Ranma: Someday Never Comes
David Homerick

	Prologue:  ER.

	The woman in the emergency room was dying.  Her broken body had been patched
up as well as possible, but her liver and spleen were shattered, and no
replacements were available.  So she lay there as the heart monitors beeped
away the last moments of her life and clutched the hand of the young man who
knelt beside her.
	"Hidoshi," she whispered.  Hidoshi leaned closer.  He was about seventeen
years of age, and powerfully built.  
	"Mother," he said.  "Tell me, Mother.  Who was my father?  I must know."
	A hand fluttered up and touched his cheek.  "My son," she said.  "So strong. 
So like a pig.  I see him in you every day."
	"Mother, please."
	"He was so sad.  So lonely.  I gave him the best comfort I could, but I knew
he had to go back to her.  It was his honor.  He was a very honorable man,
your father."
	"Mother, tell me."
	"As honorable as a pig."  Hidoshi rolled his eyes.  Mom and her pigs.  "I
couldn't tell him I was pregnant.  It would have destroyed him."
	Her voice wavered, and Hidoshi leaned closer, alarmed.  "His name, mother.  I
need his name."
	"His name...."
	"Yes?"
	"Hibiki.  Ryoga Hibiki."
	Hidoshi leaned back, inhaling.  His mother's hand fluttered again, like a
butterfly.  "My son... you must promise me..." she coughed weakly.  "Promise..."
	The monitors shrieked as she slumped back.  Nurses rushed in and began
working dutifully, with no real hope.  Hidoshi stood back, tears filling his eyes.
	His father.  The man who had ploughed his mother and abandoned her to raise
his seed in poverty and shame.  Ryoga Hibiki had destroyed his mother's life,
just as the drunken driver had destroyed her body.  And while the law would
punish the driver, it was up to Hidoshi to punish his father.
	"Mother," he whispered.  "Mother, I swear..."  He raised a fist to the
ceiling and roared.  "I WILL PUNISH YOU, RYOGA HIBIKI!"
	Doctors, nurses, and patients alike turned to glare at him as he strode
purposefully into a supply closet.

	Chapter 1: A Perfect Day.

	"RAN -- KO -- CHAN!"
	"RAN -- KO -- CHAN!"
	The chant swelled as Ranma's opponent slumped to the floor of the ring.  The
referee grabbed Ranma's hand and raised it high over his head.
	"Winnerrrr..." he bellowed into the mike, "RANKO-CHAN!"  The crowd roared as
Ranma waved enthusiastically to it and racked his brain for something suitably
girlish to say.
	The championship belt was returned to him, along with a giant bouquet of
roses.  Someone pushed a mike in his face.  "Oh, wow!" he squealed.  "Did I
really win?  I'd like to thank all my wonderful fans...  I LOVE YOU ALL!" he
called, bouncing excitedly on his toes and waving the bouquet.  His
girl-body's breasts bounced too, and the roar of the crowd increased.  That
should sell a few extra tickets, he thought, and turned to leave the arena.
	Trouble.  The crowd poured out of the seats and onto the floor.  Ranma dashed
down the rapidly closing aisle towards the exit like an Egyptian getting the
hell out of the Red Sea.  The crowd crashed together behind him as he reached
the tunnel and surged after him. 
	I wonder what set them off? he thought.  I've finished fights stark naked and
never had them charge me like this.  'Course, maybe that's it.  Maybe they
didn't get to see as much of Ranko-chan as they thought they'd paid for.
	He dashed around a corner, past two security guards, up a hallway, and into
his dressing room.  He slammed the door and threw the bolt, then leaned
against it, panting.  This girl-body may look young and sexy, he thought, but
I'm still a forty-year-old man inside.  You're slowing down, Ranma m'boy.
	The pounding of footsteps reminded him that he needed to hurry.  He peeled
off the sheer red-and-black leotard and, with a splash of hot water, reverted
to a middle-aged man.  He dressed quickly, pulling on pants, shoes, shirt, and
coat as the door began to bow inward.  Finishing with a pair of sunglasses, he
sent a quick message over the intercom and drew the bolt.  The crowd tore it
out of his hands, poured through the opening, then stopped short, disappointed.
	"As you can see," announced Ranma, "Ranko-chan isn't here.  Now, if you don't
mind, I'd like you to clear out of her room."  
	"Ladies and gentlemen," came an announcement over the PA, "Ranko-chan has
left the building."
	The crowd sagged and filed out.  One young man hung back, gazing about the room.
	"Yes?  Can I help you?" asked Ranma.
	"I... I wanted to talk to her.  To tell her..."  He blushed.
	"I thought so. Kid, you can't just barge into someone's dressing room just
because you think you like her.  It's rude.  Hell, it's downright criminal. 
How would you like it if some snot-nosed kid broke into your bedroom and
jumped on you?  Would you think that was cute?  Would you like that?  Huh?"
	"I... I guess not.  I'm sorry."
	"Good.  I'll tell you what, kid.  You give me your name and address, and I'll
see Miss Ranko sends you something nice."
	"A pair of her panties?" the boy asked hopefully.
	"Don't be obscene.  How about a nice autographed picture instead?"
	"That would be fine, sir."

	When Ranma arrived home, Akane was waiting up for him, and had him sit down
while she cooked dinner.  This meant heating prepackaged eel teriyaki meals in
the microwave, but if Akane wanted to call that cooking, Ranma wasn't going to
argue.  When the meals were done, Ranma opened his, stirred the rice, and
popped the tab on a can of Kirin.  Akane poked at her meal silently.
	"I was talking to Ryoga today," she said. 
	Ranma winced and put down his chopsticks.  "Yeah?"
	"He asked me if we had any plans to reopen the dojo."
	This was an old argument.  "What did you tell him?"
	"To talk to you."
	"I suppose he'll do that, then."  Ranma turned back to his meal.
	Akane's voice took on an edge.  "It's been four years, Ranma.  You said
prizefighting was only temporary, until the scandal died down.  Well, it's
died down.  Don't you think it's time you stopped shirking your responsibilities?"
 	Ranma scowled.  "I've made more money in four years of prizefighting than we
did in fifteen years of running that dojo.  If Ryoga needs a job, he can help
his wife in the restaurant, or go break rocks or something.  I don't see that
I owe him a job."
	"You promised Father you'd run the dojo..."
	"Your father doesn't care," interrupted Ranma.
	"Well, *I* care!" shouted Akane.  "I want my family name associated with
martial arts, not my sister's thievery!  If you had an ounce of decency, you'd
drop this Ranko-chan charade, reopen the dojo, and give poor Ryoga a job.  You
know why he can't find work."
	"The same reason he can't find anything else.  Ryoga was a lousy teacher,
anyway.  If I had to hire someone from that family, I'd hire his wife."
	"Oh, I see.  You'll hire Shampoo but not Ryoga.  I wonder why that is."
	"Shampoo's a classically trained martial artist.  Ryoga's a self-trained
brawler.  What's he going to teach kids -- getting lost?"
	"Akane rose stiffly.  "Maybe he could teach them about honor."  She turned
and stalked away.
	Ranma stared at his meal for a long time, then picked it up and stuffed it
into the trash.  What a lousy way to end the day.

Chapter 2:
Oath of Venegance.

	The sun was beginning to set as Hidoshi finally found his teacher's isolated
cabin.  Years ago, his mother had taken him to this mysterious hermit to learn
the ways of the martial arts.  His classmates had been buzzing with rumors at
school.  One said that the hermit was a great warrior from a distant land. 
One said that he had withdrawn from the world because he had been spurned by a
beautiful woman.  One said that he turned into a duck.
	"You're an idiot," Hidoshi had snapped.  "Nobody can turn into a duck."
	His classmate had insisted.  "He's a duck, I tell you!"
	So Hidoshi hadn't know what to expect from his new teacher.  Master Mousse,
as he insisted on being called, had been a fierce taskmaster, drilling his
pupil relentlessly as he seemed to stare through Hidoshi in a way that never
failed to give the boy chills.  Eventually, though, Hidoshi had realised that
his master was half blind and too proud to wear his glasses.
	He did turn into a duck, though.
	Master Mousse emerged from the cabin on hearing his pupil's approach.  "Where
have you been, boy!" he snapped, facing a nearby tree.  "Neglecting your
training again?"
	"Put your glasses on, you blind fool," Hidoshi snapped back.
	Fumbling in his robe, the man produced a pair of glasses and donned them.  He
jumped, startled, on seeing the tree and turned to face Hidoshi.  
	"I came to say goodbye," said Hidoshi, lowering his head.  "My mother is
dead."  That fact sat in the back of his mind like a toad, but Hidoshi refused
to look at it.
	His teacher blinked.  "Your mother?"
	"Yes."
	Dead?"
	"Yes.  A drunken driver."
	Mousse lowered himself to the ground.  "Dead.  Akari."  He removed his
glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  "I can't believe it.  She was fine
when she last brought you.  I still have some of the food she left.  When...
when did it happen?"
	"Three days ago.  I came straight here."
	"Poor woman.  She was... kind to me.  I shall miss her."  
	Hidoshi nodded.  Tears stung his eyes, but he rubbed tham away. 
	"Before she died, she told me the name of my father.  Ryoga Hibiki.  I must
find him and...
	"Ryoga Hibiki!" screamed Mousse, leaping to his feet.  "That villain!  I
always thought Saotome was my nemesis, but it was him all along!  The very day
Saotome married, Hibiki made his move!"
	"What are you talking about?"  
	"Your father stole my Shampoo!"
	"Big deal.  Buy some more."
	Mousse cuffed him, hard.  "Idiot!  Listen to your elders with your mouth
closed and your ears open, instead of the other way 'round.  Once, I was in love."
	"No shit?"  
	"None.  Oh, she was beautiful.  Hair like silk... wide eyes...
	"Uh-huh."
	"Sweet, soft lips...  long legs...
	"Okay."
	"Full, firm breasts..."  Mousse's hands crept up and cupped the air.
	"Will you get on with it!"
	"I loved her, but she was pledged to another.  But he didn't want her, he
wanted this other girl, Akane.  And on the day he married Akane, the day my
love would finally be free...
	"Yes?"
	"Hibiki beat her!  He forced her to marry him!"
	"He BEAT her?"
	"I never had a chance!"
	"That SLIME!"
	"And I could have done it this time, too.  I'd been practicing."
	"I'll KILL him!"
	"What?  You'll what?"
	Hidoshi stood trembling, fists clenched, nostrils wide.  "He is a monster!  A
man like that must not be allowed to live!  I must destroy him, not just for
my mother's sake, but for the sake of all women."
	"Your mother.  Yes."  Mousse fell silent, and they watched the sun sink
through the trees.
	"I still have some of her food," said Mousse at last.  "It's not much -- just
some rice balls -- but I'd like to share it with you.  We could eat it
together and... and remember her."