Subject: [FFML] [Fanfic][Ranma/SM] Timed Vacation - prologue
From: ukie
Date: 10/27/2003, 10:06 PM
To: ffml@anifics.com


Disclaimer: Ranma1/2 is the creation of Takahashi Rumiko, Sailor 

Moon from Takeuchi Naoko, and "Long Vacation," the J-drama 

show from KNDY & the Asunaro Association starring Takuya 

Kimura and Yamaguchi Tomoko, belongs to Fuji TV.  

 

Note: A good deal of the romance scenes in the story is heavily 

adapted from the series "Long Vacation."  If you can find a 

translated copy of the show, watching it is highly encouraged.

 

Take it with a grain of salt.  This is just some weird product I 

cooked up while trying to get back into writing shape.  

 

I had originally wanted to wait until the whole thing�s finished

before I post, but I figured since it�s close to the end already,

I can start looking for some serious revisions here while plowing

forward to churn out the last two chapters and the epilogue.

Chapter 7 should finally be out soon, if I'm not too bogged down

with work and what not.

 

In any event, you have been warned.

 

 

 

- Prologue -

 

1

April 15, 1999

11:37 AM

 

This story began with a cat.  

 

She was extremely alert, in good physical condition with firm 

muscle tones.  Her head was smooth, medium wedge-shaped, 

neither tapering nor massive, with a blunt muzzle but not any 

exaggerated pinch.  No nose breaks either.  Had a pair of rather 

large and pointed ears - translucent skin, thank you very much, as 

she would seem to point out from the way she looked at you at 

times - with very fine hair.  Her eyes were large, often 

expressively so.  A long and slender neck that that is almost regal 

in appearance gradually widened at the shoulders.  Body and legs 

fine-boned, maintaining a characteristically lithe and graceful 

outline and carriage without being tubular in appearance.  Her 

paws were small and slightly rounded.  It would be an insult to 

even suggest that she had an incorrect number of toes.  And, not 

that it's readily visible from her current position, but she possessed 

a perfectly-looking tail as well.  Lastly, her coat was short, dense, 

fine, and plush.  Almost like silk, her owner would say if she could 

be bothered to make the comparison.  In short, she presented the very 

picture of what an international show champion should look like, if 

only her hair wasn't standing on its ends at the moment.

 

Luna shivered in a corner behind the sofa, suddenly coming down 

with a case of bad vibes this morning.

 

This was a bad thing.

 

Turning one ear to the sides without actually moving, she tapped 

back into the conversation around her after her owner's current 

string of whining had ceased.  It never failed to amaze Luna the 

lung capacity that Usagi possessed.  If anyone asked the moon cat 

her honest opinion, she'd say that the only thing that could hold 

more air than Usagi's lungs would be her head.  

 

"Sure, I'll play the organ."  Haruka said.  "I used to play pianos all 

the time."

 

"Okay, then that's settled.  Let's see... I'll cross that item out.  

Next on the list, table-seating arrangements... hey, Ami, can you 

take care of that?"  That would be her charge speaking.  For Luna, 

the only thing good that'll come out of this mess would be that 

hopefully, Mamoru would prove to be a much more responsible 

owner than Usagi.  She had her reservations, however; all male 

bachelors, no matter how-well dressed they appear on the outside, 

could secretly turn out to be total flea-bitten slobs that shed more 

hair in weight than they excrete daily, just like a certain cat not 

presently mentioned.  She didn't know how she would survive if 

her prince's neatness habits were anywhere comparable to her 

princess's.  

 

"Um, Usagi," Ami interjected.

 

"Yes?"

 

"We're pretty much near the end of the list, right?"  The blue-

haired girl hesitated again.

 

Usagi didn't know where this was going.  "Yeah?"

 

"So, um, who's going to be the maid-of-honor?"

 

"Oh."  Usagi held a finger to her mouth, trying as hard as she could 

to think up an answer.  Her brows creased so much from the sheer 

effort that air was coming out of her ears.  "Crap!"  She exploded, 

"I'd totally forgotten about that!  I can't believe that I never 

thought of that and it's only three weeks to the wedding and oh my 

god what am I gunna do help me help me Ami anybody I'll die if 

you don't - umm... Naru?"  She offered tentatively, instantly 

recovering from her bout of hysteria as soon as her brain finally 

came up with an answer.

 

Rei rolled her eyes heavenward.  "Nice try, odango-atama.  She 

left for the States eight months ago."  Then the fire senshi added, 

"Besides, you only have two weeks and a half left."

 

"Waaah!"  The bride-to-be went back to bawling her eyes out.  

Now, that's a thought, Luna winced at the high-pitched noise from 

the other side of the couch and muttered to herself.  If she cried 

even half as much during the last fight, Sailor Moon could 

probably have drowned Galaxia in her tears.  Moon Shining 

Deluge, or something to that effect.  It's even marginally less 

embarrassing sounding than Chibi's Pink Sugar Heart Attack in 

her books. 

 

Tuning the rest of the conversation out, Luna curled inward even 

more and tried to go back to sleep.  She figured that the worst case 

scenario would be that Usagi forgot to order a bridal gown and had 

to use the disguise pen on the day of her wedding.  Now if only she 

could convince that the dread she was feeling earlier was anything 

short of impending disaster, everything would be just peachy.

 

Her thoughts were derailed, however, as the air in their usual 

meeting room shimmered, then a vertical line of pure magic 

appeared and expanded sideways into a portal.  Silence settled all 

around Hikawa shrine for a brief instant before the gleaming 

Garnet Orb poked through where there was only empty space a 

mere moment ago.  

 

Sailor Pluto followed briskly after that, gloved fingers gripping 

tightly about the silver-colored Time Staff.  

 

"Setsuna!"  Usagi cried, latching herself onto the green-haired 

senshi in a heartbeat.  "You're just in time!  You've got to help me 

out on this one oh my god I'm like so doomed... hey, Setsuna?  

Say, would you be my maid-of-honor at the wedding?"  Then, 

seeing no reaction or even acknowledgment of her presence, Usagi 

said, "Setsuna, are you listening?"

 

Ruby irises that seemed to even outshine the brightness of the Orb 

darted around the room instinctively, almost as if she were on a 

battlefield.  Then, only after they apparently found what she was 

looking for, Sailor Pluto allowed her posture to relax.  "Finally... 

everything... it's all fixed."  Shoulders slumping forward in a very 

uncharacteristic manner, Setsuna said to no one in particular with 

surprisingly thick emotion.  Then, as abrupt as her entrance, 

Setsuna vanished without another word, leaving a wide-eyed and 

quite off-balanced Usagi a detailed look at the grain textures of the 

cookies Makoto set upon the table earlier as she crashed into the 

plate of snacks.

 

Rei rose up from her place at the sofa immediately.  "Usagi!  Are 

you all right?"  Seeing that her princess's head proved to be 

sturdier than the metal plate, the shrine maiden sighed in relief.  

Then frowned.  "That Setsuna... barging in again out of nowhere!  

I can't believe she still does it after all this time."

 

"Do you think we have another enemy showing up?"  Shrugging 

and straightening herself from her seat next to her lover, Michiru - 

who barely spoke all morning - offered.  "Pluto didn't look herself 

when she dropped by."  

 

"Naah.  I doubt anybody would want to fight us after Galaxia." 

Haruka said.  "But, you're right though.  If I didn't know better, I 

could've sworn that Setsuna looked like she was crying."

 

Minako, still flipping through the bridal catalogue and admiring 

the various dresses, looked up at that and called a quick time-out.  

"Okay, time-out, time-out."  Completely bug-eyed, she crossed her 

fingers in an "X" in front of her and asked, "Setsuna, crying?  You 

must be kidding.  I don't think she'd shed a tear if she saw her own 

coffin being pried open."

 

"That's 'nailed shut'... oh never mind," Makoto corrected in an 

exasperated tone.  "But if she were crying..."  Here, her voice 

dropped the customary fifty-decibels to make it qualify for a 

conspiratorial whisper as the brown-haired girl sneaked a furtive 

look to everyone in the room, "Could she be... jealous?"

 

At once, all heads - even Luna's - turned towards the princess.

 

"Mmmph mmm mmph mmmmph mmm," said a surprised Usagi 

who was busy cleaning off the last bits of crumb on the plate until 

now.  "What?"

 

Naturally, as she was already curled up like a ball, Luna did not 

face-fault like all the other girls in the room.  

 

Unfortunately, she did something worse in her opinion.  She 

shivered again.

 

 

April 29, 1999

10:15 AM

 

As it turned out, Usagi did order a gown ahead of time.  She even 

remembered to show up at the rehearsal without anyone's help, a 

sign which Luna took as either a positive step to Usagi's growth, 

or that the world was going to end very soon.  She had actually bet 

on the latter and, fortunately for the rest of the world, lost against 

Artemis.  However, that did not mean there were no problems in 

the meantime... 

 

"Has anybody found Mamoru yet?"  A nervous Rei came out of 

the ladies' room and asked the others, who had formed a loose 

circle while waiting outside.  A collective shake of heads was her 

reply.  "Damn.  Odango's been crying and throwing a fit in there."  

 

"We sort of heard," Michiru said, "along with everyone else on 

this side of town."

 

Makoto mused.  "Still, it's not like him to be this late.  I mean, a 

whole hour?"  

 

"Here, here," Minako waved a pamphlet in the air excitedly.  "I 

just picked this little thing up somewhere the other day, and I bet 

it'll tell us what to do in case something like this happens."  

Unfolding her copy of 'You Know Your Upcoming Wedding is 

Going Down the Drain When...', she quickly found the item 

addressing the current issue.  "...number three."  She read aloud 

superfluously, as by this time most of the group had gathered 

behind her to read it themselves already:  

 

(3)  Unexplained absences or lateness to prearranged 

meetings.  This situation should be treated as an emergency, 

as it most likely means that your partner has second 

thoughts about lifelong commitment.  Skipping out on 

wedding rehearsals is especially considered as an indication 

of trouble.  

 

Solution: If you are a male, do nothing.  It is clear that your 

partner thinks you are unworthy of her love and decides to 

elope with someone else.  If you are a female, however, 

hunt down the male immediately and beat his ass up to 

show what happens when you mess around with the 

superior gender.  

 

At this time, Usagi chose to make it a known fact that just because 

she was crying didn't mean that she couldn't hear.  The girls 

cringed as the wailing rose yet another octave.  

 

"...hey, what the hell?"  Minako asked after she finished reading 

the rest of the pamphlet.  "That's like their solution to every single 

problem!  Who wrote this crap anyway?"  She turned the pamphlet 

over to the front with a quick flick of wrist.  "Hmm.  New 

Joketsukotsu Press.  Never heard of it."  She shrugged and threw 

the thing away into a nearby trash bin.

 

"You know," Setsuna said, "You girls have a nasty tendency to 

exaggerate the problems.  Mamoru's probably just delayed by the 

traffic.  I know you were almost late too, Haruka, and I know how 

fast you drive."

 

"Yeah," the latter agreed.  "Highway was really congested today."

 

The hysterical noises from the other side of the wall slowly tapered 

off to barely a whimper.

 

"See?  There's no need to make a big fuss."  The Senshi of Time 

continued, her eyes never leaving the door to the ladies' room.  "In 

fact," she added casually, "I can guarantee you that nothing 

Endymion does will ever top what my fianc� did."

 

Seeing that what Setsuna was saying had calmed their princess 

down considerably, the rest of the girls followed suit and 

concurred encouragingly, at least until their minds had digested the 

info that was put out.  "Fi-fianc�?"  They queried eerily in unison, 

various degrees of shock written on their faces.  Holy shit, some 

guy was willing to marry Pluto?  Didn't he know how long that 

woman can carry a grudge if she chose to?  Poor guy, Rei 

remarked, he must have been a great man though.  Waitasec, said 

Minako, a great man?  Didn't Gandhi die back in the forties 

already?  Setsuna-mama wouldn't go for married guys, Hotaru 

whispered.  And besides, he's too thin.  Then who else had the 

tolerance to propose to someone like Setsuna?  Asked Minako.  

Must be that she was desperate enough to go back in time and 

hooked up with one of the disciples of Jesus, Makoto concluded.

 

"Ahem."  The subject of the senshi's latest rumor cleared her 

throat lightly.  All debates regarding which self-torturing hermit 

back in the Middle Ages would have been a likely fianc�e 

candidate for Setsuna ceased instantly.  "Actually, it's ex-fianc�," 

she corrected in a tone that could not be more casual than if she 

had been discussing the prices of watermelons and bananas with a 

street vendor, "I was jilted at the altar."

 

Oh, that makes perfectly good sense then, Minako continued on 

from where she left off.  I knew Pluto couldn't possibly have 

landed a guy before I do; that'd be like the most unfair thing in the 

world... 

 

And then the full meaning of what Setsuna said hit her, and her 

jaws joined her fellow senshi's to occupy a space on the carpeted 

floor.

 

 

2

October 5, 1996

2:24 PM

 

Her name was Meiou Setsuna.  

 

She was a small-time model, well-known only to those who would 

collect clothing catalogues from various department stores.  Her 

dream of becoming a fashion designer went unrealized, after she 

discovered how shady the business was when her fifth employer 

demanded favors from her before he'd consider using her work.  A 

particularly bad argument between her and her family ended when 

she left home for good, and two years of grand aspirations and 

abysmal luck later she found herself sitting in a dingy coffee shop 

in Juuban, reading her latest assignment.

 

Pushing a stray lock of green hair backward, she muttered 

something darkly.  "Great.  Another dead-end job, posing for 

kitchen-ware sales at a local supermarket."  She sighed.  Not 

exactly uplifting news, considering that she was competing for the 

cover page against a gleaming selection of deluxe china set marked 

down with a 40% discount.  

 

She had thought of making things up with her folks, but held back 

each time when she remembered that her eight cousins - two 

lawyers, three doctors, one intern, and two successful 

businesswomen - plus their families were all probably back home 

waiting to make a laughing stock out of her, especially when she 

declared that she was going to make a name out of herself in the 

fashion business, that her name was going to outshine everybody 

else's and that five years down the road everything they wore 

down to their underwear and slippers would have her brand on it.  

Denouncing her politician of a father as a fraud in broad daylight 

before she ran away would have also made smoothing their 

relations somewhat difficult, never mind that her parents had 

already forgiven her for the outcry and only wished for her to settle 

down with a good husband because they had long ago decided that 

Setsuna wouldn't amount to much of a designer anyway due to her 

tasteless fashion sense.

 

A brief inspection at the woman, from her fake diamond-studded 

earrings and pressed blouse down to her faded jeans and high-

pumps that had a plastic sheen, would tend to make most passers-

by agree with her parents.

 

Noticing that her green tea had gone cold in the meantime, she 

gulped down the rest of the cup and made a face of disgust.  

Checking her watch absently, she noted that she had to leave soon 

to make it to the photo shoot.  Thinking back to the conversation 

she had with her future self just a moment earlier, Setsuna asked 

herself just what in the nine hells could have gone wrong...

 

x x x

 

She was making herself a light meal, humming a random tune on 

the fly.  Wondering for the umpteenth time at how much she'd 

actually have to pay for electricity bills on Pluto if it weren't for 

the Silver Millennium magic that fueled everything from the Time 

Gate to the generators in her palace, Setsuna was almost startled 

when the microwave in the kitchen went "Ding!" and told her that 

the pasta was ready.

 

It was a rare occasion for Sailor Pluto to allow herself to be drawn 

in by a lull like this and simply relax.  This also meant that she was 

caught completely off-guard when another copy of herself stepped 

out from thin air in front of her.  

 

"Hey."  The other Setsuna said with a hand in the air in a half-

hearted wave.  

 

"Hey yourself."  Sailor Pluto replied, her surprise neatly tucked 

behind the customary non-expression she wore on her face.  

"What's going on?"  

 

"Nothing," said the other woman.  "Just dropping by to say that 

I'm going to be on a vacation soon."

 

Her meal momentarily forgotten, Pluto asked with an arched 

eyebrow.  "A vacation?"  

 

"Yup," said her future self merrily.  Hold on, she was happy?  

Something was definitely going on.  

 

"And you are too," the future-Setsuna continued.  "In fact, your 

current trip starts right about... now.  Have fun."

 

And then, with another wave of hands, the Pluto from the future 

vanished.  Just as Setsuna wondered what exactly was going on, 

she noted immediately that something was amiss.  

 

Someone had turned the lights off in the palace.  

 

"An intruder?"  Pluto yelled disbelievingly.  Quickly summoning 

her staff, she teleported to the Gate nearby, thinking that whoever 

had bypassed the security must be trying to target the Time Stream.  

Led by the ruby magical light of the Garnet Orb, Setsuna turned to 

the massive, rune-covered construct, fully expecting to catch a 

horde of youma about to leap into the shimmering surface of the 

Gate portal to the past... when she realized that there were no 

enemies nearby.  

 

Unfortunately, that was also when she noted that the ancient runes 

carved into the Time Gate had stopped glowing, and that the 

watery surface of the Time Stream encircled by the Gate had 

solidified back into stone.

 

Uh-oh, Setsuna thought to herself, right as the light from her 

Garnet Orb flickered once before vanishing as well and left her to 

be claimed by the all-encompassing darkness.

 

x x x

 

As the last of the Silver Millennium magic left her and memories 

of an unfamiliar life rushed in to fill the void, the former senshi of 

Time stared at the empty cup of green tea in her hands and at once 

realized that something in the past had been altered so drastically 

that she had lost all power as a result, and that there was no way 

she could possibly fix the error in her present state.  Faced with a 

myriad of questions about what could have gone wrong and 

coming up with no apparent answer, Setsuna could only think of 

one thing to say to sum up her current predicament:

 

"Fuck."

 

 

October 5, 1996

2:24 PM

 

A young man strolled down the sidewalk on a street in Juuban, a 

small backpack that had seen its share of travel rested on his back.  

Measured strides carried him against the general flow of the crowd, 

mostly students who had just finished their half day of school on a 

regular Saturday and were looking to go to the mall or the movie 

theatre nearby.  His feet guided him towards nowhere in particular; 

he had started out from the east side of town, traversed the district 

northward, then down south to the shopping blocks and the movie 

theatre, circled twice around the last block, before he started back 

east again.

 

Light breeze tickled his pigtail and lifted it playfully in the air.  He 

walked past another building, stepped on a black cat without even 

noticing, and turned left at the following street.  The cat leapt away 

from the sidewalk in a mixture of both surprise and pain, and 

landed right on the back of a produce truck.  It would eventually 

find itself in Hokkaido.

 

Briefly, he thought of happier times.  Like last night, in fact.  

Despite the part that when he turned to Akane and told her how 

funny Satomi looked in the end when she was crying, the way that 

boogie trailed down her nose and past her lips, he found his fianc�e 

about to go through her second box of tissues.  Or the part when 

Hideo launched a reverse-spin kick that whiffed, only to produce a 

gun in his right hand before he landed and killed the Yakuza boss 

with a bullet to the heart that Akane thought was totally cool and 

he thought was utterly lame, because _his_ kick wouldn't have 

missed.  Despite all that, the movie date shouldn't have ended that 

badly - and yet it did.

 

It had been Mousse, without chains, bearing down on them as he 

descended from his point of ambush on a rooftop on their way 

back.  Something in the guy's eyes - a perpetual fogginess, it 

appeared - had been lifted, he noted, but now only a sort of 

weariness replaced the haze.  Somehow Mousse finally understood 

that Shampoo would never come to love him, and in a moment of 

complete despair he went over the edge.  Kill me, he said.  End this 

farce.  It had been Mousse, his blades inches away from Akane's 

throat, when his request was denied.  Kill me, like you killed 

Saffron, he repeated, or I'll kill her.

 

It had been Akane, shocked, panicking, and screaming his name.  

 

And finally, it had been himself, fists charging, ki-blazing, aiming 

a killing blow at Mousse's head.  And never connecting.

 

The hand that held the sword lowered.  There was no blood on it.  

Coward, said Mousse bitterly as he fled into the night, I thought 

you were better than me.  And Akane, tearful, slumped to the 

ground and on her knees, overwhelming relief almost hiding an 

unnamed accusation in her eyes.  It was nearly enough to convince 

him that she did not feel somehow betrayed.

 

Neither of them said a word as they went back to the dojo.  Akane 

excused herself and went upstairs.  He went back to the guest room 

and packed.

 

Ironic.  She didn't even have to break the engagement this time.  

 

Thinking back, the disastrous wedding should have been enough to 

warn him, but he either ignored the sign or failed to see it.  

Somehow, things in Nerima had escalated into something much 

more while nobody noticed.  It was partially a creation of his own, 

his inability to choose between the fianc�es because of his honor, 

but every person he dragged into this mess contributed to the 

overall problem in their own ways.  And it was taking over, this 

amorphous tangle of engagement and death threats and obsessions 

and temper tantrums, becoming a vicious cycle that was starting to 

sustain itself, coming alive like the sludge monster Akane made 

once in Home Ec. with natto beans and jelly and a basketful of fish 

eyeballs, only that he couldn't kill it with Mouko Takabisha or any 

other technique he knew.  It had taken up until that night to make 

him realize how deadly this whole mess had become.  Someone 

had to do something about it.

 

The clothes he had should last him a good while; the money he had 

much less so.  He crept silently into Akane's room before dawn, 

nearly brushed his lips against her cheeks enough to taste the salt 

left overnight, and hesitated before he left.

 

He had been walking since then.

 

Each step took him further away from home, and he treaded each 

step meticulously as if walking a tightrope.  One misstep and he 

would tumble headlong in either direction; killing someone - a 

sacrilege to the Art, or not being able to save the ones he cared - 

an unforgivable crime.  Last night, it had ended and he found 

himself still standing on the wire.  He was not so sure where he 

would end up next time.   

 

He had paused at an intersection, felt the heat of the sun on his 

chest, and doubled back the other way.  Long and perilous the Path 

may be, it should not have been a balancing act.  Perhaps, then, he 

thought to himself, I have to let go further.  Perhaps I need to leave 

the Art behind, and start living for something else.  A hundred 

other perhaps filled him in the time it took the sunlight to travel 

upward along his back, and though the uncertainty made him pause 

in his tracks several times it did not stop him.  After all, he thought, 

everything will work itself out in the end.  And he will never lose.

 

Because he was Saotome Ranma.  

 

He stopped under the sign of some small, dingy looking caf�, 

ducked inside, pulled out some change from his pocket, gulped 

down a glass of lemonade to quench a momentary thirst before 

taking off again.  As he headed for the exit, he saw something out 

of the corner of his eyes and paused.  A girl, back turned, sitting at 

the rear end of the shop.  He noted that she had a lustrous wave of 

green hair.  He left.

 

And this, plus the cat, was their story.

 

 

 

 

A very late entry for the Ranma/SM Crossover Generator 

Challenge...

 

 

 

 

T   I   M   E   D       V   A   C   A   T   I   O   N

 

 

 

A crossover fanfiction from

 

ukulele studios

 

 

 

Opening Theme: Close to You (Instrumental)

Composed by: CAGNET



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