Oh, C&C if you must, but that's not really the reason
for this one. In fact, this is more of C&C on another
story, recent, which has hit the list. Definitely a
response to it, at the least (since all I am doing is
telling it from a different view).
	I'm following the same tradition as Henry Fielding's
Shamela does, with regards to Samuel Richardson's Pamela.
Well, kinda. Not nearly as well, for one. It's the thought
that counts though, isn't it? At least so they say. :-)
There is no malice in my heart, no evil intent or dark
desire to destroy or mock... well, maybe a little, but
in a nice, goodhearted fashion. :) You should know me
by now to know that I don't mean to harm anyone. Why,
none of those convictions ever stuck! I mean, is it
_my_ fault that their witnesses always seem to end up
in a ditch somewhere or something? Certainly not! You
can't prove that at all! ^_-
Why am I doing this? Because there's always at least one
other way of looking at things, and the trick is to
balance them.


Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi, so we are
told. I, so I have been led to believe, have no rights
to these characters or situation (doubly, for the
situation, my dears), and am not doing this for profit
or any such silly materialisic reason.



			The Other Side



    Hungry. 

    The thought disturbed Ranma in its suddenness and intensity.
Ranma's stomach grumbled in complaint. The Nekohanten was nearby
and he could always get food there. Life had taught Ranma to eat
when you could, because you never know when you'll have the chance
to do so again.
    Of course that meant suffering through Shampoo, but... it
didn't matter. Her and her smiling three years of murder schtick,
it was nothing, it did not matter, it did not... signify.
    
    "You come to Nekohanten to see Shampoo?" she greeted me,
cheerily, though I could feel the enmity coming off her in waves.

    I know what you're thinking, Shampoo. Do you really think you
can hide it from me? Do you really underestimate me that much, and
by extension, underestimate yourself since I am so easily the
better martial artist? Do you really have such a low self-worth
that you believe this facade works? I can see it in your eyes, on
your face, in your every move and every breath and read it in your
ki. I wonder if you know how obvious it is to me? how obvious
everything is? I could end it all, fix all this mess that all of us
are in, if I wanted to, but I just don't care enough.

    "Leave me alone, Shampoo. I only come here to eat, okay?" put
on the act. Sound indignant, sound annoyed. Blush. Give her the
opportunity to change, to recant, to choose-- the very thing they
want to me to do, but not. They think they want me to choose, but
they don't. They want to choose _for_ me, want to direct my
actions, want it to be a specific choice. 

    So no, I don't care, not really. Why should I? No one else
does. If so, they'd take responsibility for their own actions. My
fault? Like hell it is. I gave you the opportunity, each and every
one of you, you all had your chance, your choice. I am not
responsible for what you did with those choices, you made them, you
live with them. I allowed you to make them, put you in the position
where you could make them, nothing more.

    "You no come here to see Shampoo?" she asks, bubbling forth in
what was obviously an attempt to be cute, but ends up being corrupt
and fetid. The bubbling of swamp gas as it bursts up through the
water. "You only come here to eat," she pauses, failing miserably
at making the moment dramatic, "in that case," she shoves a long
roll of paper in my face. "Please pay up for all times when Ranma
eat for free here like real customer."

    I scan the figures, and find them horribly inflated-- my eyes
bug out, in fact. Oh Shampoo, you really don't think much of me, do
you? I keep track of it myself, and it is nowhere near this amount,
and that's not considering backpay or interest. After all, I never
did get paid for the time I worked here, did I? Ho-ho! I wonder if
I should mention that? That would blow everything up though, let
her and everyone else know a bit more than I want them to.
    It constantly amazes me just how dumb they take me for. Here I
am, in the same grade as Akane, and yet I've spend my life on the
road, and not in school. Here I am, figuring out techniques after
seeing them a few times, and often adapting them or making up new
ones to fit the situation on the spot. There are none so blind as
those who will not see, I suppose.
    She left me a way out though, obviously. Play into her little
trap, have her little fun thinking she's got me where I want her.
Let her make her own choice. I am not my brother's keeper, even if
I actually had a brother, after all, nor am I Shampoo's for that
matter. 

    "You-- you've been keeping track of how much I had eaten at
this place?"

    "Of course, silly Ranma," she shrugs, a calculated gesture
wasted. "Why think Shampoo ask Ranma to fill in special postponed
bill with signature every time before serving food?" Why indeed,
silly girl. Why hasn't it ever occurred to you that I might
actually read the figures, or actually keep my copy instead of
throwing them away? "So, you ready to pay up now?"

    I stand up, or start to at least. This is tiresome, moreso than
it is amusing, and I really do hate to be bored. Still, I am
hungry, and I should give her another chance for redemption, though
she won't take it. "Uhm, about what I said earlier? It really was a
joke. _Of course I come here to see you,_ you silly girl!" It's
true, in it's own way, I suppose. I come to give her a choice.
Strange, that this false smile on my face is possibly the most
honest thing, because of its falseness. Aha. Worthy of something to
meditate on, later, that thought.

    "Aiyah! Shampoo so happy!" she exclaimed, and in a way that was
true also. Happy to feed her spite, happy to prove to herself her
superiority, happy to get her own way. 

    The next part is what I actually dislike, and she knows it. No
pretense on my part, would you like someone feeling you up? I don't
care how beautiful she thinks she is, or how beautiful she actually
is (there is a difference), I still don't like it.
    Would you? Someone else's hands wandering around you, feeling
you, groping you, pinching you, and all without your permission?
Perhaps you can understand then, that I, who has had less contact
with others than most people, would feel. There is no indifference
her, no act hiding the apathy. Everything else so far was a sin
against herself, not my concern, but this, this is a sin against
me. 
    I could get Mousse over here and that would stop it. More than
stop it, a little punishment of its own, with the inevitable fight
and property damage, which just might be a little more than
necessary. Later will do though. Time enough afterwards.
    I can feel her start to get excited in her explorations, her
shirt is thin, as is mine, and she isn't wearing a bra, either. It
is to laugh, or to cry, but laughing is safer. I won't do that
either, mind you, at least not yet, not now. I can preserve the
moment though, the delicious irony of it all: this girl who hates
me becoming sexually aroused as she gropes me.
    Plenty of witnesses are here to see her doing this and see my
obvious discomfort, should I ever decide I want to press charges.
Sexual harassment, don't you know. Not that I would ever do
something like that, mind you, but one should keep one's options
open, yes?

    It's funny what hate can do to people, isn't it? I never really
understood that concept myself, but I can see it's effects on
others, predict it, generate it, use it, even though I do not feel
it. 
    Shampoo tells me that she's happy because the object of her
hate is in her power, that she is in control because of fear. Isn't
reading people's auras so useful? What was it again that I did to
you that makes you hate me so, Shampoo? Oh yes, I was better than
you. I showed you how foolish you were, and you couldn't take that
could you? Couldn't take that someone else could go beyond your
limitations.
    Foolish, right from our first meeting. You didn't have to
accept the challenge, but your perception of honour made you. Made,
what a silly word. I make a drawing, I make a story, I make a fist,
but I do not make other people do things. She had the option of not
accepting, it is not my fault that she underestimated me. Still, I
didn't expect her to want tp fight right away. I would have waited
until she was well rested, that would only be polite. Maybe she was
thinking I was weaker, having just eaten after fasting for who
knows how long? Maybe she thought I was weary from hard travelling,
and she wanted to capitalise on those weaknesses. Regardless, not
my choice, not my decision, not my problem.
    
    "Ack!" she drew blood. "Shampoo, your nails are _cutting_ into
me!" 

    Mousse isn't enough. Ryouga instead, or as well. He's
guaranteed to do more damage. I suppose they might not fight me,
that they might actually try to talk any supposed misunderstanding
or wrongdoing out instead, but I severely doubt that. If even one
person did that, took responsibility for him or herself, that would
be enough, I could do it. I could take show them all the truth,
show them where they went wrong and show them what they could do.
That won't happen though, I know it won't, know it deep down in my
bones, in my marrow. One hopes though, one recognises the
possibility that it might happen, that something new might occur
that jars one of them out of their rut and into a different
pattern.

    "Shampoo so sorry, but Airen taste so sweet that Shampoo almost
want to love Ranma to death." 

    Love the body but hate the mind, Shampoo? You don't even know
me, you never tried to get to know me, but just expected I would
fall in line with your desires. No different from anyone else. How
boring. There are no ideas here, my dear.

    "Yeah, whatever. Just cook, will ya? I'm starving," and I
really am famished now.

    I wonder when you started to hate me, Shampoo. I really am
curious about that. After that reversal jewel, obviously. I had to
find out why, then. Why the sudden change of heart. It didn't make
sense, shouldn't have happened, and I needed to know. I'll admit
that part of the reason I did what I did then was because it felt
good having good looking women after me, wanting to be my wife.
Hell, I think most men would like that, though. Real boost to their
manliness and ego there, and when you're a cold shower away from
castration, you become a little more sensitive to those kinds of
things. Especially if you're Japanese, raised in a patriarchal
society, especially if you've been raised to be manly by Genma.
Surely that can be forgiven, no? 
    Maybe that was it, the straw that broke the camel's back. No
one ever asked me why though, and I wasn't about to tell unless
they asked. Just assumed, like all of you always do. Never occurred
that your assumption might be wrong, did you?

    "Shampoo go prepare good good stuff for Ranma now-- hope Ranma
enjoy outcome."

    A thinly veiled reference to the day you shall try to beat me,
Shampoo? I wonder if you know that I'm aware of you praciticing,
even if you're unaware that I know. Your techniques, your Amazon
tricks, your proud heritage, it will avail you not, because I know
what you know, hear what you hear. Feh, I figure them out before
you do. So simple, really. Have some interesting modifications,
too, which you might appreciate if you ever try to use them against
me. Defenses against them, too. You'll have to start first, of
course. I won't make you use them, won't start the fight. That's
not me. I don't like to do that, that much. Sure, I'll start
fights, but how much more do you see me getting attacked than
attacking? Even Cologne doesn't know that I'm around, watching.
    Maybe, just maybe, if you had heard about Ryu Kumon and the
Yamasenken, you might get an inkling. The techniques I learned from
Genma, the Umisenken, allow me to erase all sense of my presence,
but you wouldn't know that, would you? I wonder if it would really
matter, anyway-- if you're so consumed by hate and so focused on
what you're doing when you practice that you would notice me even
if I didn't know the Umisenken, Shampoo. I picked up Kumon's
Yamasenken as well, but no one would ever know that from observing
me, since I never use them. Just a little surprise, in case.
    Regardless, it doesn't matter. You make your own destiny, not
I. I just offer choices, and it is none of my business whether or
not you take them.



			Khattam Shud


References in the story: 

V4, where a Shampoo who looked remarkably untired considering she
just fought in a tournament, accepted a challenge from a smaller
girl who had obviously not eaten in a long time and travelled on
foot a long distance, and fought her immediately instead of waiting
for her to digest the food at the very least, and got quite put out
when Shampoo lost. Yeah, Ranma's pure evil.

V22, where Ranma suddenly had to deal with a Shampoo who acted the
exact opposite towards him as she usually does, and so he tries to
figure out why. Bastard.

Smiling 3 years of murder: V34
    Where the woman pretends to be a dutiful wife/girlfriend while
playing petty and/or painful tricks on the man, often
'accidentally.'

V28 Genma shows Ranma the moves to the Umisenken once, and Ranma
uses them to defeat Ryu Kumon. It stands to reason then that he
would also be able to use the Yamasenken set of moves/style, having
had it used against him more than once, and now knowing what they
were based upon.



See? Take a look at it one way, and Ranma's the worst kind of scum.
Take a look at it another way, and he's, well, not a saint, but
more sinned against than sinned, I would say.

Now, the dialogue and the events in this story are not mine, 
oh nonononono, most definitely not. The interpretation of
said events, the narration though, that, you may blame me for.

So, if you're still wondering what story I'm responding to, and
which author wrote it, one final hint: the tag-lines, bibi, look
at the tag-lines. Still not sure? Email me.

Matthew "Maybeso" Lewis is:
InDefinitelyso on IRC
Sojiro_Seta on Kawaiimuck
	maybeso@ican.net
prone to exaggeration, 150% of the time
____________________________________________________________

	'No ideas here,' murmured Vashti, and hid the
Caucasus behind a metal blind.
	In the evening she looked again. They were crossing
a golden sea, in which lay many small islands and one
peninsula.
	She repeated, 'No ideas here,' and hid Greece
behind a metal blind.

		-segment from 'The Machine Stops,'
		 a short story by E.M. Forster
____________________________________________________________