The Trainings of Kisara and Ranko
Ranma was training with Kensei, who was demonstrating the correct way to execute palm strikes by incorporating full-body rotation.
"See, Ranma-kun," began the Chinese Master, "this is the proper way to rotate your body. We've noticed that you also tend to strike too often in a frontal manner. Essentially, you're limiting yourself when you should be exploring different ways to move."
"Got it!" Ranma replied, imitating the rotation as demonstrated.
"By the way, as a side note, you've seemed rather cheerful lately... Did something good happen to you, Ranma-kun?"
"Uhm?" The boy flushed furiously.
"Uh, no, not really... Why do you ask?"
"Uhuhu... You're like an open book, you know?" teased the perverted Master. "To be a true martial artist, you need to learn how to conceal your emotions and feelings, at least to prevent opponents from reading and exploiting them against you."
Ranma fell silent, staring at the ground.
"So? Won't you really tell me what happened?" Kensei pressed before giving up with a shrug.
"Fine, it's your business after all. But let me give you a piece of advice," he added, his mischievous grin softening into a more genuine smile of camaraderie. "For people like us, life is already hard enough. So, if you happen to find something good—something worth fighting for, or even just something that brings you happiness and helps you escape life's struggles—don't let it slip away if you can help it."
Ranma seemed to relax. His expression shifted from surprise to a faint yet determined smile as he looked at his teacher with gratitude.
"Thank you, Kensei-shishou. I'll remember that."
Kensei returned the gaze with a knowing smile.
"Good. Now, let's continue training. As I was saying, palm strikes are often underestimated in other martial arts, but they're quite prevalent in Kung Fu. With the proper movements, you can channel power efficiently, letting energy transfer through body alignment and motion rather than brute force. The resulting energy surplus passes through the enemy like a shockwave, damaging them internally without leaving external marks.
"These are the strikes I specialize in—attacks that harness shockwaves and internal energy. They can be a valuable addition to your arsenal. But remember, it all starts with the body's movement."
"I see. It's just that... the way we accelerate confuses me. It feels like the acceleration during the rotation starts, then slows, then speeds up again."
"That's right. You need a strong initial push, but then you must hold back to avoid moving purely with force, realign your body, and only then complete the motion. Additionally, the enemy is often caught off guard by the rhythm change, making them easier to hit."
"I understand, but... it almost seemed like I saw it vanish, Master. I felt as if there was an afterimage of it moving."
"Ooh, sharp of you to notice," Kensei chuckled, turning slightly. "Yes, in fact, this method is similar to how afterimages are created."
"Really? That's a technique I've always wanted to learn!"
"Uhm... We might be biting off more than we can chew, but why not? Imagine accelerating in one direction, then suddenly braking as if to go the opposite way, before finally letting yourself go and accelerating for real in the initial direction. To your opponent, you'll linger visibly in one spot momentarily, but in reality, you've already vanished in the other direction."
Ranma attempted it, but accelerating in opposite directions proved easier said than done.
"Look, like this!" exclaimed Kensei, proceeding to disappear and reappear, leaving behind various afterimages of himself. Some of these were engaged in activities like reading a dirty magazine, fishing for trout in a pond, snacking, sunbathing, or attempting to photograph Shigure with a camera equipped with a telescopic lens.
Wow... That's incredible...
"Anyway, I think I get it... it's something like... THIS?"
Ranma completed his acceleration and disappeared from sight, leaving behind a copy of himself performing the exercise in a crouched position.
"Very good, boy! You learn quickly. At higher levels, to fool Masters, you also use your Ki, leaving traces of it in the afterimage. This exploits the advanced sensory perception of your opponents, holding their attention on the decoy for just a fraction longer.
That's called a Ki Clone. But for now, one thing at a time. By the way, are you keeping up with your weekly meditation to refine your Ki usage?"
"Yes, always. Sometimes, even more than once a week."
"Good, because from what I've seen, your fighting style heavily relies on techniques that utilize Ki, especially those you haven't shown us yet."
Ranma couldn't help but marvel once again at the perceptiveness of the Ryozanpaku Masters.
To be honest, Kensei was one of those he got along with the best, after their initial squabbles. Every day spent with him was a treasure trove of lessons, anecdotes, and even amusing ways to pass the time.
"By the way, Ranma," Hayato asked, appearing out of nowhere, "I have a question for you: Have you ever... created new techniques?"
"Created new techniques? Well... I've heavily modified many secret techniques I've learned from others, often developing new versions on the fly during combat to resolve specific situations... so I have several variations of the same move in my arsenal.
But creating a new one entirely from scratch? No, I haven't."
"Mmh... I thought as much. Well, it's still early for that."
"Early for what, if I may ask?"
"They say martial artists go through three stages: Passive Learning, where they strictly replicate the models taught; Breaking, where they modify teachings to suit their own style; and finally Liberation, where they explore and invent new paths, unbound by anything or anyone*.
"From what you've said, you're in the Breaking stage, which is further than most practitioners—Masters included—will ever reach. But you're not yet at Liberation. That's fine, though; it's a process that must happen naturally and shouldn't be rushed.
"Still, it's helpful to start asking yourself about your characteristics as a martial artist. Are there techniques you lack, ones you'd like to create? Or is there a principle or situation you'd want to exploit in some way?"
Ranma spent a moment reflecting.
Inventing a new technique... I'd feel so lost. I wouldn't know where to start. But... AH! Now that I think about it...
My father! The Yamasen Ken and the Umisen Ken... techniques he completely invented, based on entirely opposing principles. Truly extraordinary...
Is that what it means to reach the level of a Master? So, despite everything... I'm still not on his level?
Shaking himself from his thoughts, he responded, "For now, I don't have any ideas. Sorry."
Kensei spoke up. "Well, it's not a big deal. For now, let's stick to your usual training and teaching you our techniques. Eventually, you'll come up with something."
Ranma looked at him with gratitude. "Of course!"
Later, while sparring with the Chinese Master, the pigtailed boy asked, "Kensei-shishou, I have a question."
"Go ahead, Ranma-kun."
"You Ryozanpaku Masters… Have you all created your ultimate techniques by yourselves?"
"Of course," replied the small Master, "and that's why they sometimes end up being a little different from both the martial art they're based on and our personal styles. In some cases, a final move might be an advanced development of a pre-existing technique, one that pushes a theoretical concept to its extreme, or something that properly leverages your personal characteristics and preferences—or even all three at once."
"And about Kenichi's Mubyoshi…"
"That, as he told you, is an Ougi he created himself. In fact, we're very proud of him for it. It represents the synthesis of his journey at Ryozanpaku: a strike that utilizes principles from four different martial arts."
Even Kenichi has already invented his own move…
"What about the Ryusui Seikuken and the Korui Nuki?"
"Those are special techniques of the Elder, which he decided to teach only to our First Disciple over the years."
"Does he have many more?"
"Oh, it's said that old Hayato has created a total of 108 secret techniques over the years. Kings and princes have begged him to teach them, but to no avail."
Ranma's eyes widened while continuing to attack and defend.
It seems like I still have a long way to go…
"Anyway," Kensei concluded, "when training a student, it's not so much about teaching them MANY techniques, but rather selecting WHICH techniques to teach: they must first and foremost suit their personal characteristics to enhance them, not the other way around."
Ranma paused for a moment to consider this.
"And of course, you're just telling me this for idle conversation, not because you've 'had the intuition' that it might serve me for some other reason..."
"Ranma, my boy," Kensei concluded with his most sardonic smile, "why else would I say it, otherwise?"
That afternoon, Ranko visited Kisara with a renewed sense of awareness to train her.
She found the girl waiting for her in high spirits, which brightened even more at the sight of her.
"Whoa, Master! Something good happened during New Year's vacation, didn't it?!"
"Again? What is it with everyone today? And besides, if anything, it would've happened last week… I mean, um, I was saying—"
"A-ah! I knew it! Master, did you perhaps… meet someone?"
"KISARA! What did I tell you when we started? Pretend I don't exist and that I emerged from the ground."
The girl flinched slightly, looking to the side and blushing.
Despite her Master's usual sternness and reserve, Kisara had recently gotten the impression that the red-haired woman was beginning to open up to her, so she had dared to push a little.
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. It's just that… well, I was happy. That at least someone else was doing well, and… lately, it seemed like we were… no, never mind. Forget it, you're right."
Ranma looked at her for a moment and felt a bit guilty. Then she sighed.
"Oh, Kami… fine. Kisara, if you… have a problem and want to talk a bit, before training… or after… we can do that if you want. It's just… I don't think I'm very good at giving support or advice. I'm not the most frivolous and feminine of women, as you might have noticed."
Kisara's eyes lit up; she could hardly believe it.
"Really? REALLY? Oh, thank you, Master, I… to be honest, I'm not even sure… I want to talk about it." She turned away, blushing deeply.
Good grief. First, she gets all sentimental, and now she's too shy to talk. I'll never understand women, ever.
I definitely prefer Kisara when she acts like the tomboy she is.
Ranma didn't know how to broach the subject. Then she had a revelation. "Let's blame the other guy; she already dislikes him…"
"Kisara," she began hesitantly, "to be honest… my brother told me…"
Her student's expression changed. Ranko seemed incredibly embarrassed.
"Well… it's not like we TALK about you or anything… Let's just say he happened to cross paths with some people from that group… what's it called? The Shimpaku Alliance? And he noticed those two guys, the big one with sunglasses and your tanned friend who uses a staff…"
Kisara gave a bitter smile. "Yes, Ukita and Kaname, my ex and my best friend, are dating. And I can't even blame them."
"In the end… for so long, I refused to go out with Ukita… then I gave in to his persistence and dated him for a while… but I don't know if I really cared for him.
And I had no idea… that Kaname, of all people… my best friend, the person I admired most… was attracted to him… and stood by watching while I dated him as if it was nothing…
But in the end… I broke up with Ukita… I didn't want him to feel bad, but I couldn't keep pretending… and yet now… seeing them together… it gives me a strange feeling…"
The girl was on the verge of tears.
"I realize that Ukita cared about me… I don't know, I'm not sure… Maybe I simply rejected his love, but at the same time, I'm not doing anything to get the love of the one I truly want… if that's the case, what does that make me?
Would I even deserve to be happy, in that case?"
Ranko didn't expect such an outpouring and didn't know what to say. She felt embarrassed.
Kisara, however, concluded, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dumped my problems on you. Still, I feel better. Talking about it helped."
"Kisara, just know this," Ranko interjected, "I… don't think there are people who DESERVE or DON'T DESERVE happiness. Happiness… is a capricious deity. She doesn't grant her gifts based on merit, that much is certain. But if she did… you would deserve it, no doubt."
Her student gave her a look of disbelief mixed with gratitude.
Ranko simply nodded.
"And now, shall we move on to training?"
"Y-yes, of course."
"Very well. On that note," the young woman said, changing her tone, "I've thought a lot about your training. And I realized… that so far, I've been a bit all over the place."
Her student's eyes widened. The Master was speaking with a rather unapologetic tone, considering what she was admitting.
"However," she continued in a more didactic manner, "that was inevitable, given I had no training experience, as I warned you.
But these early days allowed me to get an idea and lay the groundwork for everything. So now I've developed A PLAN based on your actual needs. Let me outline it immediately:
1. Correct your defensive weaknesses.
2. Teach you aerial combat.
3. Draw out your Dou Ki to enhance your abilities and maximize your cat-like combat style.
4. Help you develop a secret technique suited to your strengths.
5. Teach you how to face armed opponents effectively.
And that's about it, I think."
Kisara didn't know what to say. "Well… okay, but… that seems like a lot."
"Then let's get started right away."
"Alright, Kisara, now that you've learned how to move across rooftops, you're ready to learn one of the fundamental principles of the Saotome School: aerial combat."
"Yes, Master."
Kisara felt over the moon; this was what she had been waiting for her entire life.
"Of course," Ranko continued, "there are several ways to do it. From what my brother told me, you already mimic the movements of the Furinji style, used by the Ryozanpaku heir. He described them to me—they're quite different from ours.
Also, when you fight like a cat, you already launch airborne attacks, while jumping onto enemies.
So eventually, you'll integrate multiple aerial combat methods.
But first, you need to master the aerial combat of the Saotome School. Once that's your foundation, you can add new methodson top."
Kisara nodded to show she understood.
"In essence, our style is based on... well, let's say, staying airborne while fighting."
Kisara's eyes widened, and she momentarily forgot one of her rules.
"But... Master, that's... impossible!"
Ranko looked annoyed but then closed her eyes for a moment. Upon reopening them, she said,
"Kisara, if you want to surpass your limits, you must understand this:
IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT IS POSSIBLE OR IMPOSSIBLE. WHAT MATTERS IS WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO DO HERE AND NOW."
To demonstrate, Ranko grabbed a sandbag, tossed it into the air like a baseball, then leaped up after it. Reaching it at a height of ten meters, she began unleashing a storm of kicks on it.
While doing so, she spun around the bag midair as if floating, striking from all directions, and said,
"You see, Kisara? When you strike an object or an opponent, the recoil you receive generates two opposing forces. The impulse from this motion cancels out, causing the two bodies to remain suspended in the air, as if repelling each other.
Kisara Nanjo was stunned.
I don't believe my eyes. This can't be real. And yet I'm seeing it!
"And when you finally stop..."
Ranko and the sandbag plummeted back to the ground. She landed with the grace of a gymnast, while the bag landed riddled with holes.
Kisara trembled with surprise and excitement. She reached out to touch the bag, then looked at her master as though she had just witnessed a unicorn.
"And... this principle... can it really be learned? Can I... do it?"
Ranko tilted her head slightly, flashing a sardonic smile.
"As for defense," Ranko said, placing her student's feet into a pot of dirt as though she were a plant, "your problem is that you don't rotate your torso enough to block with your arms. Instead, you prefer to dodge with your whole body. But what happens when you can't or don't have time to move? You'll definitely get hit."
Kisara looked skeptical about being turned into a decorative plant.
"This way, you'll be forced to block if you don't want to get hurt. By rotating your torso to intercept blows with your forearms, instead of just raising your arms, you'll block more effectively. Get ready, because I'm going to attack you for real."
"Wait, hold on, but—"
There was no but. Ranko began circling her at high speed, raining down blows from above, below, right, and left. Kisara found herself frantically turning toward each incoming attack in a desperate attempt to survive.
It was strikingly similar to the training Hayato had once subjected Ranma to.
Ranma was sparring with Sakaki at Ryozanpaku on a Wednesday morning, exchanging high-speed strikes as they moved continuously across the lawn.
"Good, just like that," the scarred karateka instructed, "don't rush. Try to make every hit a decisive blow."
Ranma picked up the pace slightly, prompting Sakaki to not only block but also counterattack.
"Very good! Let's spice up this training a bit!"
At one point, they realized they were training near where Akisame and Mousse were sitting, engrossed in a game of shogi in the center of the garden.
"Oops! Sorry, guys, are we disturbing you?" Sakaki asked, briefly glancing over while continuing to spar with Ranma as if it were nothing.
"NO!" the two intellectuals replied in unison.
Just then, one of the walls of Shigure's room exploded outward.
Two figures darted out at high speed onto the lawn, fiercely clashing swords. It was Kuno and the Master of All Weapons herself, Shigure.
"This time, the Blue Thunder shall finally defeat you, sweet Shigure!" declared the kendoka.
Shigure, however, didn't seem particularly concerned, effortlessly parrying all his attacks with her left hand and a short sword.
Ranma noticed her glance toward Akisame and Mousse's table. Then, with casual ease and a mischievous air, Shigure drew a second short sword with her right hand and began attacking the Chinese boy sitting at the table.
Without looking, Mousse pulled a large Chinese-style knife from his sleeve and used it to parry all her strikes with his right hand, never taking his eyes off the game.
Ranma couldn't decide what was more impressive: Mousse's blind defense or Shigure's ability to duel two opponents simultaneously.
"Whoa!" Ranma admitted, pigtail swaying. "Gotta say, everyone's really giving it their all, huh?"
"You said it," Sakaki agreed. "That's why we can't fall behind!"
Ranma only realized later that both he and Sakaki had continued exchanging blows blindly while their heads were turned, watching the others.
Just then, a loud yell rang out, and someone went flying over the wall, landing not far from the outer gate. It was Ryoga.
"Looks like Apachai's in top form this morning," Sakaki observed.
The boy with the bandana struggled to his feet, determination blazing in his eyes, as his master hurried over to check on him.
"A...again!" Ryoga declared.
"You know," the pigtailed boy quipped, "maybe those two really are made for each other."
"Yeah, but not the way you think. Ryoga's got the OPPOSITE problem from you. He throws too few strikes—powerful but slow. He needs to work on speed and precision if he doesn't want to be an easy target. And Apachai, despite his overwhelming power, is perfect for teaching him because, as a Grandmaster, he's also incredibly fast and technical."
Ranma observed as Ryoga tried to throw rapid, less powerful combinations at Apachai, who danced around him, countering with ease.
"I throw too many strikes and need to make them fewer but more powerful. He, on the other hand, needs to work on speed and precision," Ranma summarized. "So, once we both correct our flaws... we'll meet somewhere in the middle? Our styles might even resemble each other a bit?"
"Hmm! Who knows? High-level practitioners tend to look a bit alike. At the same time, what sets them apart is just as important—their personal style, their secret techniques..."
Ranko was making Kisara quickly plunge her hands into baskets of gravel. Earlier, she had forced her to do the same with her bare, clenched toes.
"Come on, keep going! Don't stop! Conditioning your hands and feet was an essential part of Okinawan Karate, and even though your primary style is TaeKwonDo, you should toughen the limbs you use to strike as much as possible. That way, you hurt the enemy without hurting yourself."
"Master...huff!...may I ask...pant!...one thing? I understand hands, feet, shins...but why make the fingers of the hands and feet specifically tougher?"
"Because of the peculiarities of your style," the redhead explained. "As we've seen, you tend to do two things: hit your opponent with kicks and very little with punches, and fight like a cat. But when you do the first, your punches aren't heavy enough, while with the second, instead of hitting, you scratch. If you scratch, you need to strengthen your fingers to avoid hurting yourself more than you hurt your opponent."
"Alright, I get that, but...why the toes?"
"That's for the next technique I'll teach you."
A few minutes later, Kisara was barefoot, standing in front of Ranko, who displayed a wooden board and a large card resembling an Advent Calendar, with a hundred red sticky notes attached.
"As for your feet, as the ancient Masters used to do, you should be able to attack an enemy with your toes, piercing their body like a spear." To demonstrate, she threw off one shoe, clenched her toes, and delivered a kick to the wooden board, leaving a clean hole through it.
"Incredible...if that had been a human body..."
"Exactly. This method can be effective because the toe has a smaller surface area than the sole, the instep, or the shin, making it harder to block. Furthermore, you can aim to strike the opponent's vital points, defeating them quickly with just a few hits.
To practice this, I want you to perform this exercise. Each time I remove a sticky note—and she began to rapidly pull off the red notes, revealing yellow squares underneath—I want you to strike precisely only at the yellow squares. Got it?"
"I...yes, I'll do it."
"Remember, Kisara. I believe you can do this...to create a new variant of that technique."
"Which technique?"
"To perform a certain legendary technique...using your feet!"
For several weeks, Ranma snuck into Miu's room two to three times a week. He knew perfectly the locations of traps, alarms, and the minefield because Akisame had no reason to hide them or not update him on new developments, so he never had any trouble sneaking in undetected, avoiding the cameras.
He usually waited until his mother was asleep to quickly make his way to the Ryozanpaku, though it was more likely Nodoka suspected something and was happy that her Ranma was "acting like a real man" with his mystery girl...whose identity she might very well have guessed.
The pigtailed boy and the last of the Furinji clan were insatiable. They desired each other, sought each other, savored each other. They spent a lot of time making love but also simply exchanging tender gestures. Usually, they didn't talk or rationalize their feelings, behaving the next day as if nothing had happened—a sort of unspoken agreement that worked for both. It was as if they instinctively sought each other, feeling a natural chemistry, but were aware that talking about it or involving anyone else would break the spell. No one else would understand. And between them, words weren't needed.
For Miu, especially, that secrecy seemed perfect. She didn't want to explain things to anyone. She didn't want to justify her life or have it under the spotlight again. The same went for Ranma. He'd had only one relationship in his life, with a dozen people constantly butting in. To both of them, it seemed perfect to finally have something that was just theirs.
There was just the two of them, a room, and the rest of the world stayed outside.
After the training ended, Ranko and Kisara lit a small fire in the yard and roasted sweet potatoes for a snack.
"I didn't think you'd handle it so well, to be honest."
"Eh-heh, I told you I'm tough," Kisara chuckled, satisfied. "And besides...training has never scared me—though I admit this is particularly intense—because at least...it's simple. Linear. You do something, and you get a result."
"It's not like...human relationships, you mean?"
"Exactly. Those...are much more complicated," the girl admitted bitterly.
"It's important to have a clear mind while training...though it's not always easy, I admit.
Romantic relationships...well, I can't say I understand much about them. They've always been a mess for me too."
Kisara turned her head toward her master with a teasing tone.
Perhaps she could dare to push a bit.
"Well, you must've always had a bunch of men buzzing around you, Master...or women, I don't know your preferences."
Ranko seemed embarrassingly flustered, even more than one might expect, and started to stammer.
"What kind of question is that...I...I'm absolutely straight, though...I have to admit I've had quite a few admirers of both genders."
"Haha, I knew it!" the girl gloated.
"There's nothing to celebrate about. Most of the people interested in me were against my will and particularly insistent and annoying. And if you think women are any better than men, you're sorely mistaken: some of them are downright rabid."
"That doesn't surprise me. Times have changed. I'm not a very traditional girl myself...actually, in our little circle of martial arts fanatics, almost none of us are."
"But there's a big difference between being unconventional and being a stalker!" Ranko snapped, irritated. "Almost everyone, men and women, who were...brrr...interested in me, thought they had some kind of claim over me. They wanted to jump straight to the altar!"
"That's insane."
"Yeah, and besides, I...in all that chaos...couldn't have...a normal love life...not under everyone's watchful eyes...to focus on who I really wanted, without interference..."
Kisara's eyes lit up.
She didn't seem the gossipy type, but evidently, there was no resisting.
Maybe it really was an intrinsic trait of girls, Ranma thought to himself.
"And now...is there someone in your life, Master?"
Ranko, blushing, turned to look elsewhere with a lack of composure that a Sei-level fighter shouldn't have.
"Maybe, who knows..."
Kisara beamed, radiant. Her master always acted like a robot, but for once, she seemed decidedly human.
"But...even if there is...I'm not exactly sure how to define the relationship...and maybe...both I and that person...think it'll work best if it remains private."
"A secret relationship! How romantic!"
Is it really?
I don't think I feel the same way about Miu as I did about Akane.
Nor do I think she feels something as deep for me.
At least, I think so—go figure, women.
But...it's not purely physical either. I mean, it is, but not only...
"Oh! And what about Ranma?"
"What? Ranma? Why? Again? I mean, I wanted to say...what does my brother have to do with this now?"
"Oh, don't take it the wrong way: I don't like your brother."
Well, thank goodness, that'd be all I needed!
"Actually, to be honest...I think...I'm more interested in girls...maybe that's why, despite everything...things with Ukita couldn't work out."
Huh? Wait a minute. So maybe she wasn't jealous of Ukita because he was dating Kaname.
Yet she mentioned 'someone' she's really interested in and not putting enough effort into...
Oooh, what if the truth is that she's actually into...
"However," Kisara continued, blushing like a tomato and desperate to change the subject, "I must admit your brother is quite a handsome guy, Sensei.
You two really look alike.
Oh, but just to be clear, I'm not getting any weird ideas about you.
Or about him... who I don't even like that much.
Though… you do ALSO act very similarly…
Ah, but by that I don't mean you're ALSO unlikable, I—"
Kisara had thoroughly tangled herself in her own words, flailing her hands nervously as sweat poured down her face, her complexion as red as Ranma's shirt.
"Kisara, CUT TO THE POINT!"
"Yes, yes! What I mean is… I imagine he must have tons of girls buzzing around him. Or guys, for that matter. I was just curious. I wanted some gossip, that's all."
Ranko looked scandalized at the mere mention of "guys." Kisara was surprised by her reaction.
"FIRST of all, my brother Ranma is UNQUESTIONABLY heterosexual.
SECOND, actually… well, he has far fewer admirers than you'd think. At least compared to before.
THIRD… well, okay, in the past, he did have quite a few admirers—no surprise there, he's such a handsome, strong, and especially manly guy—and FOURTH…"
Kisara, initially attentive, grew more puzzled with every contradiction and hint of embarrassment from Ranko. But at the fourth point, she became outright intrigued.
"And fourth… well… I'm not sure he ever really got over the breakup he had a year ago," Ranko concluded. Her gaze turned distant and wistful, as though she were reflecting on the ghosts of a past era and futures that never came to be.
Kisara placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Sensei. You don't have to talk about it if it's painful."
"It's fine. The thing is… well, I just find it so unfair how it all ended. Such a cruel twist of fate. He never really got to date the girl he truly liked… who, in my opinion, was a total blockhead, by the way… and at the same time, his life was complicated by other admirers who all thought they had some kind of claim to him… And just when it seemed like things were finally getting better… everything fell apart."
"I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter. I guess it just wasn't meant to be."
"You two seem very close."
"Oh, you have no idea. We're practically the same person."
"It must be nice to have someone to share everything with. I'm an only child; I'm used to being alone."
Ranma realized the same applied to him.
Yeah… maybe it would've been nice to actually have someone to really share everything with, huh?
"So, how did he meet this girl?"
Ranko let out a sharp breath.
"Umph! Now, that's the best part of the story. That idiot of a father of ours arranged a marriage for him—can you believe it?—in the 20th century! With the daughter of his best friend, so he could inherit their family's dojo."
"WHAT?! That's insane!"
"Yeah, totally nuts. At first, their relationship was a disaster. They couldn't stand each other, probably because they were afraid that if they showed any affection, their crazy parents would push them straight to the altar."
"Unbelievable. But you said he had other admirers too, right?"
"Yes, a whole lineup of more or less unhinged girls."
"And he never… took the opportunity to just have fun with any of them?"
"WHAT?! NO! HOW CAN YOU EVEN SUGGEST THAT?!"
Ranko calmed down slightly but still seemed flustered.
"Well… to be honest… I don't think the thought ever crossed his mind. After all… he liked his fiancée, in his own way… And even if that weren't the case… the fact that all the others had… marriage expectations probably stopped him from even considering it."
Ranma realized he had never thought about it that way. He resumed speaking, lost in thought, as if addressing himself rather than his student.
"Maybe… in hindsight, he should have? Just had fun, like so many guys his age? But he's not that kind of person… not unless he feels some kind of connection, I think. And then… like I said, those marriage expectations… if he'd done something like that… it would've all gone downhill. The others would've started planning the wedding…"
"I see what you mean. Responsibility, huh?"
"Yeah, responsibility. It's a concept I've been thinking about a lot lately. Inheriting the school, taking on the role of a master… These are things both of us have avoided for a long time. On one hand, you can't run away forever. But on the other… I don't think you should do things just to please others. You don't owe someone anything just because they like you. You shouldn't have to erase yourself for someone else. And that applies to relationships, work, or—"
"Everything, right. That's an interesting idea. It's true, though. As much as I felt guilty about leaving Ukita… it was for the best in the end."
"Yeah, and Ranma… He was supposed to inherit that school… marry that girl… Well, in the latter case… I think he might've wanted to, someday… if they hadn't been rushed… if he'd met her under different circumstances… and if they'd done it just for themselves, not for others."
"So, in a way, he rebelled. He asserted his individuality."
"I think… it gave him anxiety. Knowing the future was already decided. By someone else. That his opinion didn't matter. He's always… I mean, we've always accepted dedicating our lives to martial arts, but…"
Kisara felt a lump in her throat. Her expression turned somber, almost mournful, worrying Ranko.
"Kisara, what's wrong?"
"No, it's nothing, really. It's just… I realized my life is very similar to your brother's."
"What do you mean?"
"My parents… well, you've met them. They're wealthy, I'm their only child… They've always spoiled me, turned a blind eye to whatever I did… martial arts, gang fights… But they also expect me to take over the family business someday. And I… I don't know if I really want to."
"Is it because you're not interested in the work? Or because you think you're not capable? Or is it the responsibility that scares you?"
"I… I'm not sure. Maybe a bit of all three. But… yeah, maybe it's mostly the responsibility. Maybe because… I'd lose my freedom. I've always wanted to live free… like a cat. But… I'm most afraid of losing all this. At the same time, I feel guilty because… well, I have to do something with my life, right? I can't live off my parents forever. But I honestly don't know what I'd want to do to earn my living."
You don't know how much I understand… You're right. It's just like my situation with the Tendo dojo…
"So, for now, we've reached a compromise. I've taken a gap year, and in the mornings, I'm studying to take the entrance exam for university next year… Economics and Business… and in return, I get to keep pursuing my other activities and receive an allowance.
But... perhaps the time will come when I'll have to choose? Will I have to give up martial arts? Won't I be able to fight alongside my friends anymore? That… scares me."
Ranko paused, reflecting for a moment before answering.
"I don't think you necessarily have to quit. Most people practice martial arts as a hobby. A company head can surely organize their time in a way that allows for that, even if it means hiring someone to help out or making slightly less profit.
Or, you could use the money to do something else you enjoy. Sell the company once you inherit it.
Or find something else you prefer to do while your parents manage the company, and they can sell it when they retire.
I think the best thing is to have several options. Being born into a wealthy family is luckier than most, so you should make the most of it."
"I know... I feel a bit ashamed complaining like this. Maybe I'm really just running away from responsibility. They care about it, and I... I don't entirely hate the idea. I'm just unsure, I think."
"Yes, responsibility... it's an interesting concept. What's the boundary, the difference between running away from responsibility... and affirming your individuality?
Maybe, in the latter case, you're willing to accept responsibility as long as it's you choosing it and not someone else?"
"Maybe."
"But in your specific case... someone recently made me think about something else. Martial arts... they're constantly passed down to future generations. Otherwise, they'd disappear.
Martial arts are... words spoken to us by people who died hundreds or thousands of years ago. A dialogue we maintain with them. Proof of their existence.
In the same way, any new invention or addition we make in our lives will, in turn, be proof of our existence for future generations.
Perhaps... it's the same with everything we want to pass on to someone.
Your parents care about passing the family business on to you because they want it to continue existing and because... well, it's yours in a way.
Aaah, anyway, never mind. I've talked too much. Obviously, you can do whatever you want."
Kisara's eyes widened. It was strange to hear her Master speak so deeply, and judging by her expression, she seemed surprised herself.
"Yes, of course," Kisara said, "but... it's still an interesting perspective."
"Just remember one thing, Kisara. There are many different paths to reach a goal. Never impose limits on yourself. Don't think in terms of black and white.
If you get stuck thinking that only one goal, only one person, only one way of doing things can bring you happiness... well, either you're extremely lucky, or you'll never be happy. Instead, look at it from the perspective that there are different options... that the only limit is your imagination... then no one will ever be able to stop you."
Kisara looked at her as if she were the Buddha.
"Are... those your own words, Master?"
"Not exactly. Let's say a wise old man might've told me something similar recently.
But I'll tell you something else, and this one's entirely my own.
Far be it from me to give advice about family. Mine's a disaster.
But precisely because I've almost never had one, I understand the value of a united family. I... I've always felt its absence.
And when I've come into contact with others' families... I've felt warmth. And also envy. And now my family isn't united again...
But it seems to me that you and your parents have a good relationship despite everything.
So, in life, do what you feel like doing, whatever it is—inherit the company or don't, practice martial arts or don't, heck, join a circus if you want—but... if possible, don't ruin the relationship you have with them.
Because believe me, when things go wrong—and sooner or later, they will—you'll want to have that safe harbor to return to.
I've been a rebel for much of my life. And if you knew my family, you'd understand why.
But... if someone cares about you and you get along... what's the point of rebelling?"
For a few weeks now, nothing particularly new had happened at Ryozampaku.
Since Ranma had made peace with Ryoga and Miu had stopped acting strangely—being cold towards both Ranma and him—Kenichi thought nothing could disturb their serenity.
Relations between the four of them (he now included Renka) were great, even though they could mostly see each other on weekends when they went out like normal people.
The boy also realized he'd always underestimated Renka, and after all, she was truly a good person and pleasant to spend time with.
Lately, their teamwork had improved, and he wondered how the upcoming monthly 2-on-1 matches scheduled by the Elder would turn out.
Kenichi found himself thinking that perhaps he and Renka might surprise Ranma next time, given how well they were starting to cooperate.
In fact, even during December's match, which had ended without a winner, the pigtailed boy had struggled a bit fighting two opponents, though he seemed to have a lot of fun—especially after Renka suggested using Ki signals to coordinate their moves.
Their collaboration had been much better than that of the two girls the previous month.
Kenichi couldn't help but wonder how well he would fight alongside Miu at the end of January...
Training aside, Kenichi, naturally friendly, had bonded quite well with Ranma's companions, especially with Ryoga. The latter seemed regretful of everything and eager for a fresh start, an opportunity Shirahama, always ready to forgive, was willing to offer. He was also glad that Ranma himself had made peace with him despite everything.
The Strongest Disciple and the young man with no sense of direction had several things in common, including a certain shy and dreamy nature. Ryoga had even offered to read drafts of the book Kenichi was writing to give his opinion.
Even with Kuno, the relationship was good—except when Kuno tried to give bouquets to Miu and Renka, asking them out. Both declined: Miu was incredibly embarrassed, and Renka was flattered but firm (though she still kept the flowers).
Kenichi found himself annoyed… maybe even jealous… in both of cases?
Kuno was also the most superficially sociable of the three new disciples of Ryozanpaku and often joined the Shinpaku Alliance's outings. Apart from talking a lot about himself and trying to impress everyone with his wealth (which they tolerated for the sake of free drinks), the aspiring samurai had, of course, set his sights on ALL the beautiful girls in the group—and there were quite a few.
Naturally, Takeda and Ukita made sure he didn't get too close to Freya (not that she couldn't handle him on her own). However, Kenichi was surprised by how well Kuno got along with Thor, the sumo wrestler (due to their shared love for Japanese traditions and romanticism) and how, all in all, the Eight Valkyries tolerated him.
Granted, Tatewaki likely fancied the idea of forming a personal harem out of them, but the girls—cut from the same cloth as the others—appreciated having another weapons user in the group. Occasionally, Shigure would even take Kuno to train at the Shinpaku headquarters on Thursday afternoons.
Mousse, on the other hand, remained the most mysterious of them all. Despite Kenichi's efforts, he never managed to get the chinese young man to join the weekly outings with the others.
Mousse always had something else to do, and while his refusals were polite, Kenichi found his calculated, cold, and distant demeanor somewhat suspicious. It felt like he was preoccupied with something important he couldn't share.
Ranma, however, didn't seem to mind—perhaps because he trusted Mousse anyway or simply knew him better and didn't find it strange.
As for Ryoga… the pigtailed boy wasn't exaggerating when he said Ryoga had a terrible sense of direction. Ryoga spent more than half the week lost somewhere, trying to find his way back to Ryozanpaku—even though his tent was pitched on the main lawn!
As a result, he only trained with Apachai three times a week.
Still, those three days seemed sufficient for Ryoga to make rapid progress—though he struggled to adapt—proving that anyone capable of rivaling Ranma must indeed be strong.
As for Ranma, the only thing about him that bothered Shirahama was his afternoon disappearances, which had been recurring for months.
Why couldn't he tell them what job he was doing?
Was he involved in something shady?
Or was it just an excuse to meet a girl?
Yet, from what Ranma had shared, he didn't seem to have recovered from his breakup with that Akane, so Kenichi doubted it. He didn't think Ranma was capable of committing crimes (he'd be foolish to, with all the time spent around Sakaki), mainly because Kenichi sensed his fundamentally good nature. After their one argument following their fight, they had gotten along wonderfully.
Indeed, the words Ranma had spoken to him back then had unsettled him:
"You don't truly love martial arts; you just use them."
Not just because of their meaning—Kenichi was, in fact, reflecting on that—but because of how Ranma had said it. Almost with disdain.
And that reminded him of something.
The same words had been said to him in the past by an enemy like Kajima Satomi.
Isn't it strange that Ranma said the same thing as a mortal enemy?
"Nah, what am I thinking? Ranma's a good guy."
Meanwhile, the "good guy" had decided to train Kisara to help her master the Dou Ki.
That's one of the things that intrigued me about her… She can fight in a trance-like state, similar to the Neko Ken… but she can enter and exit it intentionally. Is it because of her obsession with cats? And here I thought I knew odd people…
"Alright, Kisara," Ranko began, "as we discussed, you can fight by identifying with a cat. Now, fighting so fiercely is a manifestation of Dou Ki, but you can't use it consciously. Since I use Sei Ki myself, it'll be a bit harder to train you, but I'll take it as a challenge…"
"Alright, Master," Kisara replied, though she practically had a question mark floating over her head.
"To get used to fighting like a cat, I need you to act like a cat for three whole days. And I brought something to help."
"To start…"
And she dumped a sack full of catnip on her.
"What are you doing?!"
"Let's just say… it'll help you get into character… and stimulate the animals in that sack."
"Is that… wild animal scent? Are there cats in there?"
"Not exactly," Ranko replied, swiftly opening the sack like a magician pulling a tablecloth without dropping the dishes.
"Are those… dogs?!"
"Exactly. Cats' natural enemies. I figured, despite everything, you might need… a little incentive!"
Once freed from their cages, the dogs, smelling the catnip, mistook Kisara for a feline and began chasing her.
"Master! This is too much!"
"Silence! Remember, you're a cat! I'm not seeing the proper movements yet!"
Cursing under her breath, Kisara started running on all fours, trying to evade the dogs. She began jumping onto walls, roofs, lamp posts, hedges—anything to shake them off.
Okay… this should do it. I mean, I hope I didn't go too far… What I did isn't the same thing my father did to me… right? Kami, forgive me…
Three days later, Ranko ventured into a small urban grove.
There she saw Kisara crouched behind a bush, gnawing on a fish.
She looked fiery. Surely, what Ranma was sensing was Dou Ki.
He knelt and began calling softly:
"Mch, mch, mch… come here, nice kitty…"
(To overcome his fear of Kisara's cat-like behavior, Ranma had undergone special training: he sat in front of a mirror with a photo of Kisara and one of Miu's cats, alternating between the two while saying, "This is Kisara… and this is a cat," slapping himself whenever he grimaced. By the end, his cheek was red as a tomato, but he was confident he wouldn't flinch even if he heard her meow.)
"Come here, nice kitty… look what I have for you," he said, pulling out two dishes, one with grilled fish and the other with milk.
Kisara leapt forward happily and curled up on his lap, purring.
"Good kitty. Now have your milk."
While watching one of the Saturday duels between the disciples (specifically Renka and Kenichi), Ranma found himself reflecting on how he now considered Ryozanpaku his home.
His life had been turned upside down over a year ago, and he had lost everything he once had. It had been tough starting from scratch and saying goodbye to everyone he knew (though he had since reconnected with some). But now, he felt he had found a new balance.
He had important people in his life again, he was living with his mother, and he was doing what he loved most.
He enjoyed training there, he enjoyed training Kisara (he didn't even mind too much having to transform into a woman to do it, to his surprise), he liked spending time with Kenichi, Miu, Renka, and the guys from the Shimpaku Alliance on weekends, like normal people... and he liked what he had with Miu, whatever it was.
He was brought out of those thoughts by a particularly effective parry from Kenichi.
The First Disciple of the Ryozanpaku, Ranma realized, had made tremendous progress since he had first seen him and since they had fought. His movements were more fluid, he took far fewer hits, he thought more about which moves to use, chained them together effectively, and blended various martial arts techniques seamlessly. One could faintly glimpse the "art" element in martial arts... a personal style, so to speak.
Ranma found himself wondering if it was also thanks to him, because of how he had reorganized Kenichi's training.
At the time, even doing that had seemed like an incredible step; he wouldn't have imagined, just a few months later, that he would directly take on a disciple.
Training someone, Ranma realized, had non-trivial, even fascinating aspects. For someone who was already capable of doing something—whether they had always been able to or had painstakingly learned—it wasn't a given that they could explain it to someone else.
Sometimes it was hard to teach because you took it for granted, or, conversely, you assumed the student would face the same difficulties you had... which might not be the case, or they might encounter entirely different ones you'd never imagined.
"Masters are unpredictable on purpose; beginners are unpredictable by accident."
It was an old martial arts saying that his father sometimes repeated to him.
Ah, yes, his father. Ranma realized that he... sometimes missed the old Genma.
He hadn't been too upset when Nodoka had kicked him out of the house, but deep down, he felt guilty. When that disaster with Akane and Ryoga had happened, Ranma had snapped and told everyone exactly what he thought of them.
This had many consequences: for instance, Shampoo had given up on him, and Mousse had given up on Shampoo. But letting it slip that Genma had hidden Nodoka's existence from him for so many years had caused a rift between his parents.
That old bastard deserved it, no doubt. I suffered from not having a mother.
But... now that I'm training Kisara, I often find myself thinking the way he would. Respecting him more as a martial artist, even if not as a man. Understanding how deeply he influenced me. A large part of my strength, no doubt... is thanks to him.
Training Kisara, Ranma realized, had other consequences as well.
Having to explain to someone else things that were obvious to him forced him to reflect on them. He realized he knew a lot of things without knowing he knew them. And in explaining them to someone, he understood them better himself.
He could swear he had improved as a martial artist simply by exercising his brain to train the girl.
Moreover, and this had significant consequences for many others, directly training someone made Ranma realize one thing.
Making someone do physical training, with weights or otherwise, at the start of a lesson, as they did at Ryozanpaku, was a mistake. It was better to train flexibility first, then some cardiovascular endurance, then focus on technique for most of the session, and leave strength training for last.
That way, the practitioner wasn't tired and was sharper when working on technique. Then they trained strength, ending the session exhausted but reinforcing the very muscles they had used for technique, making it even more efficient.
Ranko thus made this change to Kisara's routine, and noticing its effectiveness, chose to implement it for himself. He proposed this method to the Ryozanpaku Masters, and after recognizing its advantages, they went further: they adopted the solution for ALL their students. Kenichi, Miu, Renka, Ryoga, Mousse, Kuno, and all the Shimpaku members were thus slightly influenced by one of Ranma's ideas, even if trained by others.
The Masters suspected that Ranma was secretly training someone, but once again, they respected his privacy and said nothing. However, they seemed very pleased.
Such an unforeseen consequence had, at least a little, evolved the world of martial arts.
Hayato had said it: "Sometimes, Masters even learn from their disciples."
Who knows how many times it had already happened and how many more times it would happen in the future.
A few weeks later, Kisara finally succeeded.
She and Ranko leapt into the air simultaneously and began delivering a rapid flurry of kicks at each other.
Both struck each other's feet, and in doing so... they stayed suspended in mid-air, spinning on the spot, drawn by the centrifugal motion, like a mad merry-go-round.
Finally, after about a dozen seconds, Kisara lost her strength and let herself fall, landing on her knees on the ground.
"I... I... I DID IT! I really did it! I stayed suspended in the air! Isn't that right, Master?"
Ranko wore an entirely new expression.
"Yes... you did well, Kisara."
Later, Kisara was so tired from training and emotionally drained that she half-collapsed, dozing off on one of the training field's walls.
Ranko saw her, smiled briefly, approached her, and covered her with a blanket. But as she did, the Valkyrie nestled her head on Ranko's lap in her sleepiness and murmured something like, "Mmmh... Master... thank you... for everything..." before falling into a blissful sleep.
Ranma was a bit embarrassed by the position, as if he were a parent or an older sibling (well, a sister). Then, however, he sighed and smiled, resigned.
He found himself watching over his disciple's slow, steady breathing in the orange light of the sunset.
"Is this what it means... to be a Master?
Is this what they usually feel with Kenichi, Miu, Renka... and with me?
This... tenderness? This... pride?
Well... I have to admit... it's not so bad."
LATE NIGHT; UNKNOWN LOCATION
Two figures appeared in the shadows, one with a male voice, the other female.
M: The operation went well, it seems.
F: Yes, though it was more complex and lengthy than expected.
M: But the important thing is that the Katsujinken faction suspects nothing. Now... we have everything we need.
F: Yes, infiltrating the arms smuggling operation to bring our cargo into Japan…without anyone noticing, was an excellent idea.
Neither the government authorities nor the Ryozampaku members could imagine the truth. Heck, even the smugglers themselves don't realize they were being used by us.
M: Hiring those two to protect the cargo was worth it. Since Yami split, and the traitors collaborated with our enemies to stop the Eternal Sunset, we no longer fight together, it's true…but we still use the same intermediaries to find work as mercenaries. Influencing the selection of those two as Guardians was easy, and even they suspect nothing.
F: But in the end, old Sogetsu didn't join the fight. We risked him finding out.
M: Fortunately, that didn't happen. Sure, the weapons were seized…including the crates. But it's in the double bottoms of those crates that we hid the particular chemicals we need for the operation. It took time to create the secret compartments to hide them…the ships from Indonesia had to work day and night to get it all done.
That's why it was crucial for the crates to be physically unloaded, at any cost, to the point where we gave that specific assignment to the Guardians…the smugglers being arrested is a secondary detail. For Yami, it makes no difference whether we recover the contents from the Yakuza or the police warehouses…we have enough people on our payroll there as well.
F: We did well to invent a double cover story: one for the Coast Guard and another to tell our accomplices, in case they got caught. That way, no one will ever suspect the true reason for that prolonged stop at sea.
Still, it's a shame Noyamura got caught by the Ryozampaku. His talents could've been useful to us again.
M: We'll find another solution for when we need to ship out the next cargo, since we can't count on him to prepare fake shipping documents. It might slow the operation down, but not by much.
F: Yes, and with the experience we've gained, we have a very clear understanding of Japanese maritime security measures. Now we can get things and people in and out of the country without anyone noticing.
M: So, the final and most crucial part of the plan can begin.
F: Not so fast. Our scientists haven't yet replicated the exact formula, not even with the notes you acquired for them. It could take months: crossing the boundaries between science and magic isn't something that happens every day.
M: Patience. In the meantime, we'll continue monitoring the targets and will act only when we're ready…and to ensure maximum security, we'll bring those individuals into the country only at the last moment.
F: Both options carry risks: bringing them in gradually over time increases the chance someone will notice…on the other hand, bringing them all in at once makes it absolutely impossible to leave no traces, but it will also give our opponents less time to prepare countermeasures. Let's think this through.
The real issue…is the surveillance of the targets. If any of our spies were to be noticed by one of the targets…or someone else…
M: Are you worried…that HE might notice?
F: You know it, he's lived in both worlds, he knows how we think…He could figure out our purpose, and he's spent a lot of time putting obstacles in our path. For now, he can't grasp our plan, but if he contacts THEM, he could cause us trouble.
M: They won't make it…we'll act so quickly, they won't even realize what hit them.
F: Umph…however, this time there are unknowns…new players will be joining the game.
M: Yes, they seem like interesting subjects to study…I'd prefer to let them grow at their own pace, to possibly use them in the future…but if they get in the way…they'll be crushed!
OPERATION PYGMALION must face no obstacles!
Glossary
*: More precisely, in Japanese martial arts, these three stages are called Shu-Ha-Ri, where Shu is the first phase (meaning "obey"), Ha is the second ("detach"), and Ri is the third ("separate").
**Ougi: Final or Ultimate Move. This term is often used in video games as well.
***Catnip: Scientifically known as Nepeta Cataria, it's a plant of the Lamiaceae family. It contains a substance analogous to feline pheromones (or those of felines in general) that has a stimulating effect on them, causing them to rub against it, lick it, and roll over it. The neuroactive effects of this plant on cats are often exaggerated in many mangas.
****: This saying genuinely exists in Japanese martial arts.
Author's Note:
Well, here we are.
Ranma and Miu's relationship has started and stayed secret...and it's mostly physical.
It was time to go on with the trainings...and to develop a little Kisara's character, and her relationship with "Ranko", to the point where they have a genuinely human connection and mentorship.
Ranma also is evolving as a teacher and also searching for new finishing techniques, understanding what he lacks to reach Master level
He even started quoting Hayato's words of wisdom
And we get an insight on Kisara's feelings and motivations...that i wanted to add as an original component...and find similarities between them two.
Of course, finally this "double identity" of Ranma comes to fruition...as "Ranko" he can explain his life to someone else...seeing it from a different perspective...even opening up to somebody, since he's pretending he's speaking about "someone else". It's a necessary trial of growth he couldn't have undergone otherwise.
And something more about the interactions of the new students of Ryozanpaku, especially in their social life together.
And a development of the overarching mistery...with two villains explaining, like in old cartoons (XD) their evil plan...that we still do not know the details about...hard times are coming!