Well, blame T.H.Tiger for this being a day late, and thank him for it being
about 50% better. See, the system does work.
School lets out! Ranma and Akane have a talk! Nabiki makes money!
Kasumi cooks dinner! Action! WAFF! Streetgangs! Shopping! Ranma sings
another song! All this, and Soun too. <Daffy Voice>Anyone for C&C? Eh?
Anyone? </Daffy Voice>
Ranma and Akane: A Love Story
Chapter 1: The First Day
Part C: Circumvallation, Shopping for streetgangs.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer: The playground is by Rumiko Takahashi, I'm only playing
in it. Remember to leave the grounds cleaner than you found them and
please don't feed the Troll.
*Lock keeper* is copyright by Stan Rogers (RIP) and mangled by me; if
you haven't encountered him before go out and buy his CDs, he sings
lots better than I write, and his estate could use the cash.
*This is a sound.*
'This is a thought.'
_This is emphasis._
{This is a sign.}
<This is Chinese.>
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Ranma lowered her head, and the song, and Furinkan's school day,
came to an end. Rising to her feet, she bowed to the rest of the class,
who bowed back. An unbiased observer would have seen that several of
them were suspiciously misty-eyed, but, fortunately, unbiased observers
were thin on the ground at Furinkan that day. So this enormous breach
of etiquette went unnoticed.
Akane rose too, and behind her the rest of the class. Flowing out of
their classroom, at the very back end of Furinkan's main building, and
down the stairs, they noticed that they were about to resolve a mystery
that had been plaguing some of them all day. First there would be a
noise as of someone shouting afar off, then a rumble as of many feet
going and then returning. Finally a distant murmur as of many voices
one to another in the manner of a school building when rumor or news
has broken out, and now runs flashing through the halls.
Annoyingly, though, the disturbance had never approached class 3-1
closely enough to make out what was going on. Nor had rumor spread, if
rumor it had been, to the class' distant door, nor had any class member
managed an explanation at lunch; unless, perhaps, it might have been in
distant, unobserved corners, under strict and bloodthirsty oaths of
secrecy.
So, to Ranma and Akane at least, the whole matter was still
mysterious (what Ranma may have thought of the cause of the
disturbance she did not say, Akane was frankly ignorant). Still it must
be said that Ranma, at least, had guessed.
Thus, when, as they approached the front of Furinkan building, the
noises from outside became clearer, it was Akane who pushed ahead, and
Ranma who pulled a Samurai's fan from her jacket sleeve, popped it
open, and, gently fanning herself, walked forward to join Akane on the
Furinkan front steps, grinning.
As she reached the top of the steps, and looked out on the yard,
that grin became a full fledged chuckle. Spread out around the Furinkan
yard ("Roses, getcher bunch Roses heaahh!") were a number of mobile
vendors ("Caannndy, Bon-Bons, onna stick!") selling, our rather
_outrageously gouging_, the various implements of girlfriend pacifica-
tion ("Joolry, getcher Joolry now-ow, best prices inna city, Guv'na").
On the way down she passed Nabiki, standing slightly apart, grinning
in glee and using a walkie-talkie to direct ("Short-term loaanns, only
30% interest over 1 month, just for you Guv'na, and I'm cuttin' me own
throat") the effort of her minions. Reaching over as she passed, she
tapped Nabiki on the shoulder and said, "You're welcome!", and then
followed Akane trough the schoolyard to the street still fanning
herself gently, and still chuckling.
As they neared the gate, she drew level with Akane, who glanced aside
at the fan still waving gently in her hand.
"A little old fashioned, isn't that?", Akane asked.
"Oh my, no! It's entirely practical, personal protection, you know."
Another sideways glance. "It's a war fan? Razor edges and such?"
"Oh no, not at all. The virtue of the warrior, after all, exists in
the soul of the warrior herself. The weapon...", passing next to the
gate-post she swung the fan, apparently, through it, "is merely the
expression of it." Behind them, as she walked on still gently fanning,
the gate-post divided itself at chest height, fell to the ground, and
shattered into dust.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Some blocks away, while passing through a park on the way to the
Tendo Dojo, Ranma finally broke the companionable silence they had
fallen into.
"Would have been nice if some of that apologizing the guys were
doing back there had fallen on the primary offendee."
"Mmm. I don't know", Akane replied, "they might have been worried
that I'd get mad at them for trying."
"Would you have?"
"Don't know, depends on how they did it, I suppose. I think I've been
given more than enough insincere flowers over the past year, anyway."
Ranma, was just then passing by a hedge of wild roses in the park,
filling the air with a slightly bitter perfume. Her fan flashed momen-
tarily in the sun as she took a 8 inch length of vine and wove it into
a wreath.
"How about sincere flowers?", she mused turning over in her hands,
and offering it to Akane.
Akane paused and turned to face her, her eyes huge and dark in her
face. "Ranma-san?!?"
Ranma shrugged, and grinned lopsidedly, "I just don't think that,
when _all_ the girls are getting flowers, that any _particular_ girl
should be neglected. People might get to thinking that she wasn't good
enough to get flowers or something, _might_ even hurt her feelings."
"Avoiding hurt feelings is one of the most important tasks a
gentleman can perform, after all. And I _am_ a gentleman."
"Of course you are", Akane smiled cutely at Ranma, "but I can't wear
flowers unless you wear them too."
"Then crowned with flowers we both shall be!", laughing, Ranma bowed
flamboyantly. Her fan flashed again, and, crowned with flowers, as she
had said, the two friends walked on, towards Akane's home.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Ranma looked at the sign hung on the building's outside wall. "The
Tendo Dojo, hmm? You hadn't said that your family owned your own Dojo,
Akane-san."
"Dad hasn't done much teaching the past several years", Akane
replied absently as she entered the house, "Hello, I'm home!"
Ranma followed her inside and clapped once as she toed off her
slippers. "Excuse me for disturbing you!", she called.
"Oh, my!", came a sweet voice from the kitchen, "We have a guest!".
Hard on the heels of the voice came the speaker, a tall, sweet-faced,
girl, apparently a few years older than Akane. Ranma bowed to her
politely, and raised an eyebrow at Akane.
"Ranma-san, this my older sister Kasumi", Akane said, "Kasumi-onee-
chan, this is my new friend from school, Bushiko Ranma."
"Welcome to our home, Bushiko-san", Kasumi chirped, "will you be
staying for dinner?"
"Oh, I couldn't impose, Tendo-san, I'm only here to see about
helping Akane-san to train in the Art."
"In that case I insist you have dinner with us", Kasumi said firmly,
"I couldn't have you training with Akane without something to eat
afterwards. I know how martial artists are."
"Well, if you insist... I accept, and with thanks." Ranma bowed
again and waved grandly to Akane, "So let's see your Dojo proper, hmm?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Akane happily led the way to the Dojo, pausing only to change into
her gi, not noticing Ranma's raised eyebrow. "Here we are!"
Ranma bowed to the spirit of the Dojo and leaned against the wall.
"Alright, start out with your katas; I'll just watch, for now."
Akane centered herself, took a cleansing breath, and began. For 5
minutes, and then 10, she performed her kata to the best of her ability,
not noticing, as she continued, Ranma's increasingly serious and
concerned expression.
Finishing with the hardest and most complex kata she knew, she
returned to the outside world and noticed Ranma's distracted expression.
Quickly becoming depressed, she sank into seiza and looked down at her
hands, "Not good enough, huh?", she said quietly.
Returning to herself with a start, Ranma considered momentarily,
then replied. "No, the problem is that you're _too_ good." She looked
down at her hands and briefly chewed her lip, "I mean to say, yeah,
there's some things you could improve in, like speed, and maybe you're
a little clumsy yet, but..."
She looked down again, briefly, and raised her head and captured
Akane's gaze with her own, blue eyes serious and intense under flaming
hair. "Look, Akane, there are two types of martial artists, okay?
There's warriors, like me, and there's people with sticks like that
Kuno lad I whapped earlier today. And the difference, the _important_
difference is: warriors are in the business of killing people, and
people with sticks are not. The Art of a guy with a stick ... well, it
might be about art, or philosophy, or a sport, or exercise, or basically
a lot of stuff, but _my_ Art, a warrior's Art, is about killing people,
or sometimes _not_ killing people."
"Ranma, I ..."
"NO", Ranma held up a firm hand. "You haven't thought it through!
Take a day, take a month, Hell, take the rest of your life if that's
what you need; once you start down that road you can't go back. You
don't want to go unless you have to."
Ranma stepped forward and put her hand on Akane's shoulder. "I'm
serious about this Akane-chan, take the time to _be sure_. I wasn't, I
didn't have a clue when I started, cause my Dad's an idiot, and it
_hurt_. It _always_ hurts, Akane-chan, or else _you're_ dead too", she
moved her other hand to Akane's other shoulder, "and I don't want my
friend to hurt like that unless there's no other choice."
Akane whimpered into Ranma's embrace and sobbed. "Y ... y ... d-do
you think I should just ... not ... then?", she mumbled into the other
girl's shoulder.
Ranma stroked the back of her neck and *shhhed*, "No, Akane, I don't
know what your honor needs. I _do_ know that when you _have_ the power
you _have_ to worry about it, not using power is a use, too." Back to
arms length, "Take this morning, that Takuichi kid, he's in the hospital
now; and you can say he deserved it, and you can say it could have been
worse, and you can say he was stupid. But when it's totaled up, what it
comes down to is that I maimed him, maybe permanently, and I didn't
have to."
"Mind you", she continued, "6 months ago I'd have killed them all
and laughed, but that was in a different place, and the rules are
different here."
"Do you think he _will_ be maimed?", Akane worried.
"I don't know Akane-chan, Japanese medicine is lots better than I'm
used to, and I've got some tricks of my own to use if it gets bad,
but ... I don't know. And it was a mistake, and you know that at some
point I'm going to have to pay for it too. It's a weight, Akane-chan,
that you can't ever put down. Don't pick it up unless you've got no
choice."
"Okay, Ranma-chan, I ... I'll think about it first." Akane smiled,
weakly.
"Thank you." Ranma hugged her briefly, hard, and then let go. "And
it's not all _that_ bad anyway, even if you decide to stay sane
there's a lot we can do to help your Art. 'Kay?"
"Uh-huh", Akane kawaiied, "Thanks. What should we do first?"
Ranma shrugged, "Change your wardrobe."
"Huh!?"
"You're wearing a gi."
"Yeah ... so?"
"Earlier today, did you feel comfortable fighting in your school
uniform?"
"No-ooo, I mean I had to, er, _if_ I'd had to I could, but..."
"Exactly! When it's your art, it's got to be a part of your whole
life. When Basho was wandering around, d'you think he only did poetry
under special circumstances? Only when he had an audience, and a mat,
and a formal ink stone, and a 3 foot brush and so on. When Hokusai did
his art, do you think he only did art on the formal, final print, and
not the rest of the time?"
"Hell, no", Ranma continued, "Hokusai was doing art even when he was
partying, (and believe me, Hokusai knew how to party, too) Basho did
poetry all the time; even if they weren't doing the formal, get-it-down
-right part, they were doing their art. And any art that's _real_ has
to be like that. All the time. And you can't do your art if you're not
being in a situation you're comfortable doing your art in. Which, for
Martial Arts, includes the clothes you're wearing. So let's go see
your closet."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Somewhat dazedly, Akane led the way to her room, where Ranma was
soon standing in front of her closet, sorting through her clothes, and
muttering.
"Uniform ... uniform ... bleah ... dress ... dress ...", Ranma posed
briefly with a sundress, "mmm, looks good, but _I_ wouldn't want to try
to high kick in it...".
Akane megablushed. "Me neither."
"Mmm ..., well, I don't see anything in here really suitable for
combat, do you?"
Akane shook her head, shyly, no.
"Well, there's only one thing to do then", said Ranma, "go shopping!"
Akane grabbed her arm urgently, "Ranma, I won't have the money for
a shopping trip for..."
Ranma patted Akane's hand gently. "Don't worry about it Akane-chan,
for a good cause, you can always find _some_ kind of donor."
Akane blushed again, "Ranma-chan, I can't ask you to buy me..."
Ranma winked at her, "Who said anything about me? Come on!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Ranma and Akane walked side by side deep into the Nerima Ginza.
Deeply engrossed in conversation with Ranma, Akane failed to notice her
steering their perambulations towards the less savory part of town.
She regained notice of her surroundings with the realization that
several Bad Elements were attempting to loom menacingly in the back-
ground. Ranma winked at her sudden start, and put a finger shushingly
to her lips. "Donors", she whispered, and continued to chatter.
"Heyhey, chickies, whatchoo doin out tonite, hah? Yew wanna _real_
man, hah? Haw, haw, looka this Junichi, a _redhead_, think I'll see if
she's a _natural_ redhead, haw!"
"Take the trailers", Ranma stage whispered. Her mouth smiled at the
forerunners of the 10 thugs surrounding them, but her eyes were cold.
"Now, gentlemen, you wouldn't risk your reputations by harassing a
pair of unescorted girls, would you?"
"Hawhaw, and who's gonna stop us chikie, huh?" the first thug
extended a tattooed hand.
"Well, for one thing", Ranma's tone was conversational, "the element
of surprise."
Her foot snapped up in a repeated high kick that landed 15 blows to
the thug's chin in a fifth of a second, then pivoted around the raised
foot in a ki charged arc that smashed the 2 forward flankers into their
respective walls. (Akane spun and launched a straight power kick into
the gut of the thug directly behind her. As he folded, her hand rose
and fell in a well-timed strike to the back of his neck.) Ranma shifted
position in midair, flashing to her left in a jump kick into a fourth
thug that carried him into the fifth, her hand blurred briefly as they
landed to the blurry *thud* of many blows to exposed heads and torsos,
then launched herself backward. (Akane continued her motion to the side,
launching herself at the thug there and blasting through his defenses
with a flurry of punches that soon sent him into unconsciousness.)
Ranma flipped through the air towards the remaining two thugs on her
side, altering course at the last instant to pass between them, her
hands blurring as she passed. She landed lightly on her feet, preparing
to move towards Akane as her last opponents slumped heavily to the
ground. Akane however, had already bounced off the wall in a long jump
kick that took her fleeing final foe in mid back, smashing him limply
into the other wall of the alley.
"Well", Ranma beamed, "not bad at all."
"What the heck was that for?", Akane all but shrieked, "What were
you think... What are you _DOING_?"
"Hmmm ... looting the bodies, Akane-chan, what does it look like?"
"You _killed_ them!!??!"
"No, no. If I'd killed them, I'd have said I was looting the
_corpses_."
"But ... but ...", Akane could only watch in stupefaction as Ranma,
in less than a minute, stripped the brainless bodys down to their under-
wear, stacked their jackets, shoes, shirts, pants, and paraphernalia in
the middle of the alley, and rifled their wallets, throwing their
cards and photos to the ground and counting their cash.
"Nearly 4 million cash!", Ranma gloated, "and better than 2 million
5 in loot too! As I said, not bad at all!"
"Ranma, what...?", Akane stood openmouthed in shock, "How can you
just...?"
"Well, after all, Akane-chan, they did try to accost us, you know.
If you don't apply some kind of penalty, they'll surely slip further
and further into Crime, ne? And we do deserve some sort of compensation
for our efforts, right? Besides: to the victor, the spoils."
"Now, here, take this pile of pants and shirts and come on, we've got
to go fence this stuff, and then go shopping."
"Shopping?", Akane queried weakly.
"We need to get you a new wardrobe, remember?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Later, Ranma turned from Akane's closet and pronounced herself satis-
fied. "Hah! Hah! Still got that haggling touch! Hah!"
Akane turned from the mirror, and tried to see how her long hair
_really_ looked against the back of her new leather vest. "Do you
_really_ think this looks good, Ranma-chan?"
Ranma looked at Akane's black velvet pants / white silk shirt /
black leather vest combo and raised an OK sign. "Trust me, Akane-chan,
you look great. And there's nearly a million yen left for other stuff
you might need too!"
"Are you _sure_ you won't take any of this money, Ranma-chan, you
did most of the work."
"Nah!", Ranma waved her hand, "don't need it at the moment. Besides,
we're friends right? One day you'll do something like that for me. Now
let's get going, your sister just called us to dinner!"
Returning to the dining room, Nabiki frankly stared at Akane's new
look. Introductions to Nabiki and Soun were made, and one of Kasumi's
typically excellent meals was consumed.
Mealtime conversation was mostly superficial, enlivened only by
Ranma's presentation of a guesting gift (Wrapped bottles of Sake and a
box of exotic spices for Kasumi) at the beginning of the meal.
Nabiki had been looking at Ranma with what seemed to be a certain
amount of unease throughout the meal, and after Soun excused himself
she appeared to come to a decision.
"Um, Ranma-san, I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity you
provided me this morning. And, um, Ithinkyoushouldtake10percentofthe-
moneyinthanks", Nabiki blushed as though she could not believe what
she had just said.
Ranma winked at her "Already taken care of, Nabiki-san, and thank
you. Kasumi-san, may I speak with you privately for a moment?" Then
whispered in her ear, "Take 350k and use it for incidental household
expenses please, Nabiki isn't as solvent as she'd like you to think."
Kasumi nodded gravely, and Ranma turned to the still seated girls.
"It's time I went home, I think; I'll see you tomorrow before school,
Akane?"
Akane nodded brightly, but Nabiki seemed confused, "err, the money?"
"Oh, don't worry about it, Nabiki-san, I picked your pocket for it
earlier", Ranma winked at Nabiki's open-mouthed shock, "It's every
persons duty, after all, to speed the right; and in the spirit of that
duty, Gentles all, Goodnight!"
And whistling, and winking to Akane, Ranma turned out the door of
the Dojo, and walked down the street to her apartment, under the Moon
and the stars.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Walking down the street alone, Ranma thought to herself, 'Wow,
friendship, I wonder if...'
'NO', herself replied, 'she's straight, she's a girl, and she thinks
you're a girl. This is the best friendship you've had since Kitsune
or Usagi, _don't mess it up_! Besides, you've got some kind of
arrangement coming from Dad, right? No More Romance, and that's
_final_."
So thinking, Ranma walked on down the darkened street. It is the
privilege of a Martial Artist to ignore the little voice inside that
says 'Sure' after all. Presently she began, somewhat unconsciously, to
sing. A song she had learned from a Gaijin ship crewman and translated
to Japanese:
You say 'Well met again, Lock keeper.
You see me laden even deeper than the time before.
Occidental oils and teas brought down from Singapore.'
As we wait for my lock to cycle, I say,
'My wife has just given me a son!'
'A son', you cry, 'is that all that you've done?'
'Then come with me!', you say,
'To where the Southern Cross rides
high upon your shoulder.
'Oh, come with me', you cry,
'Each day you tend this lock
you're one day older, and your
blood
grows
colder.'
But that anchor chain's a fetter
And with it you are tethered to the foam,
And I wouldn't trade your life
For one hour of home.
She wears Bougainvillea blossoms,
You pluck 'em from her hair and toss them in the tide,
Sweep her in your arms, and carry her inside.
And her arms rest on your shoulder,
And her moonlit eyes grow bold and wiser through the tears,
And I say, 'How could you stand to leave this for the years?'
But 'Come with me!', you say,
'To where the Southern Cross rides
high upon your shoulder.
'Oh, come with me', you cry,
'Each day you tend this lock
you're one day older, and your
blood
grows
colder.'
But that anchor chain's a fetter
And with it you are tethered to the foam,
And I wouldn't trade your life
For one hour of home.
Sure, I'm stuck here on the Seaway,
While you compensate for leeway through the Trades;
And you shoot the stars to see the miles you've made;
And you laugh at hearts you've riven,
But which of these has given us more love and life?
You, your tropic maids, or me, my wife?
And 'Come with me!', you say,
'To where the Southern Cross rides
high upon your shoulder.
'Oh, come with me', you cry,
'Each day you tend this lock
you're one day older, and your
blood
grows
colder.'
But that anchor chain's a fetter
And with it you are tethered to the foam,
And I wouldn't trade your whole life
For one hour of home.
And I wouldn't trade your whole life
For one hour of home.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Much later, Akane stood in her bedroom looking out the window at
nothing in particular. She considered honor, and duty, and leather
vests. She saw in her mind a kendoist flying backwards to a wall, and
a katana snapped in two hanging momentarily in mid-air. She weighed
her life against pain, and tumbled thugs, and a crown of roses.
And then she smiled, and returned to her bed, and fell deeply asleep.
A response which is noted as common, in cases of great Decision.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
And across Nerima, silence fell, and quiet reigned. And if, in some
corner, those who felt themselves abused whispered, and plotted revenge,
Ranma and Akane, at least, took no notice. And slept the sleep of the
just, till morning came.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Next, Chapter 2: the second day: Assaulting the walls.
Various people plot revenge! Various people are silly! Nabiki makes
more money! Ranma pontificates! Akane resolves! Swimming! Showers!
Training! Magic! And just what is that ring Ranma's wearing on her
braid, anyway?
Coming soon, hopefully.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes: Or, Just what the Fsck is going on here anyway?
At the beginning of September, 1998, our two family dogs, aged 13
and 11, died within 10 days of each other. The second, largely, of
grief. We buried them in the back yard, late at night, when it was cool.
And now you know where the inspiration for the prologue scene came from.
This is a fic whose ending, 6 fic months away, I have known for more
than 6 months. If it seems polished, it's because I've worn most of the
rough edges away in my head, before ever setting fingers to keyboard.
This is also a fic which was produced because of a deep and terrible
annoyance at Alternafics of the form "This changes, nothing else
changes, and we will now retell the origin story with everything the
same, except for what's different.
Finally, this is a fic for the unabashed romantic in me, you have
been warned.
Questions: What's the deal with Ranma, huh, why's he so good?
He's been training with competent people, even harder than in canon,
for more than, on his time line, 10 years. He's good!
But a little bloodthirsty, huh?
He thinks he's gotten the Neko-ken under control, but he hasn't
entirely.
Yeah, the Neko-ken, what's up with that?
This alternate diverges at the Neko-ken training, which Genma, for
reasons unknown, conducts a year later than in canon. Everything
up to that point is the same, after is very different.
Yeah, and...?
The training, instead of making Ranma think he is a cat, made him
more than slightly psychopathic. Unfortunately^HFortunately Genma
avoided a well-deserved culling^H tragedy, but only because Ranma
beat him up, and then left.
Genma made Ranma promise to return to test for mastery in 6 years
(6 months are left at the start of chapter 1) and specified that
the testing would take place at this wonderful training ground he'd
heard of. Ranma spent the first 6 months in a temple on Honshu,
getting the Neko-ken under control. Then he traveled to Jhusenkyou
to spy out the lay of the land. So he's had the curse for 5 years
now and has gone through puberty in both forms. He thinks of himself
as male, but of variable gender. If that seems confusing, it's
because you can't change like that yourself.
Okay, so about the sword?
Without Genma's interference, Ranma has traveled much farther and
trained in many more skills, weapons and special moves than in canon.
A list of special moves?
Largely irrelevant, assume he can do most anything one way or
another.
So, how are you going to challenge him anyway?
I've got ways plotted out, he's Invincible, not Invulnerable, but
that too is largely irrelevant. This is not Ranma's Story.
This is Akane's Story, or more to the point, The Story of
Ranma-and-Akane, and Ranma-and-Akane will have challenges aplenty,
I assure you.
Usagi? Kitsune?
From Stan Sakai, the glass part of the amulet Ranma holds up in the
Prologue is a cracked mirror, if that helps. Crossovers can be
expected to be present, yah.
The kata Ranma's doing in his apartment? Bargain, Prize, Price?
Ask Granny Weatherwax. Or Shawn Ogg, for that matter.
Further questions?
Direct them to hallcon@mindspring.com, I'll try to answer as fast
as possible.
--
"Sorry, your mailspool was deleted. We figure it's probably encoded
somewhere in Pi, though, so as soon as we find it we'll let you know."
-Josh Brandt, a.s.r
-Eric Hallstrom, 22 Sept. 1998
Eric Hallstrom hallcon@mindspring.com