those born with the brain-body of a gender other than the one their chemistry says they actually are.

Note: In an effort to show the problem Ranma is having with gender identity, the different pronouns ('her', 'she', 'he', 'him', 'his') are used to indicate which is the more relevant at the time. 'S/he' indicates the increased ambiguity or conflict.

All but one of the ideas in here are, as far as I know, original with me. Credit any who may have had them before in the Reviews.

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Chapter 42

Ranma broke the humid contact as they were approaching the door to Ucchan's restaurant. The apartment, the bedroom where the three born-girls and her would be alone together in were just up its stairs. "Slumber parties are for girls, right? Have fun or whatever girls have at one."

"Shampoo go, too!"

"Don't make me make you guys my slaves," Ukyo warned them, holding up her battle spatula. "Look, it's been ten years since I saw Ranma. And I just met you two, Akane, Shampoo. I'm new to town and don't know anybody else but a third cousin." Then she lowered her weapon, her shoulders slumped. "And this is the first time, like ever, that I can try and be a girl.

"I don't know if I can really be one. Not by myself."

"Aw, man," Ranma groaned. Ukyo was just like her.

Only her friend deserved to be a girl. She was born that way. –And he should have seen that before she lost her way! Maybe his wrong-sex curse was punishment.

"I've been helping Ranma learn what its like to be a girl," Akane proudly said.

More importantly, for Ranma, as guy or girl, Akane was his and her main support.

"If Airen stay, Shampoo have stay." She looked in the direction of the other restaurant was in. She could have fully enjoyed her youth-time in Japan if her great grandmother hadn't reminded her about the Cuīhuàjì lessons.

She turned back. And stiffened her spine. "Shampoo from tribe of womans hero! Is duty show Ranma how be Joketsu, too!"

"You're no longer an Amazon, Sugar," Ukyo said. "Even your old lady sensei said so." And allowed her, she wanted to believe, from having called the terrible sport 'women hero'.

"And does Shampoo even know how to be a girl?" Akane smirked. "Or are you just a jock?" The Tendō power of denial conveniently forgot her experience of Shampoo.

"Shampoo show all how be girl!"

"I'll be the one showing!" Akane answered the challenge.

"Just great," Ranma muttered. "Like I ever really wanted to be a girl." His goal had always been to just find the truce between his two halves.

And have friends who were better than the boys s/he had met in his life.

"Are these two really the best we got, Ranchan?" Ukyo said as she came near to the redhead.

Ranma sighed. "Akane has been the best I've had."

"Until me!" Ukyo said, standing shoulder to almost should with her smaller friend. And more(?)

{'Aiya! Is new Fàngkāi?! Is Shampoo Fàngkāi!?'}

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After the long entrance way was the great room with everything that didn't belong in the bathroom or bedroom. "Not very feminine," Akane critiqued.

"I just moved in!" Ukyo defended herself. "And being a street vendor travelling the world meant I couldn't very well lug around a bunch of dust-collectors!"

But she did have a wrestling ring-sized griddle, Ranma remembered. But the Magic meant it to be thought of as old news, not worth mentioning.

"But what Spatula Girl Ukyo have is for boy, no?" Shampoo could stick it to her better than Loud Girl Akane.

"Yes: Because I had to disguise myself as a boy!

"And about the way this place looks, Ikuko told me my relatives have things they can give me. Or rent. I want a more Japanese style, not this Western one."

"My house has authentic Japanese style," Akane said. "But my bedroom is Western." And she sat down on the couch. Even Ranma could see which one she preferred as she ran her hand over the fabric. Tatami mats were made of reeds.

S/he sat down in the arm chair closest to her. S/he debated whether it was a good thing or not that there was a (coffee) table between them

"You guys care for something?" Ukyo asked. "Can't have a party without goodies."

"Okonomiyaki at this hour?" Akane didn't approve.

"I can cook something else in this kitchenette. …That is, if there's anything in it to cook." Checking the cupboards: There was!

Only, "Ikuko must have done the shopping." Ukyo said looking at the 'healthy food'.

"Is win-time for Shampoo! Tribe know Ancient Secret of Junk Food!" And she stepped into the small space and moved about so forcefully, Ukyo had to leave or challenge the Amazon.

Ukyo went and leaned on the back of the chair Ranma was in. But the chef could not pass up the chance to learn new preparation techniques or judge differing cuisines. Shampoo was using a lot of olive oil in the wok and seasoning with too much salt and sugar for her own taste.

Ranma saw Akane was not happy. "It's like martial arts: You can't get too stressed out, only the right amount."

"I know that(!)" But knowing and applying are two different things.

"She's not good at the womanly art of cooking, I take it," Ukyo interpreted.

"It doesn't make you a woman to be able to cook!" Ranma defended Akane. "I cook!"

"Yeah, yeah. And 'The most of best chefs in the world are men'. Look, I'm a realist. Ever since we learned to use fire, women were the ones that were made to stay in place and singe our leg hairs and burn our fingers cooking for the men. After a millennium of millenniums, it got stuck in the genes of those who survived."

"Then I'm not like other woman. I'm a throwback," Akane's voice was haunted. "My sister Kasumi can cook any meal. No wonder Dr. Tōfū likes her better."

"Nabiki can't cook!" Ranma reminded her.

"Only because she has 'better thing to do'."

"How manly is this Nabiki?" Ukyo asked.

Ukyo saw how much Ranchan wanted Akane to feel better. Well, here's an idea: "Hey, Shampoo, that grease is splattering all over my kitchen! And you're wasting the sugar and things by letting them get spilled! Don't you know anything about the womanly art of cleanliness!?"

"I can't do that, either."

"Clean-wash no for womans. That for slave-husband. Train against man-thinking that make mess of world. "

"Aw, crap," Ukyo grumbled. "I seem to be more womanly than you two. Uh, three; sorry, Ranma.

"Akane, you claimed you could show us how to be a girl. So: Show us!"

"Well, uh, how do I start–"

"Ta da! Late night junk food ready!" A dishcloth on each palm and arm and a plate on each of those, Shampoo came out of the kitchenette as gracefully as if she were doing a Chinese opera dance. (Of course, traditionally, the female parts were played by crossdressers.) Ranma had to admit that she looked delightful in her snug Chinese floral print top –that barely covered her sex(!)

Shampoo smugly giggled as she served Akane first, bowing only so she could present her pert butt to Ranma in the chair. In seconds Airen would find out if she were wearing panties.

Her buttocks were swatted! Ranma? she smiled. (Akane was just in time keep her place from falling on her bust and lap.)

But what Shampoo saw over her shoulder was Ranma having caught and handing back to Ukyo the small spatula she had thrown. Her rival's other hand had another of her spatulas ready. (The redhead's face was conflicted. Did s/he or didn't s/he want to see her panties?)

"This is my place, my rules!" Ukyo said with authority. "Cover yourself up, Shampoo! I'm tired of looking at those long, naked legs of yours!"

"But Airen like look-see what Shampoo has naked. No?" And she agilely pivoted and presented Ranma with food. She bowed so low her head was below the plates. She did this, though, only so her nose could be over the redhead's lap. "Sniff, sniff. Answer: Yes!"

Ranma raised one thigh over the other (and was too aware of one side of her accursed sex also raising stickily over the other, pushing up her–).

SWAT!

(Ranma was always keenly aware of food and saved the remaining three plates as Shampoo shot upright!)

Shampoo spun around to confront her attacker! It was Akane, of course!

But the frowning, grinning girl was holding one of Ukyo spatula's.

"Want play team against Shampoo(?) Then, play!" Out came her chui maces!

"What did you say about 'Once a slave, always a slave'?" Ukyo challenged her back, her own battle spatula out.

"Is no Japanese law. Is law of Womans Hero!"

"Shampoo!" Nearly spilling the food hadn't helped Ranma's mood. "Ukyo IS a woman hero."

"She is?" Akane said. "Oh, right: She won the tournament!" Though only because a demon had possessed her. But Shampoo may not know that, yet. She had been hiding from her great-grandmother, Cologne. Understandably, now.

"I did, didn't I." Though Ukyo still wasn't quite sure how she did. Her memory of the tournament was shot through with and broken up by static.

But it was something she–they–could use: "If I say you're my slave, you'll always be my slave until I am no longer a woman hero!"

"That type of woman hero no Woman Hero of Tribe." But Shampoo was less assertive than she should have been. A Three-year Smile of Death was hanging over her.

"But I am a Candidate. An honorary Honorary Woman Hero."

"Aiya. Spatula Girl Ukyo remind Shampoo of Grandmother." And the chui disappeared.

"And she reminds me of Nabiki," Ranma said under her breath.

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Shampoo left to go the hotel were she still had her things. She swore she would return as soon as she could.

"And take a cold shower!" Ukyo told her. "Ranma's not the only one who reeks of hormones!"

The redhead's face became red.

"Do I?" Akane asked.

"You don't know?"

"No. I almost never seem to know." But Akane was looking straight at Ranma when she said 'almost never'.

"If it's not one thing, it's another with you, isn't it, Sugar(?)

"Still, I did have to learn to take countermeasures to everything that could ruin my disguise as a boy.

"*Sigh* …I heard rumors and boy lore that women can have a hard time warming up to sex. Some are supposed to not ever."

"I'm NOT not ever!" Hopefully.

"Stupid as it sound, it may not matter, Akane. There are those who can be satisfied satisfying others."

"That IS stupid!"

"How about you, Ranchan? Can you find it satisfying satisfying others?"

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Shampoo was reminded of the cold water of the high, high mountains of Qinghai Province. And it actually made her feel better after thinking she was being scalded by the warm water the shower had been at. "Grandmother really did curse Shampoo with the Cat's Tongue pressure points."

"Would you like some shampoo, Shampoo?"

"Ai~ya! …Grandmother surprised Shampoo!" The nude girl turned off the water and wiped her wet, purple hair from over her eyes. "What's the shampoo Grandmother wishes to curse Shampoo with?"

"You use the term 'curse' too loosely, Granddaughter. You are not one of those who cannot escape the Jusenkyo training ground." Though her life could have been like that if it weren't for that little, black pig, now a black cat.

"Shampoo doesn't understand why you told Ranma, Loud Girl and Spatula Girl about Cuīhuàjì."

"Because the seed needs to be planted so that when the time comes to channel whatever flow of the Dào is available, the thought can be there that some mysterious something had a chance to be found. But as I said, it has to be spontaneous, doing-not-doing: wú-wéi!"

" '110'," Shampoo said, reading the label of the shampoo squeeze bottle. "Grandmother wants to give Shampoo partial amnesia!"

"So that you, too, can act without forethought." Which shouldn't be too difficult for her. "But you will spy and question and pass the information on to me."

"For now, it is important to know when and how the heir of Anything-Goes stopped being just cursed and started becoming a Cuīhuàjì, a Catalyst!"

"So, Grandmother wants Shampoo to remember what Shampoo must now forget?"

"Yes. Bring it up into your conscience, where it can be more easily blocked from your memory."

"Shampoo remembers the lessons: Many come to Jusenkyo but very few truly let its Chaos Luck train them in how to be open to the power of the evolving Dào."

"I saw the Power: I myself witnessed our Catalyst open himself up to the Maneki-neko Flow by himself–While he was lost in the Neko-ken, Cat Fist: Wú-wéi! What other powers will the Son-in-law of Our Future develop(?)! –Has developed!?"

"But Grandmother, a catalyst reacts. Without a flow to change, he himself cannot unlock his potential!"

"Of course not! We can very well guess who opened the Flow to the aptly named Chaos Orchid. But we need to be sure. And we need to know if that Fàngkāi can continue with the miracle!"

Chapters 11 to 12: The Lysistrata Rule Is Over—The Miracle and After

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And so a lost story thread is found and tied up into a big, gift wrap bow.

Rumiko Takahashi naming the partial amnesia shampoo Formula 110 is a pun. It's the equivalent to what in the US is the emergency phone number of 911.

The Dào, the Way, in traditional Chinese philosophy, religion and medicine is the raw, impersonal source of all things. It does not change, yet out of it comes all changing things, slow and fast. As qì ('chee') it moves through bodies through meridians. The less congested those lines of energy are, the more like a god even a person can become. The Fàngkāi unblocks the Way to the Cuīhuàjì.

Cologne sensed the current Flow and divined it was time to begin a plan that had been centuries in the waiting. And it would start with these four Honorary Women Heroes.

"Shampoo go, too!"

"I don't know if I can really be one. Not by myself."

"Aw, man," Ranma groaned. Ukyo was just like her.

Only her friend deserved to be a girl. She was born that way. –And he should have seen that before she lost her way! Maybe his wrong-sex curse was punishment.

"I've been helping Ranma learn what its like to be a girl," Akane proudly said.

More importantly, for Ranma, as guy or girl, Akane was his and her main support.

She turned back. And stiffened her spine. "Shampoo from tribe of womans hero! DIs duty show Ranma how be Joketsuzo, too!"

"You're no longer an Amazon, Sugar," Ukyo said. "Even your old lady sensei said so." And allowed her, she wanted to believe, from having called the terrible sport 'women hero'.

"And does Shampoo even know how to be a girl?" Akane smirked. "Or are you just a jock?" The Tendō power of denial was in play, again.

"Shampoo show all how be girl!"

"I'll be the one showing!" Akane answered the challenge.

"Just great," Ranma muttered. "Like I ever really wanted to be a girl." His goal had always been to just find the truce between his two halves.

And have friends who were better than the boys s/he had met in his life.

"Are these two really the best we got, Ranchan?" Ukyo said as she came near to the redhead.

Ranma sighed. "Akane has been the best I've had."

"Until me!" Ukyo said, standing shoulder to almost should with her smaller friend. And more(?)

{'Aiya! Is new Fàngkāi?! Is Shampoo Fàngkāi!?'}

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After the long entrance way was the great room with everything that didn't belong in the bathroom or bedroom. "Not very feminine," Akane critiqued.

"I just moved in!" Ukyo defended herself. "And being a street vendor traveling the world meant I couldn't very well lug around a bunch of dust-collectors!"

But she did have a wrestling ring-sized griddle, Ranma remembered. But the Magic meant it to be thought of as old news, not worth mentioning.

"But what Spatula Girl Ukyo have is for boy, no?" Shampoo could stick it to her better than Loud Girl Akane.

"Yes: Because I had to disguise myself as a boy!

"And about the way this place looks, Ikuko told me my relatives have things they can give me. Or rent. I want a more Japanese style, not this Western one."

"My house has authentic Japanese style," Akane said. "But my bedroom is Western!" And she sat down on the couch. Even Ranma could see which one she preferred as she ran her hand over the fabric. Tatami mats were made of reeds.