Subject: [FFML] [Ranma] YAAH, Chapter Four -- I'm Glad You're a Girl!
From: Mike Noakes
Date: 12/6/1998, 2:28 AM
To: Fanfic ML


	Hi!

	Well, now that's school's (almost) done, and time seems to be
freeing up a bit (probably an illusion), looks like I'll finally be able
to, after a 6 month hiatus, get back to some fic writing.  So, in an
effort to get the juices flowing again, I undusted this old thing and
finished off another chapter.
	It's a less-serious thing I started awhile ago, and hopefully
it'll get me back up to speed so I can return to Choices.  Anyway, I hope
you enjoy!  Previous chapters can be found on my webpage at:
	http://aix2.uottawa.ca/~s669330/anime.htm
	If, in reading this, it seems a bit disjointed, just remember that
I wrote the first half about a year ago, and the second half, tonight.
Which means, of course, that C&C, as always, is greatly appreciated!

***
	        	     YAAH! Ranma
      	          (Yet Another Alternate History)
					by
					Michael Noakes


Chapter Four:
I'm Glad You're a Girl!


     Akane sank to the dojo floor with an exhausted, relieved
sigh.  Small droplets of sweat fell from her forehead and spattered
on the smooth wooden floor.  A moment later Ranko kneeled down
next to her.
     "You okay," asked the redhead, smiling slightly.
     She nodded wordlessly, still trying to catch her breath.
     "That was a good workout," continued Ranko.  "Some of
the best sparring I've had in a while."
     After another deep breath, Akane felt up to answering.  "Ea.
. . easy for you to say!  All you did was dodge!  And - and I didn't
hit you once!"  There was a surprising edge of bitterness and
frustration to her voice, and she winced herself as she caught the
tone.
     Ranko eyes clouded slightly.  "I -- ah, I. . . I wasn't making
fun of you or anything, if that's what. . ."
     "No, no," interrupted Akane.  "I just meant -- why didn't
you attack me at all?"
     "Attack you?  I -- I couldn't do that!"
     Akane looked at her new-found friend curiously.  Ranko
had a healthy flush to her features, an aftereffect of the half-hour
long sparring session.  At least I made her break a sweat, thought
Akane, taking some small consolation from the accomplishment. 
But, she had to admit grudgingly, Ranko was obviously far superior
to her in Kempo; the match had felt like an infuriatingly impossible
game of tag, everyone of her strikes always falling just short of her
elusive partner, always just a little too slow.  That Akane didn't
mind.  It was Ranko's refusal to strike back, despite several
breathless demands that she do so.
     And now -- now the girl seemed strangely concerned, or
uncomfortable.  Why?  And why couldn't she strike back?  She
raised an inquisitive eyebrow as she climbed to her feet.
     "It's just," started Ranko, and then paused as if carefully
considering her words.  "It's just that I'm not used to sparring with
girls.  _Other_ girls," she quickly added.  "Usually it's just me and
Pop."
     "Oh."  And then a moment later, "But you fight back with
your dad, right?"
     Smirking slightly, she nodded.  "Yeah, you could say that.. . ."
     "Well then, why not me?"
     "I. . . I," she stammered, then swallowed nervously.  She
looked down at the floor.  "I guess I just didn't want to hurt you,
Akane.  It's just that you're the only friend I've got right now."  She
didn't sound particularly sad admitting it, and it seemed to Akane
that maybe, to the young girl standing opposite her, being friendless
and alone in a strange new town was an all too common
occurrence.  "I. . .  I guess I just didn't want to hurt the only friend
I've got."
     Smiling, sympathetic, Akane took her friend's hand in her
own.  "Ranko -- really, I don't think you have to worry about that. 
I'm a martial artist too, you know!  Maybe not as good as you," she
added ruefully, "but I can still take some hits!"  She made a 'strong-
arm' gesture, pumping her arm and tapping her bicep.  "See!  I'm
tough!"
     Ranko gave a tentative smile in response and visibly relaxed. 
"I. . . I see."
     Akane nodded.  "So next time we spar, you'll take the
offensive, right?"
     Again she hesitated, but after a moment, gave a small nod.
     The Tendo broke away from her friend.  "Good!  And
Ranko -- don't worry.  I don't make friends easily, either, but when
I do. . . it means something.  You don't have to worry about
scaring me off with a punch."  Seeing something akin to relief pass
through her friend, Akane switched to a more jovial tone.  "And, by
the way, thanks!  I had a really good time.  I normally have to
practice alone; father doesn't teach me as much as he used to, and
most of the students who come here are boys."  She gave an
indelicate snort.  "And they aren't any challenge, anyway!" 
     They stepped towards the exit, Ranko still seeming slightly
subdued, Akane raking her hand through her long hair and fixing
her ponytail as she spoke over her shoulder to her friend.  "And you
know what, Ranko," she continued.  "I'm glad your a girl!  I would
have hated to lose to a boy like that!"  Finally, another girl who was
interested in the martial arts that she could train with.
     She realized several moments later, as she stepped outside
into the yard between the dojo and the house, that she was alone. 
Glancing back into the training hall, she saw Ranko standing still,
an oddly guilty look on her face.
     "You coming?" Akane prodded.
     Ranko started and came out of her daze.  "Uh, yeah," she
said, and fell into step next to her.


     Kasumi smiled as the two girls, talking animatedly, walked
into the house.  It was nice to see Akane so excited about a new
friend; lately, her youngest sister had seemed unusually depressed
and moody.  And her new friend -- Ranko, was it? -- seemed like a
nice enough young girl.  Akane was a popular enough at school --
perhaps too much so, judging from some of the recent feedback --
but she had few close friends.
     Carefully folding the dish towel and placing it back on its
rack, she stepped out of the kitchen carrying two tall glasses of iced
tea.
     ". . . and that move you did, where you turned to the side
and. . ."  Akane cut off as she noticed her sister approaching.  "Hi
Kasumi!"
     "Did you and Ranko have a good time," she asked.
     Akane nodded, and so did her friend.  "Oh yes, Kasumi! 
Ranko's very good at kempo -- even better than me, I think!"
     Kasumi noticed that Ranko's only response was to smile
crookedly and shrug.  A surprisingly immodest responds, she
thought, considering how shy and bashful she had appeared upon
first getting here.  Kasumi would have expected an embarrassed
denial or demure blush from the girl, not this somewhat cocky
acceptance.  Then again, Akane was not terribly modest about her
skills, either.  Maybe that made them a good match for each other. 
Smiling, she offered the two drinks to her sister and guest. 
"Thirsty?  It looks like you both worked out hard!"
     They both nodded and accepted gratefully.  "Thanks," they
chorused.
     The iced-tea disappeared quickly.  When they were done,
Kasumi took an exaggerated sniff of the air.  "Oh my -- smells like
you worked out hard as well!"
     "Ka - su - mi," whined Akane, mortified.  "Please!"
     The elder sister smiled.  "Well it's true, Akane.  I think
maybe a round of baths are in order, don't you?"  She turned to her
visitor.  "Would you like to go first, Ranko?"
     For some reason, the young redhead looked nervous.  "I,
ah, well. . . I should probably be heading home, actually.  Pop's
probably wondering where I'm at."
     At the mention of leaving, a flash of disappointment crossed
Akane's face.  The brief display was lost on Ranko; it was not on
Kasumi.  She gave a small expression of concern.  "Oh my, Ranko,
I guess I should not have put your clothes in the wash then!"
     "What?"
     "Well, they were all wet and muddy when you came in
earlier," she explained.  "They looked like they needed washing,
and since I was about to start a load, I threw them in as well."
     "But --"
     "Oh my -- I hope you don't mind!"
     "I, well. . ." Ranko looked over hesitantly at Akane (who
shrugged), then back at Kasumi.  "I guess not, but --"
     "Good!  I just started the washing -- that's about thirty
minutes -- and then the drying -- which takes about an hour -- and. .
. oh, that takes us right up to supper time!"  Kasumi paused as if an
idea had suddenly struck her.  "Ranko, since I'm responsible for
keeping you here, would you like to join us for supper?"
     "I. . ."  Again Ranko turned to Akane for help; another
shrug from a smiling Akane.  Then it was her turn to shrug.  "Well.
. . okay," she replied.
     Kasumi gave a little clap of pleasure.  "Good!  Luckily, I
cooked a little extra, so there will be plenty for everyone.  But for
now," she added, placing a hand on her guest's shoulder, "you can
be the first one to clean up.  The bathroom is right over there," and
she pointed out the direction, "and there should already be a towel
waiting."
     For a moment Ranko seemed almost ready to object, but
then she wandered off toward the bathroom, a slightly bemused
look on her face.  Behind her, Kasumi smiled her usual happy smile. 
Akane giggled.


     Ranko looked miserably (and with just a touch of anger) at
Akane, while still clutching her towel around her damp body.
     "I can't wear that," she stated flatly.  "I won't."
     Akane looked at her friend with bewilderment, then down at
the simple dress held in her hand.  She didn't understand: what was
wrong with the clothes?  "Well . . . I guess I could grab something
else from my closet," she tried tentatively.
     A sigh from Ranko.  "Akane, I . . . listen, I'm just not into
wearing that kinda stuff, 'kay?  I'm more of a pants and shirt kinda
g - girl."  She swallowed audibly.  "Or gi.  I don't like dresses and
skirts and all that girly crap."
     "Oh."  Akane wondered if she should be offended at having
her clothes called 'crap', but decided nothing ill was meant by the
odd girl's words.  "Well, I guess I could pick out something
different for you."
     "Mind if I have a look, too?"
     The two teenaged girls darted out of the bathroom and up
the stairs, heading straight for Akane's room.  Within moments they
were both rooting through closet and drawers.
     "Wow, you sure've got a lot of clothes, Akane!"
     "Really?"  She put aside a pink sweater that Ranko had
refused -- pink, apparently, not being one of her favorite colors. 
"Not more than the average girl, I thought.  You own less?"
     The redhead gave a small bark of laughter.  "Yeah, you
could say that.  The red shirt and black pants your sister threw in
the wash is about half my entire wardrobe."
     Akane's eyes widened.  "Really?  Why?"
     "Not much call for fashion on the road, you know?  Pop and
I don't own much more than what we can carry on our back."
     "Wow.  That's -- that's cool!  You traveled a lot?"
     "Well, for most of the last ten years, I guess.  We stopped
here and there when we found good martial arts instructors, or
when I needed to catch up on my schooling.  And then we'd move
on.  Last place we checked out was China."
     "China?  Ranko, are you serious?  Ten years of martial arts
training trips?"
     Her new friend shrugged.  "Pop wants me to be the greatest
martial artist of my generation.  I don't mind, the Art is the one
thing I'm really good."
     Akane watched in stunned silence as the redhead tossed
aside a skirt, seeming to suppress a slight shudder.  A ten-year
martial arts training voyage.  China!  That sparked a memory:
hadn't the teacher said that that boy from this morning, Ranma, had
just returned from China as well?
     "I don't know, Akane.  I can't seem to find anything, I
guess I just feel weird borrowing somebody else's clothes."
     "I already told you, don't worry about it.  It's only for an
hour or two, anyway.  Here, how about this?"  She held up a pale
yellow shirt.  "You can wear it with this."  A pair of denim overalls,
a little duck embroidered on the front, was added to the ensemble.
     Ranko seemed to contemplate the outfit for a long moment
before finally releasing a resigned sigh.  "Yeah, I guess so."
     "Gee, try to sound a little less enthusiastic, why don't you?" 
A tinge of annoyance snuck into her voice for the first time.
     The girl blushed.  "Aw, gee, I'm sorry Akane.  I didn't
mean -- it looks fine, really -- here, I'll try it on."  Scooping up the
chosen clothes, she turned away.  She let the towel drop, then
pulled the clothes on in a flash.  She turned around, doing up a
clasp on the jumper.  "How's it look?"
     Akane smirked.  "Ah, Ranko, don't you think you're
forgetting something?"  Judging from the blank response, the
Tendo girl gathered not.  She held up a pair of underwear in one
hand.  "Panties?"
     This time Ranko blushed a very deep red.  "Ah. . . no. 
That's okay, really.  I'm fine in, ah, in the buff.  Really."
     Again Akane found herself wondering about this odd new
friend of hers.  "If you say so.  How does it fit?"
     Ranko shrugged.  "I dunno.  Fine, I guess."  She tugged at
her front.  "Well, it _is_ a little tight around the chest."  Then she
pointed out pinched the extra material hanging off her hips.  "And
it's a bit loose around here."
     Akane nodded.  "Yeah, I guess we aren't quite the same
size like I thought.  Your breasts are bigger than mine: I'm a 'B'
cup, and I guess you're about a 'C'?"
     "I, ah, that is. . ."
     "You don't know?"
     Ranko gave a vehement shake of the head.
     "You really don't get out shopping much, do you?"
     "Nope."
     "Well, you would probably fit better in Nabiki's -- that's my
other older sister, you haven't met her yet -- clothes.  Although if
you thought my stuff was too 'girly', just wait to you see what
_she_ has!"
     "No thanks."  The redhead grimaced.  "This is enough for
me!"
     Akane laughed.  "It looks good on you, too!  But I have to
go wash up now.  I'll only be a few minutes.  I don't know, just
look around my room, make yourself comfortable.  I'm sure you
will find something interesting."
     "Ok.  I gotta call Pops, anyway, to let him know where I'm
at."
     As Akane left her room, she paused to address her friend. 
"You know, Ranko, I'm happy you were able to stay a little longer. 
I -- well, I'm really having fun, sparring and talking and trying on
clothes and stuff.  I'm glad you're my friend."  The door softly
clicked behind her as she left.


     When Akane emerged from the bathroom soon after, freshly
scrubbed and brushing out her long hair, she heard her friend's
voice around the corner.
     "Hey, Old Man," she heard Ranko say.  "How's it going?"
     Ranko was talking on the phone, Akane realized, and she
sounded slightly impatient.  After a pause, her guest continued. 
"Huh?  Oh. . . it's me.  Me.  Ah, gee. . . it's, you know. . . Ranko. 
_Ranko_.  Your _daughter_.  Yeah.  Understand?  Sheesh. . ."
     She sure talks casually with her dad, Akane thought.  Then,
suddenly realizing that is was rude to listen in on a private
conversation, she turned away; but, hearing her name, she hesitated.
     "Yeah, I'm at a girl's house.  Akane.  She a new friend, she's
really nice." Akane unconsciously smiled, hearing this.  "They
invited me to stay for supper.  Yeah.  No!  You're not invited!" 
There was a burst of loud irate ranting from the phone, during
which Ranko pulled the receiver away from her ear.  Taking
advantage of a lull she quickly forced in a few words.  "Shut up,
will ya?  This is serious."  The yelling subsided and she continued. 
"I'm callin' to tell ya I'll be late.  Yeah."  Pause.  "Don't worry, I'll
be careful -- yeah, that's the _last_ thing I'd want to happen. 
Anyway, I'll probably be back in an hour or somethin' like that. 
You want me ta pick somethin' up on the way home?  Maybe some
bamboo?"  
     As Ranko laughed and continued talking on the phone with
her father, Akane silently slipped away and returned to her room. 
A few minutes later her friend rejoined her.
     "Say, Akane, I wanted to -- gyah!"  With a yelp, the
redhead, already in the room, squeezed her eyes shut and spun
around.
     Akane blinked.  "Um, Ranko. . . is everything okay?"
     "You're naked!"
     She glanced down at herself.  With bra and panties on, she
was hardly naked.  Her friend had some strange reservations,
almost as if she'd never spent anytime around other girls.  Which,
Akane realized, was quite possible.  Ten years on the road, all that
training, maybe she rarely had the opportunity to socialize with
people.  With as soothing of a voice as she could muster, she
reached out to her friend.  "Listen, Ranko, it's okay, really.  You
can turn around.  I don't mind if you see me like this.  Beside, I
need you help."
     "You do?"
     "Yeah, to help me choose what to wear."
     "Akane, you don't. . ."
     "Yes, I do."  She added a little force to her voice.
     Slowly, hesitantly, Ranko turned around.  She visibly gulped
when she saw Akane standing, tapping one foot impatiently.  The
dark-haired girl smiled at her friend.  "There, see?  It's okay to
look.  We're all girls here, right?"
     "Yeah.  Um, yeah."


     A little later, Kasumi called the two girls down to supper. 
There, Akane introduced her new friend to the other family
members: her father and Nabiki.
     "Dad, Nabiki, this is my new friend from school."
     "Hi, I'm Ranko, Ranko Saotome."
     "She just enrolled at Furinken.  Ranko and her father just
returned from China."
     "China?  How interesting," chimed in Kasumi, as she
finished laying out the food between them.  "What were you doing
over there?"
     "Getting lost, mostly," answered Ranko, and laughed. 
"Pop's terrible with directions.  But we did find some great training
spots.  And some not so great spots. . ."  Her countenance suddenly
darkened.
     "Training?"  Her father stopped eating for a moment. 
"What do you train in?"
          "Martial Arts, Mr. Tendo."
     "Really.  Martial arts, you say.  What style?"
     Ranko seemed to straighten with unconscious pride.  "The
Saotome School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts."
     "I seriously doubt that," said Mr. Tendo, and Akane could
see the sudden rigidity in his posture as well as hear the
disapproving tone to his voice.  "There are very, very few people
qualified to teach Anything-Goes, and even fewer schools of the
style.  Short of the . . . the _Master_ (and here, his voice dropped
to an almost whisper), _I_ am the only one that I know of who
does!"
     "Well I'm sorry, Mr. Tendo, but I _do_ study Anything-
Goes."  She dropped her chopsticks with a clatter.  "And you won't
find a better practitioner of the style than me, either!"
     "Listen here, girl, I'm telling you. . ."
     "Dad!"  Akane interrupted her father, face flushed and
clearly angry.  "She's a guest," she hissed.  And then, things
clicked.  Ranko _Saotome_ -- wasn't Ranma a Saotome, too? 
Who said he practiced Anything-Goes?  And just arrived in
Nerima?  After a trip to China?  And was really good at martial
arts?  Now that she reviewed the fight in her mind, a lot of their
fighting seemed familiar, and she had thought that she had
recognized some Anything-Goes in Ranko's technique during the
sparring session.  "And she's telling the truth -- she _is_ better than
me."
     Her father's jaw dropped open at that proclamation.  "A-
Akane?" 
     "Hey, you feeling okay, sis," asked Nabiki.
     "What?  I'm not the world's greatest martial artist, I can
admit that," said Akane.
     "C'mon, Akane, you were really good too, you know!"
     Akane patted her friend's hand.  "Thanks, Ranko.  And with
a bit more sparring, I'll be just as good as you, you just wait and
see!"
     Ranko smiled. 



     About an hour later, Akane and Ranko stood outside the
large wooden gates that marked the entrance to the Tendo
residence.  The redheaded girl was once again wearing her black
pants and red shirt.  It was starting to get dark out.
     "You sure you're okay to walk home alone?  You don't
want us to call a taxi?"
     Ranko waved the offer off.  "Nah, it's okay.  I need to walk
off some of your sister's food, anyway -- her cooking's awesome!"
     "You'll have to try mine sometime!"
     "I'd love too!"
     There was a moment's hesitation, then Akane darted
forward and gave her friend a quick hug.  "I'm so glad you came
over, Ranko.  This is the most fun I've had in a long time."
     Ranko nodded.  "You know, me too."
     "I'm sorry about my dad, though."
     "It's no problem.  He seemed really interested in meeting
my father.  I'll hafta let Pop know that I met somebody else who
teaches Anything-Goes!"
     "That reminds me.  Ranko. . . do you know Ranma?"
     The redhead suddenly froze, eyes wide and unblinking like a
deer caught in headlights.  "Ra-Ranma?"
     "Well, it's just that you both have the same last name, study
the same style, showed up on the same day at the same school,
wearing the same clothes, after both returning from a trip to China. 
I know Saotome's a pretty common last name, but it _does_ seem
like a big coincidence!
     "So do you know him?"
     "No."
     With another brief hug and exchange of goodbyes, Akane
returned to her home as her newfound girlfriend walked off into the
night.

     End Chapter Four.

***

	Well, I had a surprising number of requests that I continue the
series -- I hope you were disappointed.  I should wrap up the series in
another 5-6 short chapters (really rough estimate.)
	Later!
	-Mike Noakes
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 heaviness I laugh at -- precisely this is  * Homepage/Fanfiction:
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