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A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fic
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Switch: Herbs and Spices Day 1
by Nikholas "Switch" F. Toledo
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Please do remember that Ranma 1/2 is a trademark and a copyright of and 
by some big name people and companies I am not even worthy to introduce.  
Anybody who says that I took any of their stuff better not find me 
hiding.  Also, great thanks to whoever reads this and likes it, good 
thanks to whoever reads it anyhow, and teeny-weeny thanks to whoever else 
even saw this. 
------------------------------
The Vector Mark of Approval is the foremost seal of excellence of NFT 
fics.  The freshness, correctness, and F-ness of each work pass through 
rigorous tests of labial dexterity and cognitive consistency.  Grammar 
checked and taste tested by the highly esteemed board of Vector, Editor-
in-Chief.  (No small thanks to Peggy Stonnel who read it without knowing 
what she was getting into and ended up knowing more about the language.)
------------------------------



                      Sixth Sense and Sensibilities



	As one reaches the evening in beautiful and balmy Nerima, one 
begins to feel a tension in the air.  Some static electricity of unknown 
wavelength to travel down the fragrant air.  This is mildly known as 
perversion.
	As the sun sets, so set in the deeper darker evils unknown to such 
kinder souls in the midmorning, or even the afternoon.  But, as sure as 
the dark closes upon the district, there will be no rest for all.

	Kasumi was on her way home, with a basket half-filled with 
groceries.  In her left hand, she had Dr. Tofu's book, which held the 
page she was on with a bookmark of sorts.  Probably a piece of paper she 
had picked up somewhere.  The doctor had been so distracting.  
	But it was getting late.  She had to admit that she rarely let 
herself leave the house, as it was always in some state of disrepair and 
disarray these days, and her visits to the clinic were a frequent and 
reliable breath of fresh air.  As she nodded barely to the west and the 
sun winked sadly at her, she realized that she was also rarely out this 
late in the day.  She had already missed lunch, but she felt justified.  
Her free left hand lazily traced the fence mesh while she sauntered 
slowly to the household, her omnipresent smile just slightly more deep 
and felt.

	After logging in some time waiting tables, Shampoo hit upon an 
idea.  She supposed that she had thought of this some time before, for 
entirely different reasons.  As she donned an apron of pink frills and 
thin wool, she knew exactly why she hadn't done it before:  Amazon law 
was true and fair, as all Amazons should strive to be.  She had had her 
shortcomings, but she had always believed that a man should give himself 
to a woman because he believes that she is the one he wants.  (a matter 
of grave meditation would follow if she had to wonder why Ranma was so 
adamant about choosing Akane:  she must have some cunning spell upon him, 
which she would break.  or else some deeper truth...)
	Nonetheless, she knew well how to concoct such alchemy as 
necessary, and in the case of the pervert called Tsubasa, she was willing 
to pull all stops, else (gasp) be prepared to wed him, in the unlikely 
chance that he beat her groom.  Of course, she could just have her 
husband beat him, but it was always said that an Amazon can hold her own.

	Akane was starting to heat up again.
	"What do you think you're doing?"  she told an (evidently) 
inattentive Ranma, who stood on his hands, facing away from her.
	"Wha--?"  was the infuriating response.
	It must be noted, of course, that Akane was not to hit him because, 
as Ranma had to learn (the hard way), she was not in the right frame of 
mind.  Soun had noticed this while maintaining an unassuming position 
near the door of the dojo.  She was giving in too much to the anger, and 
this anger could be used to your disadvantage.
	Soun watched the two lovers spar in the tradition of the anything-
goes school:  any-which-way.  Ranma leapt upward as Akane started with a 
sweeping kick to the arms and head, before twirling in mid-air to lithely 
land behind her.  She knew that this was going to happen, and was 
prepared to throw a set of barbells at him.  He, on the other hand, was 
likewise prepared.  She faked a throw with her right, which wasn't her 
preferred side anyhow, and the arc of the metal whizzed past harmlessly 
to his blindside.  The ten-kilo weight thudded dully behind him.
	As Akane assumed a sumo stance facing him (which, can be noted, is 
similar to the horse riding stance of several arts, with the distinction 
of having a lower center of gravity, as sumo wrestlers rarely use horses, 
for obvious reasons), with a grimace of promised pain, Ranma decided on a 
change of pace.  Grabbing onto her blue belt, he slid his legs underneath 
the wide space presenting itself under his partner.  At the same time, 
using that same joint as the fulcrum, he pulled her weight toward the 
ground.
	Ranma was sure he'd seen this maneuver once too often (one of which 
could be dancing lessons), excluding the barbells.  The last would not 
have mattered much except for the fact that one of these was on the 
floor, and that Akane's foot had caught itself in it.  And so she was 
halfway to the floor, Ranma could not find an alternative to her hitting 
it.
	Using a property of the Saotome school's techniques for mid-air 
grappling, he again held on to the fastening of her upper gi (otherwise 
known as the belt-ranks) and, without shoving the unanchored female, 
pulled himself upward along her body, extending an arm in order to claim 
her shoulders, hoping to cushion the latter with his body.
	(It must be noted here that most of the arguments and embarrassing 
moments which could have lead to rather prickly positions, among others, 
could begin here.  The fact that Soun was watching all this, he decided 
to take some really quick action-telephotography lessons, as well as call 
the other members of the house.  This might, some would say, 
ineffectively explain why no romance could safely be held at the training 
facilities, thus a reason for marital festivities to be held at bay.)
	Akane, at the point of falling, felt the need to hold on to the 
barbells.  She knew she could execute a proper roll, but Ranma was 
hanging on to her waist and bringing her down.  This easily could have 
been avoided if she was focused on the match, instead of aspects of it.  
She closed her eyes, hoping to avoid pain and/or shock by not being able 
to see.
	Sweat rolled.

	Ukyo woke startled.  In a flash, it was evening.  Her stomach was 
growling, as she had forgotten to have her lunch.  She realized that 
Ryoga must also be quite famished, unless he liked inhaling his 
okonomiyaki.  Fastening her wrap-around, she mildly reminded herself to 
start wearing brassieres, as she didn't wear her bandages to stifle her 
chest growth anymore.  Also, the number of perverts in Nerima was 
astonishingly huge, and she didn't want to get peeped on in case she fell 
asleep like that.
	She numbly registered the fact that Ryoga was not on the mat she 
had lain for him earlier.  This was bad, but there wasn't any sign as to 
where he could have gone, nor of his actual passing.  Her sleep-fogged 
brain took no time in locating him without informing other parts of her, 
thus she had tripped on him, almost falling.  Having righted herself, she 
noticed the profuse blood which avoided clinging onto his clothes.  Must 
have been some stain-off of sorts.  Anyway, waking him wouldn't exactly 
be the best course of action. 
	Hefting him along his stomach, Ukyo considered where she was to 
drop him.  She nixed the mat, as he might find a way to vanish after 
waking.  On second thought, he could do that anywhere.  With an 
indeterminate amount of disgust, Ryoga was deposited on her bed, in order 
to induce the most comfort and the most slumber.
	Leaving him snoring, Ukyo began to prepare dinner.

	Night began, and near Mt. Fuji, a similar fount of action was 
awaiting to uncoil, feeding upon the stillness of the dark.  It moved, 
and assimilated, gathering information necessary for modular activity.  
Soon, it will attack.

	Mousse blinked.
	He hadn't been glomped before, thus had not been able to identify 
the particular sound a glomp makes with the particular warmth a female 
body covered only by a leotard exudes while executing such a move.  He 
blink-blinked once, then cursed the Will That Be for depriving him of 
sight at such an inopportune occasion.
	Not knowing quite what to do, he couldn't just let his hands do the 
figuring out.  He couldn't do that exactly.  He could just have been 
coated with tar or some other warm and unlikely substance.  He could have 
been stuck in a comforter or something.  He could just hear his own self-
made explanations fly away as Kodachi started to attack his ears with 
some seductive nibbling.
	Kodachi was not going to let this one get away, oh no.  Here he was 
not even stuttering or flinching.  A man who was willing to take all she 
was going to give, and more.  She ran circles on his pecs.  Oh, she knew 
what to do with this darling, little boy.
	Her fantasizing (coupled with decided teasing and biting) was very 
sorely interrupted by the sounds of the servants checking out the 
miscreant duck.  She had forgotten about it, but she believed she was 
justified.  She wasn't going to reveal the presence of the man of her 
dreams to the rest of the world quite yet, not until she has made him 
hers and hers alone.  She tilted slightly backwards, just to check if 
Mousse was to give resistance at the last possible moment, then streaked 
through the early evening sky, not even leaving a parting laugh.

	Tsubasa was halfway to tears.  He had scoured the district in 
search for the one he loved when he bounded past a window.  Not knowing 
better not to peek (as all households in Nerima are guarded with all 
sorts of easy-access weaponry, one could never be sure who's out there), 
he saw a familiar-looking ninja, hefting an unconscious young man to her 
bed.  The scene flew by him, without much registering beyond the obvious.
	Without really knowing why, he had whole tears forming when he 
resumed his more frantic search.

	Nodoka yawned.  She was quite ready to turn in, but she checked her 
list again.  She'd have to get all of that finished tomorrow morning, so 
that she could leave for the umpteenth time to reclaim her family.  Her 
hopes were starting to dim, as there was probably something bad that 
could happen, or could have happened, and her family could be shattered 
before they could be finally reunited.  But she held firm.  Those were 
just silly, trivial worries.  She could trust the Tendos, they were just 
the oldest friends.

	Nabiki was in the dojo, with Ranma.  This type of thing wasn't 
exactly procedure in the household, but since Kasumi had just come back 
and was preparing dinner, and Akane wasn't planning to talk to him 
anytime before the next century (as per usual), she was apparently voted 
unanimously by the fathers.  He was sitting Indian with his hand on his 
unbandaged cheek, all the while his pigtail twirling in mid-air.  She 
thought that it was kind of weird that so much hair was tied there that, 
if Ranma wanted to, he could make it do all sorts of gestures.  It was as 
much a giveaway as the teenager's face, for all that it was worth.  She 
was waiting for the tirade that was dancing in his mind, quite visible 
through his blue eyes.
	For his part, he actually seemed to consider his next words.  That 
she owed to her reputation, personality, and ability to make a buck.  If 
it was free, she turn it into yen.  She absently licked her lips, 
thinking that she could turn it into even more, if needed.
	He could have started out with the mildly innocuous topic of the 
save with the face hair.  He hadn't event thought of consulting the 
medicine man, and he was inclined to string the old ghoul for information 
(which pays heavier than even the middle Tendo sister's rates), until he 
focused slightly on the legs of the self-made woman.  Not that it would 
matter to him, (and since it wasn't really any of his business) he 
noticed that none of the sisters were of the habit of shaving their legs.  
He himself was glad that he apparently did not inherit his father's 
hairiness, and so was spared of the need, as his alterego would need.  In 
fact, he was lucky to have gotten rid of the mustache early on, else he 
grow one even in his female guise. 
	It didn't even matter that he didn't start the conversation.  She 
could pick it up even if she opened.  Ranma crossly waited for speech to 
commence.
	Nabiki took a hard look at his (now) rugged face, and into his 
eyes.  No one seemed to notice that he dimpled whenever he laughed, just 
below them.  It made for a glittering look, she had seen him used only on 
certain occasions, all at her sister.  These two were so transparent.  
Just like earlier.
	Much to the beleaguered heir's disadvantage, his companion didn't 
even ask about it.  She knew enough, had seen enough, and had enough 
shots, to make her quota.  She had more pressing matters to take care of.
	"Tell me about Ryoga."
	It took him off guard immediately.  She made a faraway look that 
implied she wasn't paying attention to him at all.  He made stares.  He 
even figured to wave his hand in front of her.  To disconcert him 
further, she just as quickly retained a poker face.
	He studied her intently.  Ryoga could just be someone who wanted to 
kill him for some reason or another (spearheaded by the claim that he had 
caused the persistent jerk to be cursed at Jusenkyo's sorrowful pool of 
drowned li'l black piglet), but he could trust the guy to do the right 
thing at the right time.  (Some dark corner of his mind supplied the idea 
that he might think that the idiot could do the right thing for that 
sexless macho chick he was forcibly engaged to, but the more sturdy 
neurons talking to his vocal mechanisms kept shut.)  What he couldn't 
exactly get his finger on was the angle Nabiki was using on anything he 
could say about him.  The fool was after him anyway, on a regular enough 
basis, without any prevarication. 
	And the two were on well-enough terms to actually tolerate each 
other most of the time.  He was probably as close to a friend as he could 
get, considering his propensity to trip up anybody within his immediate 
concern.
	Finally, the thought that there was something not quite within his 
grasp about the nature of the conversation to occur, which caused him to 
be more cautious than he already was.
	"What would you want to know?"

	Ukyo ate by candlelight, as she was wont to.  Her dinner was 
solemn, and benignly undisturbed.  Her music was the light snoring her 
dozing and invisible roommate made, telling her that he was indeed 
nearby.  She had thought to wake him up, but the fact the she was going 
to end up in her bed, with him, sent waves of unrepressed anxiety and 
embarrassment.  She could not, would not, tell him of the discoveries she 
had made for them tonight.  Not while he was seized by the fancy of 
Nabiki, as he no doubt was.  A male ego was a fragile thing, but Ryoga's 
was worse.  She'd seen him carry on when he was bent out of shape by 
either Ranma or Akane (involuntarily), and he would somehow be passing 
nearby.  A kind word or two, some warm food, and he would be good as new, 
but she saw a kindred type of searching in his eyes.  The sadness 
belonging to some soul jilted by one for another, of unforgiving and 
unmerciful fate, and of being alone.  Alone, was how they were.
	She pushed the plates, too tired to clean them.  Tomorrow morning, 
they would see suds, but tonight:  rest.

	Dinner was well underway at the Tendo dojo, and the mood was tense.  
Kasumi was cheerful but contained, and Nabiki was calculatedly distant.  
The four martial-artists-at-large were unspeaking, concentrated upon the 
food served, disinclined to start conversation lest Fate be tempted to 
deal the uppercut.  By some unspoken agreement, apparently, whoever would 
call forth the wrath of the Terrible One, would have to answer directly, 
i.e. be the one to go and capture the lecher.
	The affianced couple had other plans, beyond the cold war sizzling 
between their voluminous visual forces.  Nabiki smirked mildly, glancing 
upon the two, and mischievously opened the television set, much to the 
chagrin of the two dojo heads.
	She sat back as the business news prattled at how the latest opened 
Switch, Inc. had made an impressive debut, selling out all stocks within 
a record three days.  No one noticed, as the youngest Tendo chose to 
vacate the proximity of a certain pig-tailed pervert, which the referred 
to was delighted to oblige, the older two defenders sighing their 
gratitude over the lack of excitement, and with the eldest sister 
clearing the low-slung table.
	One of the well-known errors in human judgment is the ability of 
people to completely forget a danger situation that presented itself mere 
moments ago, mostly distracted by shiny things.  Although shiny things 
rarely have concerns with the matters of mice and cats, many have 
complemented the void left by this category of materials.  In the case of 
the friends, Tendo and Saotome, it was a board game called go.  The 
moment that they revealed the board to the world, the world chose to spit 
it back at them.
	Ranma was in the garden, near the pond, setting up a wooden post to 
send volleys of pain upon, he chilled slightly at the touch of old wood.
	"Son-in-law."
	Turning around, he saw what he expected to see whenever the jab of 
sharp wood would encounter his shoulder blades:  an old ghoul.  Not 
bothering to bend down to meet her bulbous eyes, he said, "it's you."
    	Looking up from her vantage point, she continued.  "Happy's been 
sighted, sonny boy.  Time to pack your bags."
	Immediately, both Soun and Genma appeared to provide the necessary 
equipment for the three of them.  Kasumi took the hint quickly and was 
waving a scarf goodbye, throwing cheery good luck at them.  Nabiki simply 
sojourned to her room for her own purposes.
	As they were getting pushed along, Ranma could only ask:  "Where 
are we going?"
	Cologne was hopping along on her walking stick as they turned into 
the road.  "Mt. Fuji, sonny.  Hope you brought a camera on you."
	From a window on the second floor, a worried bride-to-be prayed in 
silence for the safe return of her reluctant groom.

	Closing the door to her room, she caressed the light switch with 
her right hand.  After consideration, she went in without turning it on.  
She glided to her bed and slumped into it noiselessly.  For a few 
moments, there was no movement.
	She turned on her back and stared at the blackened ceiling in her 
blackened room.  Wide-eyed, she refocused her vision to within, 
neglecting the breeze wheedling its way through the half-closed window, 
taking in it the curtains.  She hadn't even noticed that the wind 
reversed itself, taking the self-same curtains with it out of the room, 
waving into the horizon.
	Nabiki smirked.  She'd been acting too strange today, even for 
herself.  She had thought that she could talk it through to herself, but 
it didn't help.  She had to admit that she was mightily confused.  Her 
heart was beating heavily in her chest as she thought about him.
	She wished that she had a set of stuffed toys or maybe even a 
little pig to hug.
	But there was so much trouble in the offing.  There was Ukyo, of 
course, and Akane.  There had to be a little something for him in her, 
despite the fact that she was 100% Ranma.  Why else would she put a 
bandanna of his on her little piggie?
	The night promised to be cold.



                             Seventh Sign-Off



	Mousse was flying.
	He could feel the whizz of the air in his ears, and knew right away 
that something was indeed very, very wrong.  For one, the one who had 
propelled him into the troposphere's middle was the rather urgently 
passionate set of teeth and arms which had captured him.  This had meant 
that this particular set was, in fact, belonging to either a) another 
martial artist or b) an alien.  Banking upon the first idea meant that he 
actually knew this person, since martial artists in Nerima tended to meet 
and bash each other.  He started to wonder who it was.
	Secondly, this was because whoever it is probably would have 
estimated his body weight incorrectly.  But their current ability to 
generate trajectory can lead him to no other conclusion except that this 
person was also a practitioner of Hidden Weapons techniques.
	With the proper moves, he wriggled about a bit and produced an 
anchor, which was thrown with a sufficiently large force, bringing them 
down along with it.

	Kuno had a satisfying dinner.  Sasuke was pleased as well (but he'd 
never show it):  the mistress had been missing during the meal.  When she 
didn't cook, she had this penchant for lacing the meals with all sorts of 
herbs and spices.  The manservant mumbled incoherently about how the 
flavor of sashimi was not-quite, but very nearly, utterly destroyed by a 
dash of arsenic in chloroform.  (Not that it would be detected by 
anything but the finest of gourmets.)
	The skein of the Kuno Legacy adjourned to his shrines, leaving the 
unassuming ninja to worry about his next task:  the duty of feeding the 
mistress's pet.  This usually fell upon the shoulders of the lady of the 
house, since she was the one who was spared bodily harm consistently 
during these sessions, but her absence not only required primary alarm 
(how would the principal take it?) but some aftershocks as well (who 
would have to feed the felonious reptile?).  He braced himself, armed 
with the bo (recently extracted from the jaws of the beast) and a trayful 
of munchies, he set out to duty.
	As the windows were always shut in a samurai's restful sanctum, 
Kuno missed the third symphony of mistaken meals and panic and pain, 
played in their own yard.

	Mt. Fuji hasn't erupted for hundreds of years now, and many say 
that it never will again.  Finding itself on two of the major 
seismovolcanic regions of the world leads many a casual monster-mania 
fiend to just veer away from it, at least until they could assure 
themselves that the top no longer has connections with the inner earth.
	In the next few days, though, pyrotechnics will be taking a minor 
encore.

	Sneaky... well, no.  Not really.
	Playful, maybe.  
 	The female made her way, nimbly fingering the switch to the kitchen 
lights.  The old wood meshed wonderfully with the new, so much that the 
fastenings had absorbed the footfalls completely.  This was the first 
time she had done this alone, but it did not bother her in the least.  
The dark hallway she was treading ended bathed in light.  Her goal, 
though, was the sliding door slightly glowing on her right.  The night 
was silent.
	Akane felt the door *swoosh* quickly open, rather than heard.  At 
this, she would have either paranoidly searched for intruders or, at 
worst case, scream in abject terror, if it weren't for the fact that she 
had heard, instead, a gently inflected, "tea, Akane?"
	(Akane's much-vaunted retort that she is, in fact, a martial 
artist, with the skills and, more importantly, the reflexes of a good 
one, would attest to the fact that Kasumi had spoken before the door had 
very audibly creaked, so as not to scare the people inside, as was 
intended.)
	The younger Tendo had relaxed before she had begun to tense up, 
cutting through the suspension of disbelief.  She turned her head away 
from the thriller on the TV and gave her elder a dimpled smile.  "Thanks, 
Kasumi."
	While handing the ceramic mug, she gingerly held her own.  She knew 
without looking about what the matter was.
	She realized a whole world of emotion in play at the moment, not 
just with Akane, but with both her siblings.  When troubled over 
something, Akane liked to distract herself for as long as she could.  On 
the other hand, Nabiki liked to face the matter, by herself.  And at 
their age (?), trouble meant only one thing.
	She could, of course, just let nature take its course.  Which would 
mean that the youngest Tendo would take matters into her own hands, and 
that the poor young man in question would end up in pain, or in traction.  
And whatever was bugging Nabiki would never come out.  She could just 
choose to be the older sister, and keep out of their business.  But that 
just wouldn't be her.
	She used the current ambiguity to turn on the lights, and to turn 
off the set.  Setting herself down across the table-top's corner to her 
baby sis, she took her first sip.  It was a bit colder than she would 
have preferred, and had implied this to her companion, who had had none 
of her own.  The stillness in her eyes as she had them transfixed on the 
drink belied her own shaky feelings.
	The truth was that Kasumi had not made light of the situation, and 
had always been concerned as to the state of affairs in the house.  It's 
just that anything that tried to put her little sister and (she had no 
doubt) her fianc�e together always ended up in a broken and bloodied 
heap.  Come to think of it, anything that tried to pull them apart shared 
that fate.  A certain sadness came from the two whenever they were caught 
alone without the other, on nights where no large-scale domestic violence 
occurred.
	She might have ventured into trying to convince one that they were 
perfect with the other, except that she had the feeling that they already 
knew.  She might have been missing out on what's been happening, even 
with her eternal vigilance.  And so, she kept to herself in these 
matters, much as they keep coming up these days.
	But enough was most definitely enough.  Much as she loved playing 
matchmaker, she couldn't bear it.  Things had to start moving, or else.
	Akane couldn't look into her eyes.  "I'll just be upstairs."  She 
stood not-too-quickly and made way for the door.
	Kasumi wasn't quite sure that she wanted her to go just yet.  
"Aren't you going to take your bath?  We could take it together you 
know."
	The shorthaired girl stopped in mid-step, and turned.  "Not 
tonight, sis.  I just feel too tired."  She faked a yawn, covering tears 
which could have been there already.  "Good night."
	Kasumi sipped.  She sighed.  Not bad, having your two sisters mope 
about, and you couldn't even talk about it with the younger one.  How 
could you handle Nabiki, then?  She sat in silence for a while, until a 
phone rang.

	Tsubasa wearied.  He was in tears, all right.  Tears and shreds.  
His dress gave out before he did, but now that the darker night has 
fallen, he couldn't cope.  Having ended up on a rooftop, he hadn't 
thought of rain when the lead weight fell on him.  Flying boats?  What 
would they think of next?  And with that, he fell into a silent clump, 
soon followed by some others.

	The train sped through the hollow night, bringing phantom speed.  A 
set of four intrepid warriors held the most common of celebrations to the 
start of a hunt:  a war dance.  But, as the most sophisticated of races 
evolve, the war dance grows with it.
	In the more ferocious cousins of the cat family, it would be held 
in the relative safety of packs, with only the starlight to dance with 
them.  The elder primates sought refuge in trees, and thus could not 
partake in such festivities, but their younger siblings rediscovered the 
tradition with their feet on the ground.  The earlier tribes had 
intricate and elaborate costumes, with well-choreographed tunes and 
striking colors.  As man became domesticated, though, the hunt was soon 
banned, but the celebration lived on in the form of songs, dances and 
video games.  A return to nature can, however, occur, and the most 
refined of spirits has many an ingenious scheme of dancing with wolves.  
	They were not the most refined of spirits.
	Cologne merely tilted her staff as Ranma, Genma and Soun passed by 
her.  Tilting back, she turned to see the youngest of her opponents jump 
up as the others teeter across the gap between their cargo tram to the 
next one.  Ranma fell upon the other two, causing them to grasp the 
ceiling of the other bus, inadvertently bridging the space.
	With a nearly feral, but effectively sub-verbal grunt, Ranma stood 
to come at the aged Amazon.  The latter took the time to mentally point 
out errors in the maneuver of her opponent, and the proper offense to 
play.  He wasn't giving that much battle aura, and kept his temperature 
near cold.  His stance belied the impracticability of a Moko Takabisha, 
as they were moving some 200 miles per hour atop Japan's fastest railway 
system.  Noting that the top speed of the bullet train was near 500 mph, 
she immediately had come upon several conclusions.
	One was that this was their stop.
	She jumped off her staff, as the train began its turn.  This 
effectively tossed the pig-tailed wonder off the cabin ceiling.  Hauling 
what and who had remained, the venerable female leapt off in pursuit.

	Ryoga opened his eyes sleepily.  He wasn't sure if they were, in 
fact, open or not, because it was too dark to see anything.  He felt kind 
of weak, and was already adapting the standard procedure upon finding 
one's self in a strange place (many have touted this to be the boot-up 
for all Hibikis).
	Step 1:  Do not panic.
	OK, done.
	Step 2:  Slowly, but surely check all body parts.
	Checking... checking... done.
	Step 3:  Find familiar landmarks.
	He started to try to turn his head.  It was on something soft.  
	What was it?  It was somewhat taut, underneath a fabric with 
frills.  It was dark.  Was it... oh God... was it Akane?
	Oh God, it was Akane, he was human, they were in bed, oh dear, step 
4, find a way out, get the hell outta here...!
	As Ryoga was wrestling with a pillow, convincing it to go through 
step 12 (find a secondary light source), while being calm and savvy as a 
man should when in bed with a woman, waking the woman that was in bed 
with him.
	"Uhhhhhhhh..."
	Ryoga stopped in mid-sentence.  Ukyo was here, too?
	He wanted to put his hands to his head, except that one of them was 
under the pillow under his head, which he thought was Akane, and another 
one was quite isolated by an arm pinned by the body which he identified 
as Ukyo's.  Quite a nice body, too.  Ohhhh dear...
	Breathe in, breathe out, stay cool, have to stop the nose bleed...
	A hand came to the rescue, with a bandanna.  Nausea gave way to a 
slightly solid feeling of his lower body.  Refocusing his eyes, he saw 
that the bandanna was his, the hand was connected to an arm trailing to 
his lower right, where his arm was being pinned by Ukyo's quite-nice 
stomach.  He couldn't see her face, but could make out that plain white 
ribbon she wears in her hair.  He just gave in to the impulse to breathe.  
Ukyo looked up from where she was, aware that he was conscious and there 
was no blood spewing from any orifices.  With her big (hopeful?) eyes, 
she peered beyond her outstretched arm.
	Ryoga had stared into her head before she had noticed, and was 
clearly was into some inner space.  His lips were wagging in a way to 
say, "step 43:  remove all flammable objects and project ki blasts into 
the clogged portion..."  Ukyo had a small cross-eyed look, and may have 
knocked his socks off if not for two facts.  These two facts were:  her 
hand, on his nose;  and, his hand, on her waist.  She would have ended up 
in orbit with him.  
	He trailed off, not quite saying anything.  She started to feel 
quite self-conscientious, indeed.  Wriggling a bit, she took the hand 
that was on the other side of her from its owner.  She blushed only 
slightly.  A young, nubile female such as her, caught in bed with a 
young, marriageable and cute martial artist, who was staring at her with 
such want, such need that was in his eyes...
	Staring at her?
	With a hand in her hand, with them in such close quarters, it was a 
wonder that she was not slapping him silly, screaming "Ryouga no baka!!" 
before sending him into the sky.  Maybe, just maybe, she might.
	
	Ranma was worried only that he'd gotten bored before they got 
there.  How long has he had to wait?  How much has he had to put up with?  
Was it worth it all?  The indignation was growing.  He knew that when the 
boredom (and, he knew, the loneliness) grew, the only way to beat it was 
with the indignation.  When the anger was gone, that was all there is.
	Doing their equivalent of the marathon, the four made their way 
through the night to the next leg, hoping to squeeze in as much time as 
they could.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------
	(Detach here)
	I have quite obviously rushed the last part of Seventh Sign-off, 
just so I can say, I'VE DONE IT, where "it" is the first day of 
activities in Switch.  Although both First Flick and Seventh Sign-off 
take up only 12 KB, I can only say that I had a schedule to keep, and 
miles to go before I sleep.
	Quite laboriously have I tried to keep the ball rolling, even 
through the technical difficulties experienced in the past month.  Hoping 
that my good buddy Scriviner has posted the first ten parts of this 
thing, I can go on to natter about 42.
	Talking about good buddies everywhere, I can at last post some 
thank yous and my... pre-reader list (ta-daah.).
	Here at NFT fics, especially mentioning Don Juan, no G (who'd liked 
to be called noG), and Vector (also known as .vector), who've always been 
at hand to toss off a few good trivia questions, without whom we'd all 
live in shame;  the cast and crew of the Entertainment Capital of UP 
Village, not mentioned above:  Joel C., Dane C., and Neil S., who have 
influenced the work enough to keep me off schedule (the naughty boys);  
the blue berets:  AR P., Edwin "Doods... no, Sir Doods" S., Lee D., Erwin 
S., and Nikholas G. Toledo, who've provided me with Sundays of anime and 
lemons;  Scriviner and TimeRunner (and all of you who've written before 
us) as the gleeful monsters of the FFML;  and, JVee V. and Alliver 
what's-his-last-name, for the dough, the mo' and the go.  These were the 
brave souls that gave time to read my fic, may they rest in peace.
	In its subsequent outings, I'd have to say that Peggy Stonnel, 
whose thorough investigation of the fic put it into better shape, is to 
blame.  And that I'm still here because Keener Barnes responded to my 
first postings within five minutes.
	Thanks go out individually:  Nikholas F. Toledo, for the name, 
ideas, so-ons, cho-ons and yo-ons;  Nikholas G. Toledo, for absolutely 
nothing;  the Entertainment Capital of UP Village, for time, cut classes, 
and bequeathal of vices;  Scriviner, who, aside from posting the first 
ten parts, found time to read them, and for generally being a good father 
(also, the Kasumi-Tofu storyline);  Joel C., for the pointers to local 
variables and finding the right way to push things through;  Dane C., for 
the hard disk, and not bugging me about Ukyo's rub;  my Mom, for more 
vice bequeathal;  and, Douglas Adams, for showing that stream of 
consciousness insanity is a bankable genre.
	Also, my references to FAQs, Who's Whos and What's Whats for much 
of the plot ideas, assorted mishmash, and weird ramblings.  There are so 
many of them, I just can't call them all to mind.  So I won't, but you're 
still so very great.  (With the incomparable Powers That Be who created 
it all on the top of the list.)
	For lack of anything better to write, I'll digress into the 
character summaries of the first day of Switch:
	Ranma:  had two fights, a sparring match, and a "weak" moment with 
Akane, transformed into a girl twice, trained with the fathers, grew a 
mustache, lost the mustache, had four hot baths, had seven okonomiyakis 
before lunch at the Ucchan's, talked about Ryoga with Nabiki, had a talk 
with Dr. Tofu, went to Dr. Tofu's clinic twice, and to the Ucchan's once.  
Presently on the way to Mt. Fuji with Cologne, Soun and Genma, to 
apprehend Happosai.  Did not, even once, see Shampoo.
	Akane:  had two fights, a sparring match, and a "weak" moment 
during a sunshower with Ranma, had an okonomiyaki before lunch at the 
Ucchan's, went with her fianc�e to have a recurring condition removed, 
tried to get her mind off of worries by watching a scary movie.  
Presently in the Tendo dojo with her sisters.  Did not, even once, see 
Ryoga in human form.
	Ryoga:  paid through the nose thrice, sleep-walked to Ukyo's 
bedroom, slept with both Ukyo and Akane, transformed to a pig once, 
escorted Nabiki to the bank, got kissed by Nabiki at the Ucchan's, 
accidentally peeped through the tops of two blouses, wandered into the 
Cat Cafe, and Kuno's mansion, got into a fight with Mr. Turtle, which 
ended in a draw, has not eaten anything, unless he liked inhaling his 
okonomiyaki.  Presently facing possible trajectory from Ukyo's bedroom's 
bed's Ukyo, thinking that the pillow underneath him was Akane's washboard 
stomach.  Did not, even once, see Akane (although he did sleep with her).
	Ukyo:  slept with P-chan, saw Akane and Ranma together in the 
Ucchan's, saw Nabiki and Ryoga together in the Ucchan's, brought Ryoga to 
her room while he was unconscious, slept about as long as Ryoga, did not 
have lunch, has been having a Kafka-esque day, needs a hug.  Presently 
worried about her present status as a nubile young woman, in bed with 
Ryoga, in her bedroom.  Did not, even once, see Tsubasa.  
	Nabiki:  was being suspiciously devious and generally weird, 
suggested Dr. Tofu during the mustache crisis, confronted Ryoga with 
knowledge about him and Akane, went to the bank with Ryoga, had a war of 
wills with Ukyo in the Ucchan's, kissed Ryoga in the Ucchan's, ordered 
take-out for the dojo, met with a totally nondescript individual in the 
park, talked to Ranma about Ryoga, and went to bed early.  Presently she 
is in the dojo with her sisters.  Did not, even once, see P-chan.
	Kasumi:  cooked two breakfasts, missed lunch, went to return a book 
she had borrowed from Dr. Tofu, borrowed another book, took an anonymous 
piece of paper from there, tried to have a talk with Akane, led Kuno in 
with P-chan.  Presently on the phone in the Tendo dojo.  Did not, even 
once, see Dr. Tofu sane.
	Tofu:  talked to Ranma after he got LEO'd after daybreak, fixed 
Ranma up with his facial hair, went wild when Kasumi came in, ended up 
with Betty in the half of Nerima where Nodoka's staying.  Presently 
unknown, much like what happened to him in the manga.  Did not quite see 
Kasumi.
	Betty:  went with the good doctor.  Presently unknown.  Cannot see.
	Soun:  trained with the Saotomes, read his newspaper, watched 
morning animes, chimed in on Ranma's protein problem, checked for Kuno's 
intelligence, saw Nabiki leave with Ryoga, blanked out for a while 
waiting for lunch, smacked the panda, took quick action-telephotography 
lessons, played go.  Presently with Ranma, Genma and Cologne on the trip 
to Fuji-yama to fetch the old lech.  Did not, even once, see Sasuke.
	Genma:  trained with his son (the cur) and best friend, transformed 
only once, went to the zoo as a panda, had some bamboo, saw Nodoka, 
figured out that she was coming to visit, slammed into Mousse, paid for 
the take-out, got bopped by Soun, played go.  Presently on the manhunt 
for the Master.  Did not, even once, see the hair growth on Ranma.
	Cologne:  woke up with a smile, saw Dr. Tofu pass by, knew that 
Shampoo had come from the dojo, found out where Happy was.  Presently 
bringing the raiding party to Mt. Fuji.  Did not, even once, see 
Happosai, even on the menu.
	Mousse:  woke up in the garbage, ripped some pages from Shampoo's 
recipe book, got sent for an errand, got run over by a panda, got caught 
out in the sunshower, was duck-napped by Sasuke, fended off an attack by 
a crazed ninja-chef, got into a one-sided fight with Mr. Turtle while 
being blind, became the object of Kodachi's obsessions, fell them both 
while in mid-flight upon Tsubasa.  Presently unconscious with Kodachi, 
Tsubasa and an anchor.  Did not, even once, see clearly.
	Happosai:  lugged an ice box all the way to Mt. Fuji, all the way 
causing havoc, and general disorder, bumped into Tsubasa in a bamboo 
outfit.  Presently waiting in the vicinity of the mountain.  Did not, 
even once, see Akane's panties.
	Shampoo:  tried to look for eggs, stole half a dozen from Nodoka, 
ended up feeding Tsubasa some lunch after getting caught in the 
sunshower, gave the kiss of death, assuming that Tsubasa was female, 
tried to escape the over-eager advances of the oven-girl, changed into 
feline form by being dumped into the river, got picked up by Akane, 
returned to the Cat Cafe, was brewing up some hate-potion for Tsubasa.  
Presently industriously pondering her next move.  Did not, even once, see 
Nabiki.
	Tsubasa:  tried to get to the Ucchan's with a minimum of damage, 
after discarding some recipes, got mauled by a panda in the zoo, got run 
over by a speeding pervert, followed a Chinese delivery girl in skimpy 
clothing who kissed him, chased after the aforementioned delivery girl, 
lost self-same, dressed up as a garbage can, a bamboo, a park bench, a 
signpost, a statue of a horse, a telephone pole, an oven, and a fire 
hydrant.  Presently unconscious under the influence of heavy metal.  Did 
not, even once, see the girl he was looking for at the time he was 
looking. 
	Nodoka:  bought groceries, needs to have her coif set, planned to 
go to the Tendo dojo, probably is coming by soon, lost a few eggs, saw a 
strange young martial artist with a skeleton on his back.  Presently 
asleep at the place she's at.  Hasn't seen her family in ten years, would 
you believe? 
	Kuno:  practiced light-reflection from off of teeth, poem creation, 
and light kendo, tried to woo Akane Tendo, blanked out at morning anime, 
and generally kept himself out of trouble.  Presently resting in the 
quarters fit for a warrior of his stature.  Did not, even once, see his 
pig-tailed goddess.
	Sasuke:  has trailed Ryoga prowling the Kuno estate, been knocked 
off by one of Kuno's air-pressure swipes, been told off by Kodachi, blown 
up by Mousse, swiped some Amazon recipes, stolen a stuffed duck from off 
the road, made a late lunch for his master, and got mauled by his 
mistress's pet.  Presently unknown.  Did not, even once, see Nabiki.
	Kodachi:  has mistaken a fight for survival for a convivial 
aggressiveness on the part of her pet, has inhaled a rather potent love 
potion-aphrodisiac-paralysis drug, and has been enamored by a blind 
Mousse, and was felled by a rather heavy anchor.  Presently under 
sedation of a big downer.  Did not, even once, see Ranma darling.  Ho - 
HO -  ho HO Ho - ho!
	Mr. Turtle:  has not eaten, has tried to eat three other main 
characters, is very tired.  Presently in his pond.  Did not, even once, 
win a match.
	Principal Kuno:  is in Hawaii, thank God.  Hasn't been seen since.
	The man:  woke up late, met up with Nabiki, confirmed the safety 
of... Presently asleep in a fourth floor apartment with a busted light.  
Did not see a mirror, and probably feels bad because of it.
	Having said all that, it makes me think that there's not much left 
to do.  Unfortunately, the odyssey has just begun.  What wonders could 
occur within the next day of mishaps?  Will there be a point to all the 
pairings-up and machinations?  When will the main story arrive?  Who the 
hell is the man?  And, will this still be the first fanfic to do what I'd 
planned to do with this for a while now by the time that I get there?
	The answers I do have do quite answer them, but I'm willing to part 
with them for a minimum fuss.  The crystal ball has told me that:
	- there will be some use of more herbs and spices (no surprise).
	- there will be a big geyser in the sky.
	- pairs will be made, and pairs will be broken.
	- the build up of a major change is coming.
	- more of what hasn't come out is coming out, but the color yellow 
is not in the future.
	- a new dojo occupant arrives.
	- a wedding is in the offing.
	And with that, the crystal ball went kaput.
	Please somehow send C&C.  
	And this time, I'm making sure to wait for it.
	(Detach here)
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