Kisara's Determination
For a few days, life at Ryozampaku had become more lively and energetic. Kuno had started training with Shigure, even though it was agreed that he would only come on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings (much to everyone's chagrin, once they saw the thick wad of bills he pulled out for payment).
Ranma had seen him training with her diligently and with unexpected seriousness.
Miu and Kenichi had barely met him since they trained in the afternoon after school (Tatewaki had, nonetheless, bowed and kissed Miu's hand during their only encounter, causing disapproving looks from both Kenichi and Ranma).
All the other new members trained on the following days: Ukita on Thursday and Friday afternoons with Akisame, the three from Shimpaku on Thursday afternoons with Sakaki, Renka every afternoon with her father (crossing paths with Kenichi on Wednesday and Thursday, much to Miu's dismay). On Saturday afternoons, Shigure helped the Valkyries.
Ranma, who always trained in the morning, while the others were at school, had this schedule: he always had lunch and dinner with his mother, then spent a lot of time at Ryozampaku in the afternoons as well—sometimes snacking, sometimes reading manga or magazines, or chatting with the unoccupied masters, but mainly observing Kenichi's training (Miu's training was still shrouded in strict secrecy, and the heir of the Saotome School had no doubt that the Elder had specific reasons for this).
However, many afternoons didn't mean all afternoons. In fact, Ranma had gotten into the habit of wandering from one neighborhood to another, and on a couple of occasions, he had even gone out for a drink with his old classmates Hiroshi and Daisuke (carefully avoiding any talk regarding Akane).
Ever since Ryozampaku had become more crowded, he often felt the need to spend time alone to organize his thoughts. The training he was undergoing there, though tough, was helping him make extraordinary progress in a short time. But, to his great surprise, Ranma realized that training wasn't everything in life.
During those solitary walks, which he took without a real destination, he found himself thinking about many things, not least that he should find a job. He had, indeed, paid Ryozampaku in advance for a year and still had quite a bit of money from jobs he had done months earlier, which he used to contribute to household expenses.
But he thought that, for his own sake and Nodoka's, he should, now that Genma wasn't around (who, in any case, had never been a model of providing for the family), fully take on the role of "man of the house" and bring home the bread, regularly.
But how?
He certainly hadn't completed his training, so he could only work in the afternoons.
And since his life revolved between Ryozampaku and his mother's house, he couldn't stray too far from the area between those two neighborhoods.
As for what kind of work to do, he had no idea. A few months earlier, in the mountains, he had done odd jobs, using his superhuman abilities to complete tasks (mostly transporting materials during transport strikes) that would have taken others days or weeks in a short amount of time.
But, apart from the fact that he didn't want to take food out of the mouths of honest workers, this kind of strikebreaking was much more difficult in an urban environment.
It's really absurd… all this started because I was supposed to inherit the Indiscriminate Martial Arts School… and thus spend my life as an instructor.
But all I know how to do is fight… teaching is something different, even though I'm getting some practice with Kenichi's exercises.
My father and Soun were convinced that you couldn't teach martial arts without physically owning a dojo… could they have been right?
Lately, even Ryozampaku is overflowing with students, and a lot of that is thanks to me… I should be getting a percentage, if you think about it…
As he reflected, there was a figure following him from a distance, hiding behind every corner, pole, or trash can they encountered.
Or I could look for work in a restaurant… cooking is the only other thing I really know how to do… I'd need to figure out the schedule and…
"Hey, come out! You think I didn't notice you?" he suddenly shouted.
The figure slowly emerged from behind a tree, as if the slowness reflected the surprise of being caught.
"Tsk… you're really skilled… I thought I was being discreet," commented the girl through clenched teeth, both embarrassed and impressed at the same time.
It was Kisara.
"Your idea of 'discreet' isn't the same as mine. To my senses, you were like an elephant in a china shop, and your sneaking around was disturbing my thoughts. You're the girl called… Kisara Nanjo, right? Kenichi and Miu's friend who's with Shimpaku. What do you want from me? And hurry up."
Kisara seemed surprised and unusually meek. She realized, although she didn't usually pay much attention to etiquette, that they had never formally introduced themselves, and she couldn't really do it properly now, as he already knew her name. Embarrassed, and clearly out of practice with formalities, she made a stiff and exaggerated bow, shouting,
"Y-yes, that's my name, Mr. Ranma Saotome. I'm Kisara Nanjo. Pleased to meet you, and I apologize for the rudeness of the other day and for attacking you."
She remained bowed, silent, as the wind blew the dust around. Ranma was very perplexed.
"Well, I can't say I expected that. You didn't seem like a formal person, although I personally don't care much about our country's obsession with etiquette. As for the rest… there's no need to apologize, what does it matter? The past is the past."
"Well, the thing is—" Kisara stammered, still facing the ground, even though it must have been a tremendous effort—"I know it doesn't seem like it, but I'm from a good family, even though I'm the black sheep who spends her time fighting, and I don't often use the manners I was taught. But I realize we got off on the wrong foot, and… especially, because I came to ask you a favor."
"For heaven's sake, raise your head and stop using 'sir.' What is it about? You're not still talking about…?"
"About Ranko, yes, or whatever her name is!" exclaimed the girl, standing up straight, her tone pleading. "I… realize that it might be an impulse… or a whim… no, let's call it instinct. My instinct tells me that she's the right person to be my master! And even if she's not… I think I have the right… to meet her, to try and convince her, and… even if she says no, to hear it from her directly!"
Ranma found himself sighing.
Now, how do I get out of this?
Kisara continued, "I… understand that we don't know each other and that… you have no reason to do me a favor. But I ask you to at least make an attempt, for the sake of your relationship with Kenichi and Miu. They… are the people who changed my life… and they changed the lives of all the others in Shimpaku too… to think, before meeting them, we were all delinquents, they must have told you… and now, instead… we pursue the path of TRUE martial arts… but unlike them… or Takeda, the boxer, I don't have someone who can guide me… so, to be able to continue standing by their side… to fight alongside them, to laugh with them… I need to become stronger. Since you practice martial arts, I think you can understand."
Almost the same words as Ukita.
Ranma breathed in with his arms crossed.
"I understand what you mean. I respect your reasons, I really do. But I'll tell you again, Ranko isn't the right person for you. She has… no idea how to train a disciple, she's never done it in her life, and… I think for her, it would just be a bother."
Kisara swallowed and looked Ranma square in the eyes.
"You know her very well. Who is she?"
For a long moment, no one said a word.
"My twin sister."
Ranma was the most surprised of all to hear those words come out of his mouth. Even because of the simplicity of the solution: why had he never used that excuse before? It was so obvious, so believable.
"I knew it!" said Kisara, with a triumphant gesture. "And... if I may ask, what kind of relationship do you have? Where is she now? Would she agree to listen to me if you asked her?"
"You're really stubborn. I don't know where Ranko is; she's always been reckless and only does what she wants. She could be right in front of you or halfway around the world, who knows. I was telling the truth, even if you didn't want to believe me. She's definitely not training at the Ryozampaku, that's for sure. Miu and Renka are still the only women there.
But, if you've seen Ranko around here," he continued with a kinder smile, "maybe she's hanging around the area, and one of these days, you might see her again. If that happens, you can ask her anything you want directly. That's all I can tell you. See you!" he concluded with a wave of his fingers, turning his back to her.
"Hey! No, wait! But... I still have a ton of questions for you, and..."
There was no "And..." Ranma sped off at an impressive speed, leaving Kisara frozen in place. But after an initial moment of shock, the girl regained her usual composure.
"What does that jerk think? If he thinks I'll give up so easily..."
And she launched herself into pursuit.
Ranma had put several hundred meters between himself and Kisara, darting through alleyways, and he felt safe now.
If it weren't for the fact that, just as he passed by, a hydrant exploded, sending a column of water dozens of meters into the air.
An old man passing by, leaning on a cane, commented,
"Ah, I've been telling the district representative for years that hydrant wasn't safe, but they never replaced it. What times we live in, young lady, what is the world coming to, I ask you..."
The "young lady" was still standing there, dripping like Niagara Falls, with an expression of shock and disbelief.
I'm starting to think the curse of Jusenkyo doesn't just involve the transformation... but this darn rotten luck too...
Right then, attracted by the water column, Kisara appeared, out of breath, from around a corner.
"Oh! But... but you are... so it was true that I could find her around here!"
Misfortunes never come alone, that's for sure.
"I found you! Master, I mean Ranko, I mean miss, I mean..."
Kisara threw herself to the ground, on her knees.
"Good morning, miss, I'm Kisara Nanjo, pleased to meet you. I'm immensely grateful for your help that time!"
"Ranko" was a bit shocked but had to play along.
"Oh, um... and who are you... strange girl that I don't know at all?"
Kisara raised her gaze from the ground, looking slightly hurt. "But... well, maybe you don't remember... about a week ago... a Lucha Libre practitioner was chasing you... and I joined in to ask you something... then we ran into a Kempo practitioner, attacked by members of the Triads... a battle broke out... and you saved us... and you told me your name... Miss Ranko."
Ranko put a hand on her neck and burst out in an exaggerated laugh, terribly acted.
"Ohoho! Of course! Of course! How silly of me! But you don't need to thank me, it was nothing. I do stuff like that every day, I can't remember it all. Well, if that's all, I really have to go and..."
"NO! ONE MORE THING!"
Bingo!
"I NEED TO ASK YOU SOMETHING! I ALSO MET YOUR BROTHER RANMA, MISS, WHO'S TRAINING AT THE RYOZAMPAKU, AND I TOLD HIM TOO... I... I BEG YOU TO BECOME MY MASTER! PLEASE, TRAIN ME!"
Ranma had to pretend he hadn't heard the same story for the third time.
"Oh, but... well, I mean, I... I'm not a Master and... I don't take on students, I'm sorry. I'm just a humble martial arts practitioner, and in fact, my brother is much better than me—besides being a wise, kind, and rather handsome guy—but I don't think he takes on students either, to be honest. Well, as I was saying, I'm really in a hurry. Sorry I can't help you."
Kisara looked puzzled, not recognizing Ranma from that overly favorable description, but continued undeterred.
"I understand, but it would really mean a lot to me to at least TRY! I... I saw you fight and... and it was something I never dreamed of. As a martial artist... as a woman... it would be really important if you... reconsidered... and gave me just one chance... I'm willing to do anything... and of course, I'll pay you for the trouble..."
"Yes, but really, I... I've got... lunch on the stove, I really have to go," the redhead stammered, increasingly embarrassed, pretending to look at a wristwatch she didn't have.
But faced with Kisara's constant insistence, "Ranko" realized she would never get rid of her. So, she stretched her arms along her sides, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Even Kisara sensed her Ki and fell silent immediately.
"School of Indiscriminate Martial Arts. Saotome Style. Final Technique..."
Oooh, she's going to show me one of her techniques? Or... is she going to use it to get rid of me? Or is it a kind of test?
"...FAST BREAK!"
Raising an enormous cloud of dust, Ranko vanished from sight.
Kisara was paralyzed by shock, a huge sweat drop on her temple, and a nervous tic on her forehead. She couldn't believe her eyes.
"Was…was that a technique?"
"IS SHE MOCKING ME? Damn it, like brother, like sister!" the girl yelled, throwing her hat to the ground in frustration. "FINE! If she wants to play hide-and-seek, so be it! Nobody has ever snubbed Kisara Nanjo!" And she took off in pursuit.
Ranma made sure to take every alley, every narrow street, every detour, every turn, just to get rid of Kisara. It wasn't enough to be faster; he had to make sure she couldn't guess which way he went. Earlier, she had been lucky—the burst hydrant had drawn her attention—but now... what were the chances something else would guide her to the right area?
And just at that moment, an adorable little kitten crossed her path.
AAAAAH!
It sounded like someone had been torn apart alive. The girl stopped dead in her tracks.
"That voice... it's hers. But what could have happened? Anyway, it's coming from over there, near the market."
But when Kisara reached the alley, she saw no one.
"Damn it, she slipped away. That damned coward. But I'll find her again, as sure as my name is...
MY LOVELY LITTLE SWEETHEART, WHAT ARE YOU DOING ALL ALONE? COME HOME WITH KISARA!"
And throwing herself in pursuit of the brown kitten she only noticed at that moment, she ran off.
Ranma was still in shock, clinging to the lamppost above, which he had instinctively jumped onto the moment he noticed the feline danger. By some miracle, the nuisance hadn't looked up and hadn't spotted him. Still trembling and stammering, he descended to the ground half a meter at a time.
"Ki-Kisara, damn you... you've... ruined my day... I-I hope I never see you again."
Indeed, the next day, while walking around the Ryozampaku after lunch in his male form, Ranma found her following him again, this time openly, without even trying to hide. If he sped up, she sped up too. If he stopped, she stopped. If he pretended to look at shop windows, she did the same a few meters behind. After five minutes of trying to ignore her, he finally turned towards her and snapped,
"WHAT THE HECK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"
"The same thing as yesterday," replied the girl with a lazy expression, "I want you to let me talk to your sister Ranko. Yesterday I managed to meet her, but she refused to help me and ran off."
"And doesn't that give you a vague hint that she's not interested in your proposal, huh, Einstein?"
"Kisara Nanjo doesn't take 'no' for an answer. It's part of my creed as a martial artist. Sooner or later, I'll make her change her mind, but first, I have to find her again," she declared brazenly.
Ranma had to hold back from slapping her, as she was a girl.
"Well, MY creed as a martial artist includes not being bothered in the middle of the afternoon by spoiled, impertinent brats, so… goodbye!"
And he dashed off so fast that Kisara couldn't catch up.
The same scene repeated every day for a week. Ranma always tried different routes, but Kisara always found him, as she knew he'd eventually pass by Ryozampaku, sooner or later, either going in or coming out. And every time, the ponytailed boy outran the Taekwondo practitioner at full speed.
But one time, Kisara popped out just as a street vendor, carrying a tank of goldfish on a unicycle, tripped over a hole in the road, spilling his load all over Ranma. Ranma noted that such circumstances happened with suspicious frequency—and that's how the girl met Ranko again.
"A-Ah! I knew I'd find her! Uh? She's still soaking wet? How come?"
"You know how it is," Ranko replied, still annoyed, "It's so hot today... besides, swimming is a complete workout, and I thought, 'Why not go for a dip?'"
Sarcasm was lost on Kisara, though "Whatever... this time, you won't escape again!"
"In fact, I have no intention of doing so," Ranko replied seriously, "I know what you're up to. You need to stop bothering me and my brother, taking advantage of our patience! I know my brother gave you a lesson once, and I'll do the same!"
"Are you... challenging me to a duel?"
"And if I win, you'll leave both of the Saotome twins alone, got it? My brother is too kind, but I have no problem hitting girls!"
"Interesting!" Kisara's eyes lit up. "I'm in!"
A few seconds later, the girl was sprawled on the ground, bruised and beaten.
"And that's that," Ranko said, dusting her hands off, "We'll never see each other again. Have a nice life."
"She... she's incredible... even stronger than I saw before... there's no doubt, she MUST become my master... no one else can do it!"
Ranko couldn't believe her ears, her eyes practically popped out of their sockets.
"Whaaaat? But... the duel? The deal was that... oh, to hell with it, I'm going home."
"Go ahead. I know... how to wait."
The next day, Ranma decided to play offense. He appeared near Ryozampaku already transformed into Ranko, determined to end this once and for all. He didn't really want to seriously hurt Kisara, but he needed to scare her enough to make her back off.
So, when the girl with the beret appeared from around the corner and saw her, no longer surprised, Ranko didn't give her time to get closer or speak. She lunged at her at full speed, fists clenched.
I don't need to hurt her... just scare her...
But Kisara didn't flinch. Standing still, she smiled with a sly look, like someone holding a trump card.
And just before the redhead could strike, Kisara reached into her pocket.
A weapon?
Instead, she pulled out a wad of cash.
Ranko stopped so abruptly she almost left sparks on the asphalt.
"Can I buy you something?"
A few minutes later, Kisara was sitting at a table in a pastry shop, watching with surprise as Ranko devoured three large parfaits at supersonic speed and ordered a fourth. The fierce and intimidating martial artist had vanished, replaced by a girl behaving in a shamelessly childish manner. At times, she reminded her of Kushinada...
"Wow, you really don't hold back, huh?" Kisara asked, perplexed.
Ranko glared at her suspiciously, poking out from behind the massive ice cream cup, her lips smeared with dessert. If it weren't for that ridiculous detail, she might've looked like a guard interrogating a spy trying to pass a checkpoint.
"So, what do you want from me?"
"I've already told you a hundred times, and I told your brother too. I want you to be my martial arts master."
"Umph! I'm sorry to disappoint you," Ranko muttered dismissively, her mouth full of ice cream, "but I don't... take... students."
Kisara smiled sharply, sensing she had found Ranko's weak spot.
"If you accept, I'll pay you 200,000 yen a month." (Around 1,200 euros today, or 1380 dollars, author's note.)
Ranko almost choked on her parfait.
A long, suspicious silence followed.
"Do you really have that kind of money?"
Kisara pulled out another, even larger wad of cash and slammed it on the table with arrogance.
"Here's the first month! In advance, cash, on the spot!"
Ranko's eyes turned into cash registers. She looked a bit like Miu.
With that money, she could contribute to household expenses and still have plenty left over!
"I know I don't look like it," Kisara resumed after a dramatic pause, "but I'm a girl from a good family. My parents own a large company, and they give me a substantial monthly allowance to spend as I please. So, what do you say, do you accept?"
Ranma had to think for a moment.
He didn't want to give in so easily, but he was very tempted... looking at her sideways, he said,
"Are you really sure? My training is very tough. You won't start whining after a couple of days and want to quit?"
"Test me. I'm willing to do anything. But even if that happens, the money you got in advance is still yours."
"Why do you want to get stronger so badly?"
"Isn't it obvious? Every martial artist wants that! But, if you've spoken with your brother, you know I'm part of the Shimpaku Alliance, and we oppose the evil practitioners of Yomi. Some of us... have Masters, but I don't. And I'm afraid that sooner or later... I'll fall behind."
"And why should I be your Master?"
"Because I saw how you took care of those guys. Because I think your fighting style is similar to mine. And most importantly, because I want my martial arts Master to be a woman."
"Pff! What a stupid way of thinking! If you're serious about getting stronger, you need to abandon any kind of preconception. Setting unnecessary limits will get you killed!"
"It's not stupid! I've... always been underestimated because I'm a girl! Maybe... it's happened to you too, I think... you're so strong, maybe no one ever dared... And then, there's someone I admire a lot... Freiya-San, I mean Kaname Kugatachi, from Shimpaku... she's my senpai, but she fights differently... she uses weapons. I... don't think there's anything wrong with that, but I want to be able to reach her level while fighting with my own style."
Ranma was still not entirely convinced and kept sizing her up.
"And IF I decided to accept, when would you want to train? I'm busy every morning, just so you know."
"Eh? I mean... yeah, afternoons are fine, I'm busy in the mornings too."
"Five days a week."
"Sure, perfect."
"And where do you want to train?"
"There's a large field behind my family's estate. We could use that."
"We'll need equipment."
"I can get everything we need."
"If necessary, will you promise to follow any order I give?"
"Of course, Master."
"No arguments?"
"None."
"No matter how strange, bizarre, humiliating, or seemingly unrelated to training the order might seem?"
"Well... sure. I trust you completely."
"And you'll stop bothering me or my brother at other times of the day?"
"I solemnly promise."
"And you won't tell anyone I'm training you? Not Miu, Kenichi, or the Shimpaku Alliance?"
"If that's what you prefer, I'll keep it a secret."
"And if you see my brother, you'll act like nothing's happening."
"Okay."
"You'll shut that big mouth of yours when I ask?"
"Sealed."
"And you'll speak respectfully when addressed? 'Yes, Master, of course, Master, right away, Master' are the only phrases I want to hear from you."
"Yes, Master."
"Also, you won't talk to me about any private matters, nor ask me "Neither will you ask me to talk about my life? Just pretend I don't exist, that I emerged from the earth, have no family or friends, and care about nothing and no one."
"No chatter unless it concerns training."
Ranko stared at her a little longer. She recognized a determined expression when she saw one. She quickly finished her parfait, then let out a big sigh.
"Alright, if you insist, we could give it a try..."
Kisara had tears of joy in her eyes.
"Really? REALLY? Oh, you won't regret it, Master!"
"Impossible!—replied Ranko, grabbing the wad of bills, jumping off the chair, and tossing her the check—I'm ALREADY regretting it."
"Anyway," she added while heading to the exit, "I'm still not convinced you have what it takes to train with me. For a while, we'll do some TESTS. If you pass them, at the end, I'll officially accept you as my student, and the real training will begin."
"What? Tests? Yes, of course, anything."
A few minutes later, in an abandoned lot, Ranko explained what she meant.
"Today is Monday. Every day, for ONE MONTH, we'll meet at the same place and time as today. Each time, I'll give you a task to complete at home for the entire day. The next day, I'll check that you really did it, and give you the next one. If, by the end of the month, you've successfully completed them all, I'll start training you for real."
Kisara was worried and sweating slightly, but she was determined. "Sure."
"Alright then… to start, get into a handstand."
Kisara obeyed without difficulty.
"Can you walk on your hands?"
"Well…yes, of course."
"Great, then until tomorrow, you'll have to walk on your hands everywhere you go."
"WHAAAT? What?!"
"What's the matter? Can't handle it? Oh well, in that case…"
"No, no, I mean…I'll do it, for sure. But…why?"
"No arguing, remember? Tomorrow, IF you manage to do it, not only will I give you a new task, but I'll explain the meaning of today's."
"Uhrgh…fine, MASTER," replied Kisara, her face twisted with frustration.
As she watched her wobble away, Ranma thought, "Tsk! She won't last two days."
But the next day, while waiting for her, still as Ranko, lazily leaning against the wall where they had met the previous day, she began to hear faint counting.
"Twenty-seven thousand and one… twenty-seven thousand and two… twenty-seven thousand and three…"
Ranma couldn't believe his eyes. Kisara came around the corner, walking on her hands, and judging by how sweaty and disheveled she looked, she had really completed the task for the entire day.
"Twenty-seven thousand… and ten. Whew!"
The girl stopped, made one more effort, then with a somersault, got back on her feet. She tried to act tough, but after a couple of seconds, the blood rushed from her head, and she began to wobble a bit.
"Oops! All good! No problem! Hehe."
Ranko stared at her, wide-eyed. She really was ready for anything.
"So… what…what do we do today?" asked the dazed girl.
The redhead's expression changed. Perhaps this was getting interesting.
"Ahem! First, let's see if you've trained your brain as well as your arms. Why do you think I made you do this exercise?"
"Uh… honestly… I'm not sure? To try to push me to quit?"
"Yes, exactly, that was one of the reasons."
"What?!"
"Of course. I need to test your determination, your willpower, your seriousness, your ability to follow orders without questioning them, to see if you are, as you say, willing to do anything to become strong. And so far, so good. But there are two other reasons."
"And…what are they?"
"Ugh! A bit slow on the uptake, aren't we? First, your overall physical condition. The real training, if you ever get there, will be grueling, and I can't have you start it if you're not ready to handle it. And also because, as Ranma says, since you practice TaeKwonDo, you mostly use kicks in combat, so I figured you needed to strengthen your arms."
Kisara blinked. It was all so simple, so obvious, and at the same time…correct. She felt stupid for not having thought of it. Had this young woman figured out, with one glance, that she hadn't trained her arms in a long time?
"Now…I understand. So…I won't doubt anymore. What else do you want me to do, Master?"
Ranko was surprised to hear her so compliant.
It almost wasn't fun anymore.
"For the entire next day, walk backward, and every time you have to go around an obstacle, make wide semicircles around it, always keeping your back to it."
Her student looked at her as if she'd told her to eat dirt, but she was starting to suspect that part of her task was not to complain.
Beyond the appearance that her Master enjoyed making her do embarrassing and humiliating things (and who knows, there might be some truth to that), there was probably a specific reason behind even her strangest requests, so she said nothing.
Slowly, confusedly, she walked away as requested.
On Wednesday, Ranko met Kisara again, explaining that the exercise was meant to get her used to not moving in just one plane of space, to count her steps and be mindful of obstacles, and to move with rotations instead of straightforwardly. It also served to break down the subconscious fear of retreating to reposition herself while avoiding getting trapped if she had to do so.
She left her with instructions to spend the entire next day walking on all fours, which, in addition to strengthening all her limbs, improved coordination between them. (Ranma had seen her fight in a style resembling Neko Ken, so he figured she needed to train that mode of movement).
On Thursday, she asked her to move by climbing and hanging from suspended objects, like a monkey: electrical cables, street signs, shop signs, without touching the ground, and jumping from one grip to another. This was to improve agility, body weight management, and the ability to move in space by taking advantage of the elements in it, rather than seeing them as obstacles.
On Friday and Saturday, she asked her to spend the next days hopping on one leg only, first the right, then the left. This trained both the endurance and explosiveness of her legs, and her jumping ability, preventing one leg, stronger than the other, from compensating.
Finally, on Sunday, she asked her to take off her boots and spend the whole day walking barefoot. Despite the Nanjo heir almost being used to her Master's oddities and nearly completing the first week of the trial, her wide-eyed expression prompted the redhead to explain ahead of time.
"Oh, Kami, this one doesn't even seem that hard. You must have trained barefoot in a dojo before heading out to street brawls and using those heavy boots as a weapon."
"Well…yes, but…"
"You should know that the feet are extremely rich in nerve endings, which allow you to be very sensitive to the terrain. There are a lot of sensations you can't get while wearing shoes. Plus, ankle mobility is extremely limited with such heavy boots. And the variety of moves you can use is restricted by how you can move your leg and foot. Even though they're not as versatile as hands, feet can be used for kicks with the instep, the toe, the heel, edge… and even the first bone of the shin. All things you'll do better when you can move your leg more freely. Lastly, even though walking all day will give you blisters or even peel your skin off, later, the skin will grow back as tough as leather, and you'll be able to walk on any surface without a problem."
Tsk! She really wasn't kidding when she said it would be tough…but if she thinks I'll back down, she's dead wrong!
On Monday, seeing Kisara arrive with her feet blistered, bleeding, and wrapped in bandages, Ranko gave an imperceptible smile. Now she was sure the girl had the right spirit and that they could move forward.
There was still a lot of work to be done: her habit of relying solely on kicks had made her a bit stiff, so Ranko forced her (to her horror) to attend a breakdancing course for the entire second week.
In the third week (and here Kisara had to summon all her willpower not to explode), it was a Latin dance class.
Not only that, but Ranko didn't leave her side the whole time, filming her progress (to her great embarrassment) with a video camera she'd bought with the money she gave her.
However, by the start of the fourth week, the new student had to admit that those activities, seemingly unrelated to combat, had given her an unexpected fluidity of movement and the ability to move her body in space that she would soon be able to apply in a martial context.
She was beginning to understand, vaguely, what the School of Indiscriminate Martial Arts was about: not just training EVERYTHING related to martial arts, but…making ANY ACTIVITY a form of training. Turning EVERYTHING into a martial art.
The implications of what she'd realized almost made her dizzy: how hard would it get from here on?
But on the other hand…is this how she trained, too? Does that mean I could become as strong as her?
"Very well, Kisara Nanjo. I'm pleased with how you completed all the tasks, and you've likely realized how, in various ways, they've benefited you. Each of them had the side effect of breaking your usual way of doing things, pushing you out of your comfort zone, making you think outside the box, and training muscles you normally wouldn't use. Additionally, mental flexibility is absolutely essential for training in the Indiscriminate Martial Arts."
"Yes, Master."
"Now, however, I'm going to ask you to do something, if possible, even more difficult. It is absolutely crucial to be able to use all your limbs to perfection. In your case, since you mostly fight using kicks, it's essential that you learn to use your feet with as much skill and precision as your hands. So I'm asking you…"
The silence was palpable.
"To tie both your hands behind your back and use your bare feet to perform your daily tasks: opening doors, eating, brushing your teeth, changing clothes, turning the pages of your textbooks, etc. Just as someone without arms would. By the end of a week, you should be used to it."
"WHAAAT? But... Master... that... that's impossible!"
Poor Kisara knew she couldn't talk back, but she was more exasperated than angry. Worse: she was discouraged.
At those words, Ranko swiftly kicked off one of her shoes, pulled a marker out of her pocket, grabbed it between two toes, and made rapid and precise movements as if slashing with a sword.
Then she dropped the marker, picked up a small mirror with her foot, and pointed it towards her student's face.
She had written something on Kisara's face with the marker, backward, so that it could be read in the mirror:
COWARD
Upon seeing those words, a vein bulged on Kisara's forehead. Clenching her fists and gritting her teeth, eyes cast downward, she threw her hat to the ground in frustration and shouted,
"FINE! Since apparently, there's no other way to earn the chance to train with you, I'll do it. I just hope all these stupid trials will be worth it!" she grumbled, already starting to tie her hands by herself, using her teeth to tighten the knot.
Ranko was satisfied and refrained from scolding her for the brief moment of frustration.
"Oh, trust me, it'll be more than worth it. See you in a week."
The heir of the Nanjo family stormed off, seething with anger.
And to think I even paid for all this...
But the following week, a completely different Kisara showed up.
Poised, composed, and relaxed, she finally looked like the well-bred young lady she was supposed to become, instead of the foul-mouthed delinquent she had grown into. She greeted her Master with a bow, then pulled some teacups from a backpack she was carrying, set them beside a portable kettle, heated water, poured tea into the cups, handed one to Ranko, and took another for herself, sipping quietly.
And she did all this using only her feet.
Her hands were still tied behind her back, now with handcuffs, and she had obviously washed up and changed clothes since the previous week, meaning she had learned to perform even those tasks using her feet as if they were hands, like a monkey would.
Ranko was genuinely impressed.
"Not bad. Really, not bad at all."
Kisara gave another bow, then took out the keys to the handcuffs and, with a contortionist-like twist, freed herself.
At that point, she pulled a wad of bills from her wallet—payment for the second month of training—and tossed them to the redhead, who caught them effortlessly.
Then the Nanjo heiress took out a pair of shoes with sturdy soles that left her ankles exposed and put them on. Ranko noticed she was wearing denim shorts instead of her usual pants with one leg cut off.
"Let me see."
The Master grabbed Kisara's arms in her hands and, with swift massages worthy of a professional, reactivated the blood circulation.
Only then did the girl speak, expressing her surprise.
"Wow… It's like I never even stopped using them."
The redhead gave her a barely perceptible smile. The two women, standing a few steps apart, exchanged a look of mutual understanding and respect. No words were needed. Kisara now fully trusted her Master, having gone through all the stages of doubt, frustration, and anger, realizing that Ranko's strange methods always had a reason behind them.
For her part, Ranko had developed a newfound respect for someone she was now ready to consider her student.
Well, we've come this far. Let's keep going.
"Alright," said the young redhead finally. "Show me what you can do."
Kisara's big cat-like eyes lit up.
"Sure!"
After five minutes of sparring, the girl was even happier about becoming Ranko's student. She was truly extraordinary. She dodged every single attack effortlessly, as if reading Kisara's mind, and each time Kisara left an opening, Ranko pointed out the mistake by stopping just an inch from her body and hissing, "Zap! You're dead!" After thirty-six "ZAPs," Kisara realized that defense might not be her strong point.
Panting, as she rested, she heard her Master summarize her abilities.
"My brother's assessment—yes, he told me about your fight at the Shimpaku Alliance headquarters—was accurate. Your kicks are excellent, but you lack variety in your attack patterns. Also, you're not as good at defending. You try to make up for it by constantly attacking, leaving no openings for a counterattack, but that only works against weaker opponents. It also tires you out faster. You don't have any truly decisive moves that can break through any defense. And if your opponent already knows you'll be attacking with kicks, they always know what to expect. No matter how fast you are, it's impossible to feint effectively. Oh, and you prefer dodging to blocking. But if your opponent counterattacks, your reflexes won't be fast enough. There are other flaws, but these are the main ones."
Extraordinary! She noticed all those things from just this short sparring session... Yes, I definitely made the right choice.
All that effort was worth it to be able to learn from her…
"Kisara, for now, let's try this."
"How?"
"Attack me only with punches."
WHAAAT?
…or maybe not...
"O-only with punches? But..."
"Of course. Did you think that just because you prefer kicking, I'd only teach you kicks? You're mistaken, my dear. I was paid to teach you MARTIAL ARTS, and I'll teach you martial arts, which, like it or not, aren't just the styles you prefer. And if I notice that fighting with punches is a weakness of yours, I'll correct that by teaching you how to fight with punches. Am I clear?"
Kisara swallowed nervously.
"Alright, but... I've just spent a week with my arms tied up."
"Pff, and what difference does that make? I bet it's been YEARS since you've thrown a single punch at an opponent, am I wrong?"
"Ugh! Well, actually…"
"And if an opponent knows you only attack with kicks, you'll always be predictable. Start mixing it up. In TaeKwonDo, they must've taught you how to punch too, but you chose to focus on your strengths, right? I'm here specifically to make you do not what you want, but what you need most. And listen up, if you throw even a single kick, even if it's instinctual, I will hit you."
Tsk! Fine! I brought this on myself...
"Uoooooh!"
For the rest of the afternoon, from the field where they were training, Kisara's frustrated grunts and Ranko's mocking remarks could be heard. "You suck! My grandma throws punches better than that!"
I definitely didn't realize what I was getting myself into...
During training, Ranko didn't lose focus for even a second.
But towards the end, Kisara was so exhausted that she allowed herself to relax a little.
And it was only for a moment.
A feeling, a perception from the Sixth Sense.
She quickly glanced to her left.
A bush seemed to move. Then everything went back to normal.
Was it just the wind? Or did I imagine it?
As a shadow quietly retreated from the edge of the training field, a tall, strong man, well-dressed with blonde hair, watched from the rooftop of a building.
Saiga Furinji didn't seem too pleased with what he saw.
So, they've started moving. This isn't good… not good at all... soon there will be a crisis.
I just wonder... what's their real goal?
Author's Note:
Well, this was a funny chapter!
Kisara was destined to have something to do with Ranma and now you see why Ranko's secret identity had to be kept that way: well, some of the reason at least.
Ranma needs to mature and he's probably at the point where he can teach and be a sensei himself, even though he wouldn't have done it spontaneously.
It was mentioned in passing Kisara's parents were rich, and Ranma needs money, so it only makes sense.
I'm also a sucker for training scenes, so here and now there's gonna be unnecessarily long and detailed descriptions of people training and how and why.
Kisara was abandoned, at some point, in the original Kenichi story, so i felt she deserved to have more space.
Also, this bickering is funny; although Kisara is now in the uncomfortable position of being meeky and submissive.
Now, an information: from this point on, the fanfiction will change. Each chapter would be dedicated, more or less, to a single, major plot point that will bring the story forward.
There would still be all the side stories in the background, especially the relationships changing between all the characters.
Laying the ground for the story took longer than expected, now we're gonna get into some real action.
The fic is more or less divided into three blocks of around 10 chapters each, more or less.
There's gonna be surprises, there's gonna be emotions, sweat, tears, a looming menace you've just noticed here, and then...at some point it will all come together
Keep following