A Ranma 1/2 fanfic by Mike Simmons.  All characters herein are property of 
Takahashi Rumiko.  If you really feel the need to take legal action, I 
warn you that my elite staff of cabbit law professionals stands ready to 
seize your assets and launch an immediate countersuit.  Just thought I'd 
warn ya. ^_^

Commentary, criticism, and blunt objects can be sent to me at: 
msimmons@bcgroup.net

Oh yeah, visit my homepage at http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Garden/2506 
so you can brag about it to your friends. 

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-- Oil & Water -- (Part V)

	Morning poured across Nerima with the sun.  Ranko blinked in the 
light that normally would have been softened by recent sleep.  She had 
been up all night, and the early daylight was harsh on her senses.  Ranko 
slowly unfolded herself from the windowsill where she had sat, half-dozing 
and waiting for the sun.  Dully, she reached down and picked up the pack 
from where it leaned against the wall.  {Time to go.}  She took one last 
lingering glance around the room which had been hers... sort of.  Ranko 
shouldered the pack with a quick, explosive motion  Even her own memories 
were only partly her own.  

	"I don't want to be one-half of anybody."  

	The pack straps tugged at her shoulders as she descended the 
stairs, not caring who saw her.  {They can keep their damn pity.}  The 
sound of arguing voices from outside drew her attention as she opened the 
front door.  {I must have dozed off for a while.  I didn't expect anyone 
to be up this early.}  Ranko tugged her pack straps tighter, and her mouth 
became a grim line.  {It doesn't matter.}  She pushed the door open, and 
stepped out, just in time to see Genma launching himself at his son.

	"Ranma!" he bellowed, launching a swift series of jabs at the 
rapidly evading Ranma.  "How could you do this to your own father?  How 
could you hold out on me?"  

	"Look, I told you already!  It was an accident!"  Genma pivoted 
and flicked out a couple of round kicks toward Ranma's head.  The younger 
Saotome ducked, and came up underneath, trapping the offending leg.  He 
pushed forward with a knuckle-fist on Genma's breastbone with his free 
hand.  Genma winced, Ranma was grinding his knuckle in a little harder 
than was necessary.  He assumed a martyred expression and folded his arms.

	"I just think that for my only son to have found a cure for his 
curse, and not shared it with his own father..."  Too late, Ranma realized 
that the folded arms were a blind.  Genma quickly brought his arms up to 
snare Ranma's wrist, and threw his son in a beautiful arc.  "What ever 
happened to family loyalty?"  Ranma snorted at these words as he landed in 
a crouch.  

	"Gee Pop, I don't know!  Were you thinking about family loyalty 
when you sold me for a couple of lousy fish?  Or when you decided to 
engage me to Ucchan just so you could get your hands on a bunch of free 
okonomiyaki?"  Ranma leaped towards his father with a flying kick that 
Genma threw up an arm to ward off.  At the last second before contact, 
Ranma dropped to the ground and spun on his hands, his feet scissoring 
Genma's own.  The elder Saotome toppled and rolled backwards toward the 
house, springing to his feet again.  

	"Foolish boy!  You should thank me for putting up with you as long 
as I did!"  Genma raised his eyes heavenward in a pleading gaze.  "Oh 
great gods who watch over men and pandas, why couldn't you grant me a 
child who would show me some respect?"  When no answer came, Genma dropped 
his head, and noticed Ranko.  He gave the sky overhead a thankful nod.  
"Thank you!  A respectful daughter will do just fine!"  Genma bounded 
towards the red-haired girl standing in the doorway, arms outstretched.  
"Daughter!"

	Ranko's dead stare halted him in his tracks.  An flaming angry 
look wouldn't even have affected him, he got those from Ranma all the time 
and they rolled right off of Genma like water off a stone.  Ranko's look 
was cold as ice.  Ranma's father slowly backed off, shaken by the sheer 
menace inherent in the pig-tailed girl's eyes.  Her words were flat and 
brooked no argument.

	"I'm not your daughter, old man."

	Oblivious to the stares of Ranma and his father, Ranko walked 
slowly, deliberately towards the gate.  At the front doors, she halted.  
"Ranma,"  Ranko uttered without turning around.  "Take care of Akane.  Or 
Ryoga will be the least of your worries."  Her words held an utter and 
unshakable certainty, both a promise and a threat.  She slipped quietly 
through the gate and was gone.  

	Soun watched all of this from the window up on the second floor.  
The morning was so still that even Ranko's final soft parting words had 
carried effortlessly up to where he stood watching.  It was with a 
troubled conscience that Soun turned from the window.  {Did I do the right 
thing, I wonder?}  He sighed, and placed his palms together.  {Faith has 
never been more than a last resort to a martial artist.  We require too 
much faith in ourselves to ever release any of it.  But still...}  
Stilling his thoughts, Soun bowed his head in prayer.  {Amaterasu Omikami, 
please watch over her.  Lend her your warmth, for the cold world weighs 
heavy upon her soul...}

		*	*	*

	Ryoga leaned back in his chair and took a swig of his glass of 
iced tea.  The outdoor cafe was only a couple of blocks from the Tendo 
dojo, and shaded by a couple of large trees.  He had ordered a little 
while ago.  {Finally, I can have some real food!} Ryoga salivated at the 
thought of a breakfast made of something other than instant curry or 
noodles.  Camping didn't lend itself well to good eating, and he was a 
mediocre cook at best.  He kept an eye on the road.  {If I have to follow 
Ranko wherever she plans on going, I might as well have a good breakfast 
first.}

	He set his glass down on the table with a thump, rattling the 
cutlery.  {Why did I ever agree to this in the first place?}  Ryoga 
frowned.  It had -seemed- like the right thing to do.  Besides, Akane had 
been so pleased when he agreed.  {I don't know...}  Ryoga's uneasy mood 
vanished as he spotted the waitress making her way towards his table 
balancing a large tray above her shoulder.  She placed it down in front of 
him, smiling brightly.  

	"Here you are, sir!  The chef's best omelet, and a bowl of miso 
soup!  If there's anything else you need, just ask.  Enjoy your breakfast." 
Ryoga picked up a pair of chopsticks as she walked away.  Closing his eyes 
for a moment, Ryoga inhaled the delicious aroma.  Contentment washed 
through him.  {Oh man, this is the best!}  He nabbed a piece of the omelet 
with his chopsticks and chewed it, soaking in the rich flavors.  
{Delicious.}  Ryoga opened his eyes, preparing to chow down on the best 
breakfast he'd ever had.  He caught a glimpse of red hair from the street.

	"No..."  Ryoga muttered with his mouth full.  He looked back up, 
willing it to be somebody else.  Ranko was crossing the street with a brisk 
stride, heading away from him.  Ryoga looked back down at his breakfast.  
A vision of Akane came, and her gratefulness when he agreed to watch over 
Ranko for a while.  But the omelet looked so delicious!  Ryoga whimpered.  
{No...}  He eyed Ranko's rapidly retreating form, and gave the fresh miso 
soup a mournful look.  {Another month of nothing but noodles versus a 
favor for Akane...}

	"Argh!"  Standing up, Ryoga dropped a few bills on the table and 
picked up his pack.  Grabbing his umbrella, he bolted after the distant 
Ranko.  Ryoga savored the mouthful of omelet for as long as he could 
before swallowing it.  "This -really- sucks," he muttered as he ran.  
Catching up to Ranko, he slowed to match her stride, shrugging into his 
packstraps and settling it comfortably on his back.  Ranko gave him a 
curious look as he stowed his umbrella behind his head on top of the pack.  

	"So," Ryoga said nonchalantly.  "Where're you headed?"  Ranko's 
mouth tightened, and she increased her pace.  Ryoga sped up easily, his 
longer legs making it easy to keep up with her.  

	"Away from here.  Why should -you- care?"  Ranko answered without 
looking at him, her eyes fixed on the road in front of her.  

	"What a coincidence!"  Ryoga laughed weakly, hand behind his head.  
"That's just where I was going!  Mind if I go with you?"  Ranko halted.  
Her hand flashed out and gripped Ryoga by the front of his shirt, pulling 
him down slightly so that their gazes were level.

	"I'm not in the mood for games, Ryoga!  Now tell me what you're 
doing following me!"  Ryoga bristled.  Even if Ranko was a girl, he still 
didn't like being talked to that way.  He knocked her hand away, tugging 
his shirt down again.  Ryoga folded his arms with a humph.  His temper, 
never far from the surface, chafed at this cavalier treatment.

	"You're lucky, Ranko!  If it weren't for Akane, I'd have let you 
walk right on by!  You should thank me for giving up the best meal I've 
had in weeks!"  Ranko's face turned ugly at his words.  

	"What does Akane have to do with this?"  Ranko moved threateningly 
toward Ryoga.  The morning sun seemed to set her hair aflame.  Her every 
move radiated a sharply attuned possibility for violence.  Ryoga stared at 
her in wonderment for a moment.  Rationality had little place in her eyes.  
{She really wouldn't care if she hurt me right now,} Ryoga thought, amazed. 
{I can't think of anything more dangerous than a consummate martial artist 
with a complete lack of compassion.}  He chose discretion over valor and 
backed off.

	"She asked me to travel with you for a while, as a favor!  Since 
when have I ever refused Akane anything?"  

	Ranko's lip curled in derision.  "I -don't- need a babysitter!"  
Ryoga looked at the shaking, angry girl in front of him.  It reminded him 
of the times when Ranma had been overcome by his fear of cats and crossed 
the boundary.  Ranko's small frame was bursting with vital, ferocious 
animal energy, poised to attack at the slightest provocation.  She 
shifted, but her baleful stare never let up.  "I just want to be alone.  I 
don't want to see you, I don't want to hear you, I don't want to -know- 
you, Ryoga!  You just run on back to Akane and drool over her like 
everybody else!"  She made a violent gesture, motioning for him to 
leave.

	"I don't care where you go, just don't follow me.  You got that, 
pig-boy?"  Ryoga's fists knotted at the insult.  The need to lash out 
bubbled in his brain, until he thought he would bust open like a 
poorly-made firecracker.  {She's a girl.}  His mind repeated patiently.  
{She's not Ranma, she's a -girl- and you can't fight her.  Not that way.}  
Ryoga clutched onto the thought and repeated it until he wasn't quite so 
angry.  With the fading of anger came new thoughts, and Ryoga realized.  
{I -can- fight her!}  A small mocking smile came to him.

	"Do you really hate Akane, then?"

	"No!  I just..."  Ranko halted in midsentence.

	"Listen, Ranko!  I may be dense, but I'm not stupid!"  Ryoga 
gesticulated wildly.  "Remember what I told you at the Tendos?  Now you 
know what it's like?  It hurts, doesn't it?"  

	"So what?"  Ranko yelled angrily, swiping an arm across her face.  
Ryoga's sharp words had the sting of truth to them.  {Akane will never 
love me now.  I'm a girl forever.  She has Ranma.  And I have nothing.}  
She gritted her teeth.  {Ranma.  It's not fair!  Now he's whole again, 
he's all of himself!  Why should he have happiness when I feel like this?}

	"It hurts, yes."  Ryoga continued grimly.  "But why should you 
suffer this?  Why not blame it on someone else?  On Ranma?  That's easy to 
do, I know.  Oh, it's -real- easy to blame Ranma for all of life's woes.  
But you're not like me.  You have too much against you, and here you are, 
running away."  

	"I didn't run away!"  Ranko protested, but her mind was already 
telling her the opposite.  {You didn't have to leave.  Mr. Tendo asking 
you was such an easy way out, so easy just to give in.  You could have 
gotten a job, or taught classes, that would have taken care of the 
financial problem.  No, that wasn't it at all.  You saw a way out and you 
took it.}  

	"A person can only take so much futility."  Ryoga's tone became a 
little less harsh.  "Every time I come to Nerima, I stay as long as I can 
stand it.  But eventually?  I see again and again that Akane is not going 
to love me, and I leave.  I think you've come to the same kind of 
conclusion that I have, only a little more quickly due to the 
circumstances."  His mocking grin remained, but was somehow redirected 
towards himself.

	"You don't have any real plans on where to go, do you?"  He took 
Ranko's mute silence as an assent.  "Well, I guarantee that travelling 
with me is the easiest way in the world to stay lost."  He folded his 
arms, obviously waiting for her decision.

	Ranko's head whirled.  Her thoughts were tumultous, chaotic, and 
no longer sure of themselves at all.  {I don't know if I want to go 
anywhere, or nowhere at all.   I don't know what I want... I just wish I 
could -forget-.}  The sun warmed her back, and the breeze from the highway 
tossed her pigtail about.  Ryoga was a solid presence before her, a rock 
that waited implacably.  She didn't want company.  She didn't want a 
friend.  {Akane asked him to come with me, to... watch over me.}  Ranko 
reluctantly accepted the concept, distasteful though it was.  

	{She was worried about me,} Ranko thought.  {She cares.  But is it 
because of something else, or just because I'm another girl, and shouldn't 
be wandering around without some kind of protection?}  A small part of her 
whispered, {But at least she -cares-.}  Ranko felt a small droplet of 
happiness sparkle in the deep pool of her depression.  It was enough.  She 
hitched her packstraps up.  Her expression was stern, but not completely.  
For once, there was something else there.

	"All right, Ryoga.  But I don't want you thinkin' I'm some kind of 
wimp or something.  I can beat the stuffing out of you anytime you need me 
to prove that, so don't get any ideas, okay?" 

	Ryoga's mocking grin lost its unpleasant aspect, turning into one 
of his rare genuine smiles.  "Oh, I believe you.  You're lucky though, I 
don't fight girls."  He turned towards the road and started walking.

	"What?"  Ranko ran to catch up.  "Oh no, you're not getting out of 
this -that- easy, Ryoga!"  The two martial artists headed through a couple 
of cross streets, insulting each other all the way.  The good-natured 
bickering died off eventually when they turned onto the highway.  As the 
sun climbed higher into the blue sky over Nerima, Ranko and Ryoga followed 
the ribbon of concrete off to the south, their feet crunching on the 
gravel shoulder.

		*	*	*

	{Ranma's girl side is now her own person, hmmm?}  Pulling the 
heavy embroidered curtain across the entrance to her room above the 
Nekohanten, Shampoo exhaled.   A smile curved her lips.  {Then it is time 
to pay back a debt.  One that is long overdue.}  Crossing the large 
spartan room, she unlocked the heavy teakwood box with a small key, 
stashing the key back in her leggings.  Flinging open the thick wooden 
lid, she reached in and removed her heart's companion gently.  

	Shampoo angled the killing sword towards her, admiring the pattern 
of light shimmering along the deadly blade.  {Ranma will be a wonderful 
husband, but he is not the be-all and end-all of existence.  He'll 
doubtless be thankful for a respite from my pursuing him.}  She laughed 
softly.  {For a brief time, I have something a bit more important to think 
about than dalliance.}  Rising to her feet, Shampoo brought the sword into 
a ready stance.  She was still, yes, but not a frozen stillness.  It was a 
static kind of stillness, one that translated effortlessly into motion.

	Shampoo leapt forward, thrusting at an invisible opponent.  {An 
Amazon is fierce.}  She spun, a series of upward cuts blurring together.  
{She knows not fear.}  Both hands went to the hilt, sweeping the blade 
downward and spiralling in.  {Loyal in her deeds...}  Shampoo whirled the 
blade in front of her, a shrill steel whine rising thin through the air.  
{Righteous in her fury...}  She flicked the point down and reversed her 
grip.  The sword descended like the wrath of heaven, halting just short of 
the floor.  {She is a goddess of battle, and death is her watchword.}  
Shampoo kissed the pommel of her sword, and her words were full of 
promise.

	{I gave you the kiss of death, Ranko.  Now I come to fulfill my 
debt.  I, Amazon, shall be your undoing.}

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Author's Notes:  This would be the point where my younger sister would 
say "Houston, we have a problem!", that being her usual response to an 
impending threat.  ^_^  I hope you enjoyed Part V, this is the first 
section that I've actually had to go back and *gasp* rewrite!  It was 
bugging me something fierce, but I think I've got it this time.  By the 
way, if you want the full effect, read the last scene with Shampoo while 
listening to "Love You To Death" by Type O Negative.  Cool song! 

Mike.