Daremo


The characters in this story are the creation of Rumiko 
Takahashi.  No offense intended. 

David Johnston, rgorman@telusplanet.net 



"Man, what a dump!"  Ranma assessed as he looked at the bar.  
It was fairly large, but poorly maintained.  The windows were
too dirty to see inside and there was a stench in the air from
the fishing trawlers at the near-by docks.  "Why would she run 
to a place like this?"

"Think, boy!"  Genma growled.  "At her age, without 
identification, this is the only kind of place that would hire 
her."

"Why'd she run away anyway?  She didn't even leave a note."

Genma looked at him gloweringly, and said "If you can't figure 
it out boy, I can't see how you expect me to.  With your 
relationship you _should_ understand her better than anyone 
else could ever hope to."

"Yeah...well...she was getting kind of weird before she left,"
Ranma answered sheepishly.  

"It doesn't matter.  We have an obligation to fulfill.  Let's
go get her."

As they entered, it wasn't hard to pick her out.  A ring of 
patrons surrounded her as she faced off against an opponent
at least twice her weight.  He wasn't totally unskilled 
either.  Genma quietly said, "Military hand to hand...I'd 
say American Marine Corps."  Ranma accepted that with a nod.  
His father was still better at instantly assessing the style 
of an opponent. For all Ranma's speed and skill, the old man 
still had a breadth of experience that would take Ranma years 
to match, and a dockside bar had a far more diverse clientele 
than Ranma's mix of Nerima sparring partners.  

She wasn't bothering to try anything fancy though, just side
stepping her opponents attacks, then taking the openings
revealed by his attacks.  Her opponent was taking a lot of
punishment, but had an almost Ryoga-like staying power. 
Tiring a little, she made a mistake and her opponent instantly
knocked her down.  Ranma tensed, the old "rescue the damsel
in distress" reflex sparking, but he didn't really need his
father's warning hand on his shoulder to restrain himself.  
She didn't need help, and he didn't need to give her
new reason to resent him.  

She rolled backwards up to her feet, grinning in appreciation
as she wiped a bit of blood off her lip with her thumb, then
leapt forward and demolished her opponent in flashily proper
style before smoothing her short skirt and going to work...
serving drinks.  The audience cheered as her opponent ordered
a round of drinks for everyone who watched, apparently the
penalty for losing.  

Ranma and Genma took seats at a table and waited for her.
A flash of some undefinable emotion from her eyes told Ranma
she hadn't overlooked them, but she didn't seem in any great
hurry to take their order, leaving them until last.  Just as
well, as far as Ranma was concerned.  He still didn't know
what to say to her.  If there was one thing that Ranma had
learned over the past year or so, it was that he couldn't
count on the right things to come out of his mouth when 
needed.  He was still wondering if it was something (or
everything) he'd said that caused her to walk out.
He just hadn't stopped to think about her feelings.  Yeah,
like he ever bothered to think about anyone's feelings, 
until they were actually crying.  Sometimes he really
hated himself.

Eventually she got around to their table.  She looked at 
them as if they were strangers and said, "What are you
drinking?"

Ranma snorted, "Real funny." and she glared at him as
she repeated the question with deadly restrained fury.

Genma shook his head a little at Ranma and answered with
Buddha-like calm, "Saki and a ginger ale, and we'd like 
to talk to you a little."

She looked at him, wilted a little, and replied, "Wait
until my break.  I'll talk to you then."

She was a good bar maid.  Speedy, efficient, cheerful,
no sign that she had anything on her mind.  Although
the bar was full of drunken rough customers, they all
behaved themselves around her.  It was a little less 
than an hour when she came back and sat down.  Several
of the patrons looked noticeably startled, and peered
at the men she was joining. 

"So, what was that?" Ranma asked, jerking his head at
her opponent, who appeared to have forgotten his defeat
and was now relaxing with a group of gaijin sailors.

She shrugged and grinned, "The first night I was working
here, somebody got fresh.  Things sorta worked out so that
every night when I start my shift, they pick out a contender
to take me on, then leave me alone for the resta the night.
I don't mind.  It's good training, but I'm startin' to 
figure out why Amazon tribal law ended up so weird."  It
looked like he'd said the right thing, she was relaxing as
she asked, "So, how'd you track me down, anyway?"

Genma said, "You may not be aware of it, but since that 
little ritual started, this bar has become a stop on the
Street Fighter circuit."

"Huhn.  I thought the quality of the opposition was going
up," she acknowledged, without much concern. 

Genma frowned,  "Anything Goes wasn't intended to be the
evening entertainment for a pack of drunkards."

She snorted, "Far as I can tell, it was intended to 
be a way for perverts to grope women and steal food and 
underwear."      

Genma shook his head, "The Master was always a man of
great appetites, but they didn't always consume him.  He
took a wrong turn in his development as an Artist.  I
wouldn't like to see you make the same kind of mistake."

"Right."  Her mood seemed to have swung again, back 
toward cynical resentment, if not toward the strangled 
rage with which she first greeted them.  Her eyes were
narrow as she looked at Genma, "I suppose I could always
wander around, promise to get married to a half dozen
guys, then run out on each of 'em once I've soaked 'em
for as much as I can get.  Would that fit in with
honour of the school?"

Genma remained unshaken, "It's the hope of every
teacher, and every father, that he can persuade the 
next generation to do better than the last.  I made 
choices I regret, and how I started making them 
began in places like this."

Ranma was unsettled.  He hadn't expected her to be 
so...volatile, so unpredictable.  She'd changed more 
than he'd expected.  He couldn't help staring at her 
lips.  Was that...

"Lipstick?  Is that what your staring at?"  She 
answered his thoughts, "Not exactly what you'd expect 
a kawaikunee tomboy to be wearing, is it?  
Much less a..."  She broke off rather than finish that 
thought.    She shrugged and explained, "The boss 
wanted it, and I get more tips.  If you think 
back, you wore it, once or twice, so why not?"  She 
grinned again, enjoying his discomfort, and changed the 
subject, "So, what's a nice _boy_ like you doing in a 
place like this?"

Ranma swallowed, "I...we want you to come back."

"For what?  So I can get shoved outta the way while you
make your marriage plans?  Ukyo tells me you _still_
haven't done anything about it.  What are ya waiting
for?  Me to be a bridesmaid?"

Ranma looked startled, "You've been in touch with Ukyo?"

"She's my friend too, you know.  Now that there isn't
an engagement in the way, maybe a better friend to me
than she was to...us."

Ranma shrugged, and said, "I just can't figure out why 
she didn't tell me."

She copied the shrug, "I told her I wanted to be left 
alone.  She could relate to that." 

He looked intently into her blue eyes, "No.  I know you
better than that.  You don't wanna be alone.  That's
the last thing you want.  I know enough about you to
know that."

She looked down, "I want _you_ to leave me alone."

"Why do you hate me so much?  We're-"

She was on her feet, her chair flying backward as she 
interrupted, "RANMA NO BAKA!"  Suddenly everyone was 
openly staring at them.  "You idiot!  How can someone so 
stupid be-  How could I have ever been-"  She looked at 
the interested bar patrons and snarled, "What are YOU 
looking at!"  Everyone suddenly became very interested 
in their drinks.  

Ranma said with irritation, "Look, I'm sorry, alright?  I
know you got the raw end of this deal but there's nothing
I can do about who got the short end of the straw.  But 
you don't haveta be out here on your own."  He waved a hand
at the bar surrounding them.  "Is this really what you want?"

"There are worse options.  Looking at your face every day
ain't what I want either!"

"And what's wrong with my face?" 

"That's enough!"  Genma snapped.  "Be quiet, boy.  We came
here to bring her back to the family, not to provoke her."
He turned to her, "Please sit down again and let me explain."

She laughed bitterly and ran fingers through her red hair, 
"Family?  What family? I'm nobody.  I was never born, 
remember?"

"You are my...child.  For all the magic involved in 
bringing you into existence, you carry my blood, and my
teaching,"  Genma sighed.  "I was once a rootless wanderer
with no family, myself.  My parents died when I was young
and I survived on my own my ability to steal and 
to fight.  But my lack of family and limited education 
were handicaps that I still struggle to overcome.  For
your own sake, you must return to school, and despite
your ability, it would be better if you didn't abandon us."

Despite her best efforts, a plaintive tone crept into her 
voice, "You abandoned me!"

"We didn't pay enough attention to you and your problems
when you began your separate existence, true, that is true. 
We were too focussed on trying once again to rush Ranma,
that is to say your brother, and Akane to the altar."

"-and that was a real great idea too.  If things had gone 
any smoother, we could have invited the riot squad," 
Ranma-kun muttered.  

Ranma-chan ignored him, "You were adjusting just fine.  
There just wasn't any place in your lives for me.  
So...I left."  
  
"I will make a place in our lives for you.  I have
already been investigating how to falsify a past for
you.  Nabiki's rates for this have been very reasonable.
You will be able to return to school.  Nodoka has already
indicated that she support my choice if I were to adopt
you." 

"You mean 'Ranko Tendo'?"

"You would be Ranko Saotome, or if you insist, Ranma 
Saotome, but then you have to expect to be constantly
called Ranma-chan."  Genma noticed the look of distaste
that crossed her face and erupted, "Face reality!  
You are sitting across from me in makeup, a skirt, and
I have no doubt that you are wearing a bra after seeing
your fight.  At this point, it's a waste of time for
you to pretend that you are the same person you were 
before Jyusenkyo, or even a couple of months ago, before 
you were split apart." 

"Yeah...well..."

Ranma-kun couldn't wait any longer, and broke in, "So you
gonna come back or not?  I'll promise to keep my face out
of your sight, if that'll help."

She shook her head, "There's something I have to try first.
Jyusenkyo.  It's my last chance to get back some of what
I lost.  That's what I've been saving up for, here."

Genma nodded, "That's sensible, I suppose."

"No, it's not!"  Ranma protested.  "All it's gonna do is 
cause even more trouble.  Haven't we had enough magic?
There's no telling what a second dip will do you."

"That's easy for you to say, now that you're free of it!
But I'm not.  I don't wanna be trapped like this forever,
and neither would you," her voice was soft as she finished.
"Even if it's a longshot, I have to try."

"Yeah, I guess so.  So you'll come back afterward, however
it turns out?"

"Maybe...probably...yeah...yeah I will," Ranma-chan 
reluctantly conceded.  

"Good.  I'll purchase two tickets to Hong Kong in the 
morning."

"Whaddaya mean, two!" the Ranmas chorused.  

"If my child is going to travel across China, I might as
well accompany...her.  Particularly since I wouldn't mind
a visit to Jyusenkyou myself, and I can use some company
on way on the way.  I've got enough money that with 
whatever you saved over the last couple of months, we
can leave immediately.  Fair enough?"

Ranma-chan just nodded, her eyes sparkling a little. 
______________________________________________________________

This is a continuation by request of Bie Liao, my micro-sequel
to "Two Sides Of The Coin" by "Benares".

Note that this is also my attempt to do a story where
Genma is the good guy without being unduly out of 
character.