Ranma of St. Bacchus, Chapter 12
by Chaos Orchid
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"Clothes announce to the world: Beware! You are a martial artist! But there are other clothing that serve the same purpose. Be ware..."
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Into the Stretch
"Why am I here and not in America? Why am I forced to learn to speak and think in Japanese? Why am I having to be a martial arts rhythmic gymnast?"
"Sure. Why not," 'Ran' said. It felt rare to have somebody to talk to at camp time, while waiting for sleep. It did not feel bad.
Noa rolled onto her back and looked at the ceiling herself. "It all began with my dad, I think. My real dad."
Suddenly she was back to trying to speak Japanese. "I sorry; I sorry! You no speak English!"
"It's okay; it's okay. I may not speak it, but I do seem to understand it. Mostly. Go ahead. I'd have an even harder time explaining things in my English than you in your Japanese. And your listening skills are better than mine if you can understand my bad Japanese grammar."
Noa went back to the comfort of her native language. "I can understand you pretty well, as well!" And she laughed. And went, briefly, into Japanese. "Maybe because me speak bad grammar, help me hear your bad grammar more good!" It was able to get a chuckle from 'Ran'.
In English again: "My dad, my real dad. He inherited the company. He was never happy running it, I guess. When he could no longer keep his mind on his work, he asked for a divorce from mom. She got the majority of the stock in O'Hara Wig and Weave. My dad? He cashed in his shares and took off, doing whatever it is he's doing nowadays.
"It was then my mom's turn to run the company. She was worse at it than dad! She looked around for somebody to buy the company from her. That's where my step-dad comes in. Hara Masa. He liked the "O" in O'Hara, because an "o" prefix can be an honorific in Japanese. He agreed to marry mom just so he could legally and fairly easily change his name to Ohara. Remember, that Japanese law just says that a married couple has to have the same family name; it doesn't say that it is the wife who has to take her husband's name.
"Well, my mom was too much like my dad. As soon as she got her money, she took off to wherever, too. That left him with me, his step-daughter, a minor and his responsibility. Surprisingly, he takes his responsibilities seriously. He is a man of honor. I guess. He's set up a trust fund. I'll have enough money to do exactly what dad and mom did and do just about anything I want to do. But first I have to graduate.
"Why send me to a school where I can be seriously hurt? Is it a murder plot? If I die, he gets his trust fund money back.…(?)
"I've wondered if that's why I'm here. …But maybe it's not. I think he thinks this is the best way for me to learn to be more responsible than my real folks are. Maybe. Or maybe it's just another of his hair-brained ideas. He is a wig maker. Hair is his fetish." And she rubbed her very short hair, remembering what she had lost to one of his special wigs.
"Any way, if I do graduate, I'll have learned healing techniques! I'll be able to do things even dad and mom can't do."
"Healin' techniques(?)" 'Ran' filled the empty seconds that followed (a very un-Japanese thing to do. But, then, (she) was listening in English.) "I feel pretty sure I have them. Somewhere in my body." And (she) let out a deep breath. "Maybe I do for the same reason you're learnin' yours: I hadda learn or stay hurt.
"Man! What a rotten way to get a skill! If I ever remember who did the terrible things that must've happened to me, I'm gonna beat him down until he can't get up!" Did that mean (she) did or (she) didn't want (her) memories back? They would include (her) pain.
"Him? Male?" Noa asked, back into Japanese.
"Sure! Aren't most of the trouble caused by guys out there?"
"Not all."
"Well, I wouldn't know, would I, seein' as I don't remember much of anything before I woke up this afternoon. Geez! It's only been a few hours and so much has happened already? Is that what's my life is gonna be like?" And (she) pondered on (her) name: Ran: Wild …Revolt, Riot, War…chaos.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the dorm room door. Mao answered it. "It's Ryōma-san!"
The male teacher held up some tote bags. "These are from Ōno-sensei, I mean Kasumi-san. There's also an excuse note and an official form in here that allows Yamada Ran to wear the clothing in here. Instead of the regulation school uniform."
"Fine! Fine!" 'Ran' waved them off. "Leave 'em. I'll wear 'em when I hafta."
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(She) yawned and stretched after just waking up. (She) swung (her) legs around and onto the floor. (She) scratched her nude bod. "Huh?" (she) asked (her)self, still half-asleep. There was something wrong with (her) body. It just didn't look and feel right. (She) parted (her) boobs to get more of a look at (her)self. (She) couldn't place a finger on it, but there was something wrong with (her) soft, smooth, puny, short,... the list went on.
If (she) bothered to inventory them. (She) didn't. (She) stood her full 150cm, 4'11", up. It was still dark. Very dark. (Except for the reading lamp on top of the American girl's footboard-desk.) (She) looked around for a window. There was none.
"Oh, that's right. There is none. Stupid buildin' not havin' any in a dorm room." (She) then wondered if (she) should keep her voice down. All the others were still asleep. "What? They don't got pre-dawn sparrin'? What kinda martial artists are they? The dōjō kind?"
Oh, well, there was nobody around to challenge (her) to a workout. Might as well go. There was no arguing with her bladder.
Sliding the bathroom door open–
"Ran!" the startled 165cm, 5'5", girl said, rising from the toilet, ready to use her bokken wooden sword. "Yamada Ran!" was her declaration she was ready to battle.
"I thought MĀRG rules say no weapon-weapons?"
"MĀRG…. Oh, the others did say you have the bad habit of abbreviating martial arts rhythmic gymnastics to mārugu."
"Only those who like to run their mouths off should want to go the full length. You could be attacked and have lost the battle while you were still saying something with too many syllables."
"Hmm. A fair observation. Back to the matter at hand." And she raised her sword again. Kendō-style, this time.
"Yamada Ran, this is not your turn nor that of any of those residing in Room 13!"
The 15cm, 6 inches, shorter redhead just looked at the idiot. "Do you really wanna fight me while I hafta go?"
The girl with more hair on top of her head than falling off of it proved not to be a great idiot. "You have scored a point. I will cede you this time in the facility." And she pulled up her samue pjs and exited through the door to her own dorm room.
"Man," (she) muttered. "Can't even close the door," (she) said, doing just that.
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Finding nobody to spar with in the hall, (she) finally returned to Room 13, chewing on vended takoyaki balls.
"Ran! You went outside nude?" Junko asked, concerned and frowning.
"Again!?" Noa asked, concerned and frowning for a different reason.
'Ran' looked down at (her) body. "Why shouldn't I be?" Then (she) remembered how wrong her bod had seemed when (she) had just woken up. Maybe she should hide it.
"Going naked in public is not polite," Yuna informed her.
"It's too early to be polite," 'Ran' said, going to her bed. There were tote bags on it. It took a moment for (her) to remember where they came from. "These're for me(?) I'm s'posed to be wearin' 'em when I'm bein' 'polite', right?"
On top of the neatly folded clothes were, "Underclothes?"
"School regs say you have to wear this type of sports bra and panties," Yuko informed her.
'Ran' tested the sketchiness of the underpants. Not just the waistband was stretchy, but the rest of it, too. Except for the crotch. Ugh. The bra looked to be made the same way. "I gotta wear 'em?
"Hey, I just thought of my measurements changin'! These'll let me know when it's happenin'!" And (she) stepped into the tan panties.
Her dormmates looked at one another. That was a surprising reaction. They had prepared themselves to have a battle of words with the stubborn martial artist.
(She) ran (her) fingers around the more elastic waistband before tugging at the material covering her butt. "I'll be sparrin' with these, seein' if I can keep my curse from makin' me larger and curvier than I want me to be." Even as (she) was talking, (her) butt became a centimeter plumper.
As did (her) boobs. But (she) was able to pull the bra down and over them. (She) snapped the part nearest (her) cleavage. "It's gonna take a long while to get used to these underthings, but as long as I can think of them as martial arts practice in how not to be stacked, I can live with them. Probably.
"Gur(!)" was (her) brief comment as another centimeter was added to (her) already generous figure. Then (she) collected (her)self, telling (her)self, "Calm down; calm down. The more I don't want big boobs or buns, the more I'm cursed to get them…." And, eyes closed, (she) applied a little martial arts breathing technique...
(She) opened one eye and looked down when (she) thought (she) felt, maybe, (her) boobs weren't stretching the bra out more than the bra was pushing them in. The right boob, anyway. "Am I lopsided?"
None of the others were listening to her any more. They were either in the bathroom or putting on their school uniforms. The St. Hebereke uniform was becoming familiar to her. They should be when half the girls in the school that was after the boy (she) could turn into were wearing them at the time. The school neckerchief was red under the tan collar of the white middy blouse. The long, loose skirt fell to the middle of their shins. That meant they had to be tailored to the measured spot on their legs specified by the school code. And, so, of course –frustratingly–, Ran couldn't wear just any (maxi) skirt: Oh. No. They were not for shrimps.
Time to look in the tote bags and see what (she) was allowed to wear until they did give (her) a uniform that would fit this weird, annoying body of hers.
Well, the skirt was brown. More brown than tan, but not overly brown. And – pulling it fully out of the bag – (she) saw it wasn't a long skirt. Holding it to (her) waist, (she) saw that the thing came almost down to her knees. If (she) had been thinking of the boy body (she) was cursed to get, (she) might have noticed that the (knee-length) wouldn't even be a (mini or a micro-mini) on that guy's much taller bod. (Maxi, midi, knee, mini…these were words (she) didn't know yet, or didn't remember knowing. But (she) now grasped the classification system.)
What was more important to her was testing the sketchiness of the hidden waistband. (Her) waist also liked to narrow by how much (she)(her)self disliked it. The push and pull would tell her when (her) accursed body was giving her more of a womanly one. But more importantly, (she) needed it to hold (her) stupid skirt on in the middle of battle!
Judging by yesterday, (she) was in for a lot of battles here at the school nicknamed Seijin Bacchus.
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NOTES:
Ran(ma) is used to nudity because they spent a lot of their training trip in the wilderness, away from onlookers. They took off most or all of their clothes to save on the cost of laundry.
Canon Ranma has shown little sexual interest in either girls or boys. Even before I wrote "Son Turned Daughter", I thought a good explanation was the conditioning Genma had done on him growing up. Happosai had traumatized Genma. And, so too, had Nodoka.