5
Contemplating Chicken
As it turned out, the four of them _did_ get jobs.
It was a small barbeque joint that specialized in ribs, which Ukyou
knew basically how to cook, and it was run by a good natured black man from
America who called himself Jerry. The ribs were fairly good, especially
when Jerry himself cooked them, but it was Jerry himself that shaped the
nature of the place; he was a big, muscular, boisterous man of maybe thirty
or so with a thick battering ram of a beard and a shaven head. It seemed
like there was always something going on there - a party, thrown by Jerry
himself, some student meeting or another, some new sound system that Jerry
had installed. The joint was never empty, as it had become known as a
'piece of America' for the local students, a lot of whom felt that Japan
was somehow behind America culturally. Jerry, an intelligent businessman,
had quickly realized this and designed his resturaunt specifically to look
and sound as American as possible, using all of the latest trends coming
from the States that he could get his hands on.
There were massive speakers and a subwoofer in the back of the joint,
with smaller ones for surround sound hidden in the rest of the place, and
he would alternate the music, depending on his mood, from hip-hop to
alternative to metal. He played anything that was popular in America.
Jerry himself, cultivating the American image, usually dressed in thick
work boots with the tongues sticking out, baggy jeans sagged slightly, and
every week, it seemed, some brand-new trendy shirt. Today it was a
glistening black mesh shirt with loose short sleeves and 'FUBU' embroidered
in oversized letters across the front. He also sometimes wore a pair of
sleek black Oakleys for good effect.
Jerry's assistants and waiters were also encouraged to dress in an
American style, but most of them did so more conservatively than Jerry
himself did. One Chinese boy named Chan, an apprentice cook who could whip
up a heavenly chicken, flagrantly dressed, not in an American style, but in
a large variety of styles - gothic was one of his favorites. He also had a
very strange looking pair of boots that went almost up to mid-thigh which
Jerry had politely requested that he refrain from wearing. Rayne Shikama,
a handsome, dark-skinned waiter who talked more smoothly than most
politicians, was Japanese, but he had recently come from America, so he had
a rough feel as to what the place should look and 'feel' like; he was the
type who people either found charming or pretentious.
When the four of them arrived that Monday, Jerry and Rayne were already
there, and the sounds of crackling ribs and booming rap music floated out
of the joint. Ranma didn't understand the lyrics, of course, since they
were in English, but he kind of liked the song; it had a nice, strong beat
and a sweet-sounding background riff. There were only five or six
customers in the joint this early, eating what was described as a 'light
breakfast chicken,' and listening to the deep-voiced Jerry and Rayne laugh
about an American movie that was a few years old. Ranma thought he might
have seen the subtitled version, but he couldn't remember the title off-hand.
Catching Ukyou's eye, Jerry grinned at them. "'sup, fellas? Y'all
think ya can creep on back to the kitchen? These folks here got some o'the
light chicken cooking."
"So anyway," a short Japanese businessman, slightly balding, inserted.
"You were saying...?"
"Oh yea," Jerry resumed talking with a grin, "so anyway, my man Seagal
creeps into this joint on the ship, right? And these terrorists be
_everywhere_, you know. So it be all dark an' shit, and yo, dere's dis
bigass cake, and it be just kinda sittin' there in the middle of the floor,
so da man gives it a shove out o'da way. And out comes dis _fine-ass_
blond chick, in dis navy shirt she pulls open and starts swingin' that mad
tight rack all 'round, kid!" He laughed along with the businessman, Rayne
grinning broadly at them.
"Hell yeah, I remember that scene perfectly," Rayne drawled, his
handsome face and smooth, deep voice drawing more than a few glances from
the two female customers in the resturaunt. "That was crazy, man!"
Ranma remembered that scene, too, and suddenly, the title of the movie
sprang to mind. _Under Siege_, starring Steven Seagal. He hadn't liked it
much, and figured it was probably better if you understood English. And
there was-
"Ranma!" Ukyou hissed into his ear. "C'mon, you don't want to
embarrass us on our first day by gawking at the boss, do you?"
He shook his head. "Uh, no, course not, Ucchan."
Following his three friends back into the kitchen, he noted the odd
makeup of the place. There was a fairly long hallway leading from the
dining room back to the kitchen, made of nicely polished wood - it looked
like mahogany - and with walls covered with pictures and portraits of
Jerry's family, famous American sports stars, and a few posters here and
there. The corridor wasn't particularly well-lit, though, and oddly
comforting shadows were cast across most of it. About halfway down the
hallway, which was maybe twenty-five feet from end to end, Ukyou stopped
them abruptly.
"I just thought of something," she proclaimed, looking at Ranma and
Tarou, who were both fully aware that she probably had not just thought of
something, in a fashion that neither of them particularly cared for.
Tarou muttered something under his breath, then ungraciously asked what
it was.
Ukyou grinned. "You two should be working as girls."
"How did I _know_ that was coming?" Tarou mumbled sourly.
"Maybe you're psychic," Ryouga offered helpfully.
Ranma cackled. "No, I think it's his innate desire to be a woman." He
pinched Tarou's cheek, who growled warningly. Ranma ignored it. "Isn't
that right, Pink-hair?"
Tarou swept Ranma's legs out from under him, sending him into a heap on
the floor. "You think she's just talking about me, fem-boy?" He fumed,
stepping on him.
"I think it's a good idea," Ukyou maintained, prying Tarou's leg off
Ranma with her ever-present quarterstaff. "I mean, let's face it - you
guys are going to be working as waiters. And who gets better tips, badly
dressed ponytailed guys who look like they need to stop living in the dojo,
or cute girls in short skirts? Especially when one of them has pink hair!"
Silence reigned for a moment as what she said sunk in. Then:
"_SKIRTS_??" The two of them raged simultaneously, each launching on a
separate tirade about how manly he was, and how he refused to conpromise
his dignity by putting on a skirt, which eventually somehow managed to
degenerate into a shouting match about which of them was a better fighter.
Ryouga and Ukyou were both figuring out how to best get them to stop
fighting and work together for the rest of the day without making
everyone's life miserable when a voice from the kitchen solved the problem
for them.
"Hey, fools in the hall! You going to come get this light chicken or
what, huh?"
Ranma and Tarou abruptly stopped arguing. "Uh, yeah!" Ranma called
out. "Just, um, give us a second! We're...uh..."
"We're, er, contemplating," Ryouga filled in unconvincingly. "Yeah,
contemplating chicken, you got it! We'll be back in a second once we
finish our, um, contemplations."
Ukyou cocked an eyebrow at him. "Contemplating _chicken_?" Ryouga
looked embarrased and shrugged. "Okay, anyway," she continued, "seriously,
you two need to work as girls. If you don't, I guarantee you won't get
paid as much in the way of tips, and that's how waiters...or, waitresses,
rather, make most of their money."
"You're not wearing a skirt, Ukyou," Ryouga pointed out, he and Ranma
gazing at her normal red Chinese outfit. Tarou scowled alarmingly and
looked at her like she was Brutus.
Tarou cracked his knuckles. "You're lucky you're not in male form,
Ukyou."
Ukyou grinned a bit nervously. "I'd agree with that. Actually, I plan
to wear a skirt, too, even though I'll just be cooking, for the most part.
See, check this out. Last night I took the liberty of purchasing the three
of us miniskirts, for the express purpose of making money! Pretty smart,
huh?" She glanced flatly at the three boys. "Don't answer that. Anyway,
we just need to change real quick and then we're good to go."
"We're making money by wearing miniskirts?" Ranma griped unhappily.
"I feel like a prostitute. No, worse than a prostitute; I feel like a
_male_ prostitute!"
"It's not that bad," Ryouga put in unhelpfully. "I mean, it's not
really like prostitution. Think of it more like strip-dancing or
pornography."
"You purchased three short skirts?" Tarou demanded, scowling. He
glanced furtively at the small bag that Ukyou had produced as if the devil
himself was about to leap out of it. "With what money? We're broke,
remember?"
"And why didn't you tell us about this _before_ we got here, Ucchan?"
Ranma grumbled. "I mean, now that we're here, we got the chicken to
deliver to the tables and everything."
"Because if I'd have told you, neither of you two oh-so-manly men would
have come to work," she responded cheerfully, ignoring Tarou's question.
"And Ryouga here can bring the chicken to the tables, can't you, Ryouga?"
Ryouga shrugged, looking slightly exasperated. "Yeah, sure. Why not."
He muttered something underneath his breath as he strode down towards the
kitchen, then grinned evilly to himself as he glanced back at the two
disconsolate boys. "Say," he said, leering, "I'll have something to look
forward to at work, won't I?" He snickered as he dashed off into the
kitchen before Tarou and Ranma quite caught on to his statement.
Ukyou smiled at the indignantly glowering pair, staring daggers after
Ryouga's gleefully retreating form. "Now let's change."
"Where?" Ranma inquired, folding his arms across his chest. "In the
middle of the hallway?"
She pushed open the door to the women's bathroom, almost completely
hidden in the shadows. "No, here," she stated briskly, walking in and
making sure no one else was in there, then pulling Ranma and Tarou in after
her, both of them still grumbling complaints.
The bathroom, in contrast to the darkened hallway, was fairly large and
well-lit, with bright florescent tubing running down the ceiling. The
floor was smooth white tile, and the four stalls made of a cheap wood
painted with an even cheaper green paint. Ukyou pointed to the sinks, and
the two young men reluctantly complied, both of them knowing that the idea
was a good one, but neither of them willing to admit it before the other did.
After they underwent a quick sex-change, Ukyou rustled around in the
bag and pulled out matching pink and red skirts, both of them tight,
glossy, and _very_ short. She tossed the red one to Ranma and the pink to
Tarou, then matching heels.
"It looks kind of small," Tarou observed dryly, absently brushing her
exotic pink hair out of her eyes. "And kind of _pink_." She stumped
irritatedly into one of the stalls.
Ukyou nodded and removed a brownish-red skirt from the bag that looked
different from the others; it had a Chinese cut and was less crudely sexy
than the other two. "That's kind of the point."
"That ain't fair," Ranma said accusingly. "Your dress isn't as short
as ours."
Ukyou grinned. "I thought of the idea, I make the rules." She poked
Ranma in the side and shoved him into a stall adjacent to Tarou's, then
slipped in the next stall herself.
"I think we shoulda made Ryouga dress in this getup, too," Ranma's
voice floated out from over the green-painted wood.
"Yeah," Tarou muttered darkly, "in his wolf body." That drew a laugh
from Ukyou and even a snicker from the grumpy Ranma.
After a few minutes of muffled grunts and grumbling from the two girls,
Ukyou stepped out of her stall, resplendent in the Chinese dress. After
another few minutes of muffled grunts and grumbling from the two girls,
Ukyou sighed resignedly and knocked on Ranma's stall. "Uh, you two girls
going to be done any time soon?"
"I'm having a little trouble with the socks," Ranma explained, annoyed.
"They seem like they're about to tear; I think they're too small by half."
Ukyou rolled her eyes. "They're called pantyhose," she responded
patiently. "And they're supposed to be really small. I _know_ you've seen
girls wearing them, Ranma."
"I don't think I like pantyhose," Pantyhose Tarou interjected grumpily.
"They feel really weird, and they're the same color as my skin, anyway.
Why do I have to wear these?"
Ukyou smirked. "Sex-appeal, Tarou, sex-appeal."
After another few minutes of irate sounds from the stalls and Ukyou
tapping her foot impatiently, Ranma finally stepped gingerly out of her
stall. She mumbled something sourly and threw the pair of torn red
pantyhose back to Ukyou, and Ukyou glanced at her tanned, well-muscled
legs, and then at the dark red miniskirt that complemented her fiery hair
perfectly. Ranma shuffled uncomfortably in her high-heeled sandals over to
the body-length mirror, gawking slightly at herself. She tried to shift
her large breasts slightly so not as much cleavage would be visible,
drawing an amused snicker from behind her.
"Now I know why I call you fem-boy, fem-boy," Tarou drawled, putting
her slender arm around Ranma's shoulders and leaning on her. Following
Ranma's example, she poked Ranma's breasts experimentally, smirking evilly.
Ranma began to glower at Tarou, but her glower quickly changed to a
raucous guffaw. "Fem-boy, huh, Pink-hair? This from the _guy_ who's
dressed in a pink miniskirt!" She batted her eyes femininely at the other
girl. "Ooh, I _love_ how it goes so _perfectly_ with your hair, Miss
Pantyhose Tarou!" She rubbed her hand up Tarou's leg and pulled on the
hose slightly. "And this pantyhose goes so _wonderfully_ with your name!"
Tarou fumed and planted a fist in Ranma's face, sending the unfortunate
redhead crashing to the floor. "And my, what a graceful landing that was,
fem-boy," she growled in a decidedly un-feminine voice.
Ukyou sighed, running a hand through her long brown hair. "Alright, if
you two are done proving how masculine you aren't, let's go get to work, hm?"
Ryouga had proven to be quite a hit among both the men and women in the
usual breakfast crowd, with his rugged appearance, fanged grin, and a full
arsenal of otherworldly travel stories. From most people, tales such as
Ryouga related, like witnessing a tiger who changed into a beautiful woman
just before being speared by a mysterious, shadow-cloaked hunter, or
battling ancient martial arts masters who could fire bolts of energy from
their hands and create whirlwinds with willpower alone, would have been
dismissed as fabrications of someone who'd been on the road for a little
too long. But something - perhaps it was the earnestness with which he
told the stories, or his stern, honest face - made the tales he offhandedly
related seem realistic and probable. Or maybe it was just the outlandish
way he dressed - in a travel-stained yellowish jerkin, sleeveless, tucked
into thick, tough pants tied with rough black cord at the waist and calves,
and a yellow black-checkered bandanna. Just stick a sword on his back, one
customer observed with a good-natured laugh, and he'd look like an
adventurer who'd just stepped out of a George Martin novel.
Ranma and Tarou were also a big hit, but only from the male half of the
crowd (Jerry, who was used to strange folks working for him and coming
through his resturaunt, graciously didn't bring up the fact that two of the
young men he had hired seemed to have suddenly become young women). In
spite of their innocent intentions, they earned several jealous,
mean-spirited glares and comments, although Tarou, at least, had gotten a
few friendly comments from female customers about how beautiful she was,
and how had she dyed her hair such a gorgeous pink? She tried to brush
questions like these off, although she was surprisingly polite to women who
made comments like that, all considered. On the other hand, Ranma, who
looked something like a redheaded Erika Eleniak dressed like a sleazy
hooker (Jerry had made that remark while joking about a scene from _Under
Siege_ with a breakfaster; it had received a laugh from the customer, in
spite of the fact that Ranma bore very little resemblance to the Caucasian
actress), had received the majority of disgusted comments from the women in
the joint, and she consequently stalked around all morning in an
ill-temper. The males, though, loved Ranma; more than one had already made
offers to sleep with her, and one tactless fellow had asked her, "Um, like,
is there any chance you could, you know, strip for me?"
In the latter case, Ryouga and Ukyou had to forcibly restrain her from
killing the poor fool with her bare hands. Tarou had just lounged nearby
and looked ready to bust a gut laughing.
Breaktime for Ryouga and Ranma was at ten thirty, and Ukyou and Tarou's
was at eleven. By the time Ryouga and Ranma's break rolled around, Ranma
was in what she might have called honestly the second worst mood of her
life (the first being shortly after Jusenkyo), while Ryouga was fairly
cheerful, just having finished relating a story to an admiring young woman
with long black hair who called herself Sayuri.
Settling down at a table by themselves in a corner, Ranma growled and
plopped down into her seat, thankfully removing her high-heeled sandals
with a sour grunt.
"So...how's it going, Ranma?" Ryouga ventured, settling down with a
small platter of ribs and a Pepsi.
"Guess," Ranma responded dourly, rubbing her sore feet. She snatched
Ryouga's Pepsi and took a long drink.
"Has being a girl helped bring in the tips?"
Ranma nodded. "Actually, it has. That's one thing good out of this
rotten morning. I swear, some of those men and the looks they gave me..."
She shuddered. "They gave really good tips, though." She glared at
Ryouga, like something was his fault. "Ryouga, do you have the slightest
_clue_ about how uncomfortable these high heels are? I swear, my feet feel
like they're about to fall off!"
"I do," someone offered, pulling up a chair and sitting down. It was
Chan, the cook, dressed in a big black cape and otherwise normal clothing.
"I'm secretly a cross-dresser, Ranma. I confess. I wear high heels on the
weekends and prostitute myself to men on the street." He began to laugh,
apparently thinking he was a pretty funny guy, before he noticed Ranma
gnashing her teeth and glaring alarmingly at him. His mirth dried up very
quickly.
"She's not in a real good mood this morning," Ryouga offered as he
swallowed a large piece of meat, attempting to prevent a fight. His
efforts were in vain.
"Oh, you do, do you?" Ranma snarled at the unfortunate cook. "Maybe
you think this is _fun_, huh, Mr. Badass Cook-With-a-Cape? Maybe you think
I'm _enjoying_ parading around this miserable place dressed in shoes that
would have murdered Hulk Hogan by now?" Chan attempted to splutter an
apology, but Ranma railroaded right over him. Several nearby customers
were beginning to stare by now, most of them grinning. "Or maybe it's the
damn _skirt_ you think I enjoy, huh?" She fumed. "Do you have the
slightest idea of how much it _sucks_ swinging around this place wearing a
miniskirt that your ass just about sticks out of?" A couple snickers from
spectators, one or two sympathetic nods from female customers. "Maybe it's
the goddamned _men leering at my ass_ that you think I enjoy so much, you
little piece of-"
Ryouga clapped a hand over Ranma's mouth. "Like I said," he began,
"she's in a bad mood this morning." Ranma scowled and bashed him on the
side of the head; Chan seemed surprised that his head didn't fly off.
"Look, uh, Ranma," Chan said quickly, seizing the opening, "I was just
kidding, okay? You know, no hard feelings and all that?"
"Yeah," Ranma grumped, looking the other way and attempting to cover
more of her all-too-shapely legs with the miniskirt and failing miserably.
"Because Ranma," Chan stated in a perfectly serious voice, moving
closer to her and putting his arm around her shoulders, "you know I love
you, darling, and I-"
Ranma snorted and sent him flying into a nearby wall, shocking four or
five female customers, with Rayne and a few of the customers applauding in
the background, and Jerry laughing and helping Chan up.
Two days had passed since their fight.
Ryoushi, utterly humiliated after her unfortunate sex change, had
slipped out of the school and quickly jogged off the premises. After two
days, she was still dressed in the same white shirt and grey pants she wore
to school, had not washed her hair or eaten anything, and hadn't found the
direction to brush her teeth. In other words, she was a mess and smelled
really bad. (To her credit, though, she at least managed to find a
bathroom whenever nature called.) To say the least, some people take an
unexpected sex change better than others, and Ryoushi was one of the
others: she was still just kind of stumbling around in a daze.
"Hey, watch it, sister," a woman's voice said sharply from beside her.
It was a strange voice, Ryoushi thought, her mind a sort of cloudy
blankness. Almost like someone trying to sound mean but with too sweet of
a voice. "Uh, hey, red-hair, you okay?" The woman put her arm out to stop
Ryoushi's dead trudge and waved a hand in front of her face. "Anybody
home...?"
Ryoushi didn't come out of the trance, so she pinched her. Hard.
"Yaah!" Ryoushi gasped, stumbling forward, pushing the woman's arm out
of the way. Her eyes, now a brilliant emerald color, cleared suddenly, and
she stared around, partially in shock. "W-where am I?" She managed to
stutter.
The woman chuckled, sounded somewhat concerned. "You're in the alley
behind Jerry's Rib Shack. You alright? Catch a cold, wandering around
looking dead like that in this rain," she added, leaning back against the
sturdy brick wall; the overhang guarded her from the pouring rain, colder
than was usual for a late spring shower.
"Y-yeah," Ryoushi agreed halfheartedly, glancing up at the sky and
flinching slightly. She hadn't even realized that it had been raining.
The woman gestured to her. "Here, come under the overhang. You'll
feel better once the rain stops beating on you, I promise." Ryoushi nodded
and obliged. "Want a smoke?" The woman asked her, pulling out a pack of
cheap cigarettes, sticking one in her mouth and lighting it. "It'll warm
you up."
"Sure." Ryoushi didn't smoke much, but the events of late were so
otherworldly anyway, she figured getting hooked on tobacco again was the
least of her worries. She puffed absently on the cancer stick, looked at
the woman standing beside her. She was dressed in a short, somewhat crude
pink miniskirt, hose, and high heels. Her hair was a beautiful shade of
pink. "So, um, what's your name?"
"Tarou," she responded shortly. "Just Tarou. Yours?"
Ryoushi frowned slightly. Tarou. Hadn't she heard that name somewhere
before...? "Eh? Oh, I'm Ry...Ryoushi. Ryoushi Hasaki."
"Hm, no kidding," the woman in the skirt grunted, arching a surprised
eyebrow at her. "Ryoushi Hasaki, huh? Looks like you got nailed by the
Nyanniichuan after all." She grinned sardonically. "Your brother's a
really great guy, you know that?"
"Y-yeah..." her voice trailed off as she stared at the pink-haired
woman. Now that Ryoushi really looked at her, her mesmerizing beauty
became apparent; she was probably the single most beautiful person that she
had ever laid eyes on, including those on TV, in magazines, and on dirty
videos. She wasn't particularly tall, though she was taller than Ryoushi,
especially with her high heels, and she had the most striking eyes that
Ryoushi had ever seen: a deep forest green, sharp, unspeakably beautiful,
and filled with suppressed emotions. Anger, dreams, lust, curiosity,
wonder, hate...they all resided deep within the depths of her eyes. It
also occurred to Ryoushi that being female had opened her mind to somewhat
corny introspection, and she quickly averted her eyes, embarrassed that she
had been trying to size someone up by staring at their eyeballs.
The two of them were silent for a few minutes, smoking the cheap
cigarettes and watching the rain, which neither increased nor decreased,
but merely softly pattered down, always staying exactly the same. It gave
Ryoushi the odd impression that it had been raining forever, and the rain
seemed...symbolic of something. But she had no idea what.
Ryoushi removed the unfinished half of the cigarette from her mouth and
crushed it beneath her sodden white tennis shoes. "I, uh, don't usually
smoke," she ventured, trying to spark a conversation with the beautiful
pink-haired woman. Tarou...where _had_ she heard that name before? And
how did this woman know her brother, Konatsu? And the Nyanniichuan...
The woman, Tarou, nodded. "Yeah," she offered in an emotionless tone,
"me neither. I just do it to calm down when I get stressed, you know."
"Where you from?"
"Western China. In the mountains. Kinda near Tibet." She finished
puffing on the cigarette and tossed it on the ground, where it fizzled in
the soft rain. "You wouldn't know the village name. You're from Kyoto,
right?"
Ryoushi nodded, slightly irritated. How did this woman know so much
about her? How did she know about the fucking Nyanniichuan? And why in
the world did a Chinese woman have pink hair that was obviously not dyed,
and green eyes? She was sure she knew her, and the name Tarou...she knew
if she had slept sometime in the past two days, she could have cleared her
head enough to recall this person. But as it was...
"Who are you, anyway?" Ryoushi demanded. She intended for her voice
to be sharp, but she found, much to her dismay, that it was nearly
impossible for her to speak harshly to a person so...so _beautiful_.
"Told you, I'm Tarou." She didn't say anything for a few moments,
then, seeing Ryoushi's flustered look, she added, "I'm a victim of the
Nyanniichuan, too, in case you're wondering, red-hair. Prefer not to let
people around here know that, of course, but I guess you'd understand
better than most, huh?" She grinned slightly.
Ryoushi froze. "You...you mean, you used to be a _man_?" That seemed
impossible. No, that _was_ impossible. It had to be.
"_Am_ a man," Tarou corrected her dryly, watching her horrified
reaction with amusement. "Love to be the one to break the good news.
Nyanniichuan's reversible." As Ryoushi seemed to have been rendered
incapable of speech, Tarou went on. "It's based on temperature, somehow.
Haven't really figured out how it works myself, but I'm sure it's got some
scientific explanation. Better to just say it's magical, though. Best not
to say anything at all," she muttered as an afterthought.
"T-temperature?" Ryoushi managed.
Tarou nodded, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. "That's
right, temperature. Cold liquid changes you into your cursed form - in our
cases, a female - and hot changes you back into your normal form. There
doesn't seem to be any 'standard' temperature range, because it's different
for...for, well, the people I know that are cursed," she corrected herself
quickly. "Erm, anyway, it's basically just whatever your skin perceives as
hot or cold. Lukewarm can go either way, so best not to mess with that if
you're looking not to be morphed suddenly."
They both lapsed into silence for five minutes or so, Ryoushi
collapsing into a sitting position as she tried to digest the information
and the events of two days ago. Tarou glanced at her every now and then, a
wry smirk on her face as she listened to Ryoushi mumble under her breath,
trying to come to terms with what had happened.
"Two days ago," Ryoushi said softly, watching the rain platter down on
the battered asphalt of the wide alley. "Two days ago, I was a normal guy,
you know that? Nice flat chest, pretty popular with the girls, half-decent
social life. Now...now, look at me! Goddammit, two fucking days, my
screwup brother waltzes into town, and look what happens!" She ground her
teeth together and shook her breasts violently with her slender hands.
"Good God, man, I've fucking got _breasts_. Me! _Breasts_! How could
something like this happen to me? What the hell I did do to make my own
god-forsaken brother give me a fucking sex change, huh? Tell me that!"
Tarou chuckled quietly. Ryoushi noticed, or would have if she hadn't
been so wrapped up in her misery, that it carried a somewhat evil quality
to it. It was a very unnerving chuckle. "Yeah, I used to ask myself those
same questions." She puffed on the cigarette. "Trust me, Hasaki, you'll
feel much better if you just accept it." She chuckled again. "Not like
you got much of a choice, anyway."
Ryoushi stared at her. Something suddenly occurred to her. "Why are
you wearing a skirt?" She demanded. "Aren't you supposed to be a man?"
"Supposed to be," Tarou agreed. "But I get better tips in the
resturaunt if I work as a girl and dress up in a skirt."
"You're willing to compromise your manhood for a fucking tip?" The
audacity of it stunned the red-haired girl, who had, in the past ten
minutes or so, suddenly developed an acute sense her masculinity (or lack
thereof). Tarou forcefully restrained herself from knocking the girl's
teeth out by recalling that this had once also happened to her for the
first time.
"Compromise my manhood?" The pink-haired woman asked, a little too
congenially. "How so?"
Ryoushi scowled. "It's practically prostitution!"
"Prostitution? Nah." Tarou recalled something Ryouga had said their
first day on the job. "Think of it more like strip-dancing or
pornography." She grinned mischievously at the red-haired girl, who was
brimming with righteous outrage. Before Ryoushi could sputter a protest,
Tarou cut her off, wiping the grin off her face. "Look, Hasaki, I need the
money; I owe someone a debt and I intend to repay it. And if dressing in a
skirt lets me pay it off faster, that's what I'm gonna do."
Ryoushi sat there for a few minutes, silent. She stared into the rain
again, and from the comparative dryness under the overhang, the rain
seemed...peaceful. -Might have been that way when I was walking through
it, though, too,- she realized. -I was too dazed to notice much.- Not
that she particularly blamed herself for being dazed; she imagined most
people would have gone into shock at a sudden sex change. She picked up a
small piece of loose gravel and tossed it into a puddle nearby, wondering
absently how Tarou handled it the first time she...he had changed.
Probably better than most people would have, or so she thought. Tarou had
maintained an impressive calm ever since she had met her.
-I wonder if her hair's pink as a guy,- Ryoushi pondered, grinning
inwardly at the thought. It probably wasn't, though, she knew, since her
hair certainly wasn't red when she was male. -And her eyes...hell, _my_
eyes. I wonder if my eyes are still the same color?- Ryoushi had been
fairly indifferent to her appearance as a male, but she knew that she...he
had had nice eyes. Girls had told her so. Him so. Ryoushi ground her
teeth slightly as she found the pronouns getting jumbled inside her head.
One of her old girlfriends had said that he had 'liquid brown eyes,'
another that they were enchanting, almost. Ryoushi had stared at his eyes
later, and decided that they _were_ kind of nice looking.
Unbidden - and completely unwelcome - an acute curiosity popped up as
to whether those eyes would have looked good on a girl. Before she could
suppress the thought, she found herself asking Tarou about it.
Tarou looked down at her in surprise. "Your eyes? Yeah, they're cute.
Always thought green eyes were pretty, myself."
"What do you mean, green?"
"Just that I think your eyes look good." She sighed crossly. "Hey,
don't look at me like that, red-hair. You asked."
"My eyes aren't green," Ryoushi growled flatly.
Tarou laughed. "Then my hair isn't pink. Get used to it, red-hair,
the Nyanniichuan changes more than just your gender."
Ryoushi scowled and stared into the rain again, which had stopped
looking so peaceful. What the hell else had changed about her? Her hair
was bright red now, her eyes were green, she had breasts, she was shorter,
her muscles felt weaker... Abruptly, she wondered whether her pubic hair
was red, and, checking and seeing that it was, she giggled slightly then
turned to look at Tarou. _Pink_ pubic hair?
Tarou looked blankly at Ryoushi, who was snickering uncontrollably.
"What's so funny?" She asked, having the uncomfortable feeling that the
joke was on her.
Ryoushi didn't respond. She just sat there and grinned at her, and she
was still grinning when Tarou announced that her break was over and started
for the back entrance.
Chan, who was splitting his time between cooking and rubbing his cheek
sourly where Ranma had punched him earlier, looked startled when a giggly
red-haired girl with bright green eyes and sodden boys' clothing trailed
Tarou back into the resturaunt. He looked her over, absently stirring a
thick meat-and-vegetables soup, and decided she bore a striking resemblance
to Ranma. Well, it wasn't _that_ striking, he supposed; it was just the
hair. Flame red and about the same length as Ranma's, it had apparently
been shaken from a ponytail by the rain, with only a tiny bit of hair still
tied back. It looked faintly ridiculous.
Actually, now that he looked at her more closely, her features, the
shape of her face - if it hadn't been for the hair, she would have looked
remarkably like that new girl, Kuonji.
"Welcome back, Tarou," Chan greeted the pink-haired woman dryly. "Hope
you enjoyed the sunshine."
Tarou favored him with a flat glare. "It's raining."
Chan snickered. "You don't say. Oh, Jerry says you have to work late
today, Pink." Chan had taken to calling Tarou 'Pink,' much to her
irritation, and she would have happily knocked him through the floor and
gotten fired if she wasn't trapped at this stupid job by having to pay back
that damned debt.
The debt. Damn the debt.
No, but...but it wasn't the debt, her mind insisted. She'd never taken
debts that seriously before; she certainly never put them before her pride.
-Look at me,- Tarou thought, disgusted. -I'm dressed in a miniskirt
because I got in a fight in some old man's washroom. How the hell'd it
come to this? A miniskirt, for God's sake...a _pink_ one! Okay, I helped
to wreck the guy's house, but repaying him isn't worth this. _Nothing's_
worth this.-
Nothing...?
-Okay, maybe something is,- Tarou admitted irately to herself. She
hated these bouts with her conscience. What was the old saying... Ah yes:
'You can lie to the world or you can lie to yourself, but you can't do
both.'
The debt?
No, of course the debt wasn't. Piss on the debt, piss on the damn
washroom, and piss on Soun Tendo. She couldn't have cared less about the
lot of them, if only it wasn't for...
Tarou scowled. She had promised herself that she wouldn't let her mind
wander down that dark trail, and damn her to hell if she started mulling it
over now.
After a moment or two, Chan coughed lightly. "Um, not to interrupt
your scowling, Pink, but who's this?" He pointed to the red-haired girl
standing to Tarou's side. Tarou noted sourly that she no longer looked
quite so morose, and wondered just what in the world she had found so funny
back there. One moment, she looked ready to leap off a bridge, the next
she was staring at her, giggling for all she was worth. And...
...she...looked like...Ukyou?
She did. Tarou stared at her momentarily, startled beyond words,
wondering how she'd missed the resemblance earlier. The hair. Aside from
the hair, she looked _exactly_ like Ukyou Kuonji. Ukyou... She tore her
eyes away from the girl.
"Her name's Ryouko," she lied shortly, in case the kid wasn't
interested in having his curse revealed to the world.
Ryoushi looked at her blankly, wondering why Tarou had suddenly averted
her gaze. "It is?"
Not surprisingly, it was still raining that night when the two of them
got off from work. It was the same dreary patter that it had been for the
entire day, and the soft sound of it on the roof of the dojo was somewhat
soothing.
Ryouga tightened the belt of his training gi, nodded at Ukyou.
"Alright, I'm ready."
"Sure you don't want to stretch a little more? With this duel with
Kunou coming up, this would be a really bad time to pull a muscle."
Ukyou's voice, normal as a woman, sounded a bit strange when she was in
male form, as she was now: it had a strange, almost gentle overtone in it
not often heard in men's voices. Ukyou had taken to fighting (and
sparring) in male form when she could; though she definitely preferred her
natural body, her male body had certain undeniable advantages in strength
and speed, and she didn't tire near as quickly. And both her bodies had
received intense endurance training from sparring Ryouga, who never seemed
to wear out in the least and whose massive strength would quickly inform
you if you were.
Ryouga shook his head. "I'm fine. Let's go."
With that, he cautiously edged towards Ukyou, his dark, steely eyes
probing him, checking for a weak spot. He feinted a head punch, then
followed up with a powerful strike to Ukyou's torso, hoping to score a
cheap shot. Ukyou, considerably faster than Ryouga on his best day, spun
out of the way, snatched Ryouga's arm out of the air, pulled it towards
him, and smashed him hard in the side with a thrust kick. As he expected,
Ryouga shrugged it off, used his superior strength to bend his arm before
Ukyou could lock it out, then forced it out again, smacking him solidly in
the lower chest. He staggered backwards towards the wall, angry at himself
for losing ground from such a weak attack. He quickly attempted to
counterattack with a side kick, which Ryouga dodged and caught, landing
another hard blow to Ukyou's chest before he could block, releasing Ukyou's
leg, and stomping into a horse stance as he launched a powerful closed-fist
strike at him. Ukyou, reacting swiftly, leaned to one side and kicked
Ryouga in the face, then spun and axe-kicked him forcefully on the side of
the head, sending him reeling to the ground. He landed with an unpleasant
thud, slightly stunned.
"Good one," he grunted sourly, clambering back to his feet and brushing
his white gi off. "Thought I had you for a second there."
"Ditto," Ukyou responded with a good-natured grin, rubbing his sore
chest. He pictured the nasty bruises that was sure to leave, and had a
mental image of how that would look on the breast of his female body. Not
a pleasant thought.
Ryouga cracked his knuckles. "Ready?"
Ukyou nodded, but before they could engage, a scowling, drenched Ranma
marched through the door to the dojo, followed close behind by Tarou,
typically cool and composed, whose face was the very picture of arrogant
fury. They were both still dressed in their skirts, but they seemed to
have ditched their high heels.
"Why hello, girls," Ukyou greeted them, smiling cheerfully. "Taking a
walk? I know how much you both love the rain."
Tarou scowled. "Fem-boy challenged me."
"Imagine that," Ukyou deadpanned.
"Pink-hair said he could defeat me!" Ranma raged, her fists clenched.
"He can," Ryouga informed him.
Ukyou looked at them both, surprised they hadn't torn one another to
pieces by now. "I take it the overtime didn't go too well."
Ranma pointed at Tarou accusingly. "It was fine until _she_ said that
_she_ could stay here!"
"Who?" Ryouga asked, puzzled.
"Hi," a girl with red hair and striking green eyes greeted them,
stepping into the dojo behind Tarou and Ranma. Her fiery hair lent her a
vague resemblance to Ranma. She looked like a mixture of someone who
giggles too much and someone who's about to commit suicide. She also
looked like she could use a good night's sleep. Or two or three.
Ukyou glanced her over. -If she'd had brown hair-, he mused silently,
-she'd look kinda like me. Her eyes are a little bigger, and green, of
course, but...- "Um, who's this?"
"I'm Ryouko. Pink said I could stay here." She glanced at Tarou, her
sullen visage suddenly breaking out into a giggle.
Tarou scowled. "My name is not 'Pink,' _Ryouko_."
Ryouko snickered. "It _should_ be. Considering what _my_ name isn't."
For some odd reason, considering the girl struck her as more than mildly
weird, Ukyou decided she liked her. It took guts to stand up to the big,
evil, I'm-so-macho-it-hurts Pantyhose Tarou, after all. Well, maybe less
if you were a girl and said evil Pantyhose Tarou was wearing a pink
skirt...but it was the principle of the thing.
Ukyou suddenly thought of something. "Hey, 'Pink.' Are you going to
pay this girl's rent, too?"
Tarou's scowl grew more severe, but it still looked pretty. Ukyou bet
she hated that. "No. Absolutely not. And dammit, Ryouko, I didn't say
you could stay here."
"You implied it," she returned accusingly.
"I did not!" Tarou shouted, stamping a foot, looking magnificently
beautiful while doing so. Ukyou grinned, wondering what had gotten her so
angry. "All I said was 'I'm staying at the Tendo Dojo!' I did not, in any
way, shape, or form, invite you to stay with me!"
"You implied it. I could tell you secretly wanted me to stay here."
Ukyou looked at Tarou, expecting her to...well, do something Tarou-ish.
Make a snide remark. Chuckle evilly. Challenge Ranma to a fight.
Instead, she ground her teeth, and stared at the wall, making a point of
not looking into Ryouko's face.
Ranma snickered. "Aw, is poor Pink-hair getting embarrassed again,
hm?" She put her arm around the pink-haired girl, making a 'heh' sound.
She was still making the 'heh' sound when Tarou punted her through the roof.
"I AM NOT EMBARRASSED!" Tarou roared. Prettily, of course.
"You're cute when you're angry," Ryouko informed her.
And suddenly, the room went silent. It wasn't one of those profound,
something-important's-about-to-happen silences. It was more like an
I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that silence. Or a you're-so-doomed silence,
but Ukyou knew that Tarou generally refused to hit girls.
The silence was broken by a loud splash from the bond as Ranma finally
landed.
Tarou's eyes were wide. And pretty. "W-w-wha...what did you...say?"
Her face was bright red.
Ukyou couldn't recall ever seeing the generally
cool-as-ice-and-probably-cooler Tarou get so flustered about anything
except her unfortunate name. He looked back at Ryouko, those big,
brilliant emerald eyes gazing at Tarou innocently.
Who _was_ this? Some...no, surely not. But... Tarou _was_ a very
attractive woman. Had she attracted the attention of some...some lesbian
girl...? He eyed the green-eyed girl over again. Her face bore a very
remarkable resemblance to his own...well, when he was in his natural form,
anyway. How strange.
Ryouga coughed. "Did...eh...did she just say..."
Tarou grabbed the front of his training gi and shook him, rather like a
schoolyard bully picking on some weakling underclassman. Well, it would
have been rather like that if beautiful, slender, pink-haired girls were
ever schoolyard bullies and muscular, rugged-looking guys were ever
weakling underclassmen.
It looked pretty comical, actually.
Ryouga, not quite getting the hint, continued: "...that you were cute?"
Ukyou winced as Tarou growled and knocked the crap out of him with a
few wrath-infused punches, then tossed him out the dojo's new skylight,
which had been created moments earlier by Ranma.
"I am _not_ embarrassed," Tarou repeated, huffing.
Ukyou would have disagreed with her, but he was in male form so he
wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. A wolf's furious growling was heard
outside as Ryouga dragged himself from the pond. Tarou dodged a punch from
a noisily charging Ranma, then threw her out the skylight again.
Ryouko giggled at Tarou. "But you _are_ going to let me stay, aren't
you, Pink?"
Tarou looked at her and, grimacing, immediately wished she hadn't.
"I...I..."
She was cut off by her own yelp of pain. Bloody murder in her eyes,
she looked down to see breaks in her calf skin...teeth marks. "RYOUGA."
She tensed, furious. "THAT'S THE LAST TIME YOU'RE EVER GOING TO BITE ME,
WOLF-BOY!" she bellowed (prettily, if that's even possible), launching a
furious barrage of attacks.
The gray wolf grinned and stuck its long tongue out at the raging girl
as it dodged her attack, darting to the side and colliding with her
midsection, attempting to knock her over.
Tarou didn't budge an inch. Instead, she chuckled evilly and grabbed
it by the bandanna, hurling it out the door. The wolf yowled in surprise
as it flew through the rain, landing with a thump-splash sound in a large
puddle.
Ranma stomped back into the dojo, wearing a thoroughly sodden miniskirt
and an evil look. She pointed a finger at Tarou. "YOU."
Tarou, who in Ukyou's opinion seemed relieved at a distraction from
Ryouko, turned to the pigtailed boy, wearing a not-quite-as-sodden
miniskirt and an evil look. "No, YOU." Ukyou frowned. Hadn't he heard
her say that somewhere before...?
The two charged each other, lashing out and pummeling each other
thoroughly, cursing loudly, and loving every minute of it. Chances are
they loved it because, as beautiful girls dressed in miniskirts, it had a
reaffirming effect on their masculinity and soothed their egos. Ukyou was
privately startled at Tarou's reckless fighting technique - she was
generally much more reserved, patient, deadly. Just now, though, she had
just abandoned all that, shouted, and charged at her opponent.
Something was bothering her. Ukyou bemusedly watched the two girls go
at it, her eyes widening slightly as the brawl went on. Ranma seemed to be
_winning_. How could that be? Tarou could take Ranma, Ryouga, and himself
on at the same time and win; usually it didn't even take the cocky bastard
much effort to pound them all. She could even take on Genma, when the
older man fought fair and didn't use his disappearing tricks during the
fight. But here she was, trading blows with Ranma, and slowly but surely,
she was giving ground. Something was _definitely_ bothering her.
Ukyou looked at her, suddenly amused.
Maybe it was the skirt...
Nah. The skirt had to be bothering her, but Ranma was wearing a skirt,
too. Then...it was that girl. Ryouko.
Ukyou glanced idly at the red-haired girl that looked so much like her
natural self. Something about her set Tarou on edge, but for the life of
her, Ukyou couldn't imagine what it was. There didn't seem to be much out
of the ordinary with her - well, okay, her eyes were kind of mesmerizing if
you stared at them too long, but besides that...
...there wasn't anything. But there had to be _something_; she knew
Tarou well enough to know that Mr. Too-Cool-For-Words-And-Maybe-Cooler
didn't get all worked up over nothing. The girl's mannerisms seemed a
little strange, but then, she had a disheveled look that was obvious even
though she was soaking wet; she looked as though she hadn't slept in a few
days. Two or three days without sleep, as Ukyou was all too aware, would
make a person act really erratic.
What else?
Okay, she wanted to stay at the Tendos'. That was a little weird; it
wasn't like the Tendo family was running an apartment complex. And...oh
yeah. She had wanted to stay with Tarou.
Tarou had, one time while they were still in China, blubbered out the
story of his 'tragic past' to her one night. As she had sat there,
wondering why Tarou was telling her this, he had been ranting about how
he'd save girls, but when they asked his name he couldn't bear it and would
run off.
He recalled...
"...and I couldn't tell her my name, so I had to leave!" He seemed
near tears, clenching his fist.
Ukyou looked a little embarrassed. "Er...there, there, Tarou," she had
offered, tentatively patting him on the shoulder. She was no good at this
stuff. Especially with _Tarou_, of all people. The guy had the biggest
superiority complex she'd ever seen. (And he occasionally hinted that he
wanted to take over the world, which was more than a little bit strange.)
"But...but you!" Tarou turned on her suddenly, his eyes bright and
earnest. "You know my name...and you...you..." His fist clenched and
unclenched spasmodically as he tried to say something that didn't seem
forthcoming. He suddenly steeled with resolve. "Ukyou Kuonji, you-"
And then Ryouga arrived.
"Hi Ucchan!" He greeted her cheerfully. "Still up, huh, Tarou? I
can't sleep...either..." He looked nervously at Tarou, who was glowing.
It was a very malicious glow.
"YOU," Tarou thundered.
"_That's_ where I heard him say that before!" Ukyou realized, snapping
his fingers.
A brawl ensued, a glowing, furious Tarou beating the snot out of the
hapless Ryouga, Ranma waking up from all the noise, emerging from his tent,
and asking what the fight was about. Tarou had done the 'YOU' thing again
and thrown a really big rock at him, at which point Ranma charged him, and
he and Ryouga had started tag-teaming Tarou. Ukyou had grinned, pulled out
her staff, and happily joined the fray, beating them all over the head as
general pandemonium ensued. Genma, who slept like a rock but unfortunately
didn't snore like one, had come out of his tent, too, yawning and telling
them all to shut up, but the fray had kind of drifted over to him, and he
was dragged into it, protesting loudly.
At length, it had come down to a still-glowing Tarou stomping on a
badly battered Ryouga, flailing around in the meanwhile, shouting for Genma
to stop being a coward and stop using his magic tricks to hide himself.
Genma had done so, appeared behind Tarou, and hurled the already-injured
martial artist into a nearby boulder.
"You're lucky I'm feeling forgiving toda-" Genma had began, before
Tarou, still glowing but not quite so brightly, had roared and charged at
him. A few moments later Genma was unconscious, and Tarou had collapsed
shortly afterward, mostly because of numerous injuries from a staff-happy
Ukyou, who he refused to attack. Ryouga had wobbled to his feet and
started to declare himself victor, but the half-conscious Ranma picked up a
rock and threw it at him.
"Hah...you think that...hurt...hahh...hahh..." He grinned, looking
something like a maniac, then collapsed in a heap.
She never knew just what Tarou had been about to tell her, and he never
brought it up again, so she always figured it was of no importance. But,
thinking back on it now, it almost seemed like...like he was about to say
that he _lov...
But then, it was Tarou. Ukyou couldn't picture Tarou being in love
with anyone, so he decided that that couldn't be it. He turned towards the
two brawling women, a wry smile on his face. Tarou seemed to have regained
her cool and was kicking Ranma around pretty bad, and there was a rather
large hole in the side the the dojo where Tarou had missed.
Ranma danced backwards from a kick, barely avoiding the wall. She
laughed at her pink-haired opponent. "You're getting slow, pink-hair!"
She taunted, spinning out of the way of another kick. Tarou seemed to be
having trouble keeping her cool. The next kick didn't avoid the wall, and
the dojo gained yet another window. She pivoted and kicked Tarou hard in
the side, following up with a flurry of punches, all of which were blocked.
Tarou chuckled evilly, maneuvering out of the way of a somewhat
reckless punch, taking a glancing blow on her cheekbone, and grabbing hold
of Ranma's arm. Ranma was quickly sent soaring across the dojo. "Slow, am
I, fem-boy?"
Ranma spun in midair, bounding off the wall. It cracked. She grabbed
hold of the ceiling, ripping a small hole in it, then pulled herself over
Tarou's head, ripping a larger hole in it, and dropkicked her opponent, who
simply stepped to the side, leaving Ranma to smash through the floor,
sending splinters and pieces of wood flying everywhere.
Tarou began to make a snide remark, but Ranma had already jumped up
from the hole in the floor and planted her fist in her face. "_Very_
slow," she confirmed, cackling as Tarou roared and jumped forward,
railroading the hapless redhead right before Tarou flung her at the same
wall as before. Already weakened from before, it completely gave out,
blowing apart with a loud crack. Cursing at the pink-haired girl, Ranma
landed, not in the pond, but in a big muddy puddle. It slurched
disgustingly as she landed.
"You...you're MINE!" Ranma staggered to her feet, ripped a large branch
from a nearby tree, and charged into the dojo, wielding it like a baseball
bat. Since the branch was the size of a small tree, it tore through the
ceiling whenever Ranma swung it, but no one seemed to notice. Tarou dodged
the first giant swipe, then sidestepped the second one, closing quickly and
kicking Ranma through the roof, letting the big branch scuff the floor as
it landed, lurching to a stop in the trail of mud that Ranma had brought in.
"Feh." Tarou snorted, turning around. "Guess that's tha-"
She was cut off by Ryouga grabbing her throat. "GLUE," she snarled,
pounding Ryouga, who had somehow managed to turn human again, over the
head, sending him into another newly-made hole in the floor. Ukyou figured
she actually meant 'YOU,' but being choked does funny things to people's
vocal cords.
"Welcome back, Ryo-chan," Ukyou greeted him dryly, bashing Tarou in the
back of the head with his staff, then flinging him into a nearby wall. It
cracked familiarly. Ukyou saw Ryouko flinch as she watched.
Ryouga grinned at her. He was still grinning at her when Tarou
dislodged herself from the wall, stormed up to Ryouga, pummeled him,
grabbed him, and hurled him to the floor. He made a sizable dent. Ryouga,
however, had managed to get a handhold on Tarou's throat, and threw her
off-balance just as Ranma charged back into the dojo and careened into her.
This time, she went completely through the wall, landing in the mud just
in time to see the pathetic remains of the walls completely give out. The
roof of the dojo cracked and fell on the unfortunate combatants with a
deafening roar.
"My dojo."
None of the assembled homewreckers had anything to say to that.
Instead, they just kind of sat there, their faces betraying a wide range of
emotions. Genma, for example, looked guilty as hell, even though he hadn't
been part of the brawl that had demolished the Tendo dojo, while Pantyhose
Tarou looked severely pissed off and frustrated. Ryouga looked wolfish.
Which was kind of expected, since he was, after all, a wolf.
"MY DOJO!"
There was still no response from the homewreckers, as they sat in the
Tendo family room with Soun Tendo doing his raging demon routine at them.
Well, none of them could have argued that he was unjustified in being a
raging demon, but...
"_MY DOJO!!!_" He pointed a quivering finger at the two men, three
women, and the wolf, tears streaming down his face. "YOU BASTARDS
DESTROYED MY DOJO!!! THAT WAS THE TENDO FAMILY LEGACY, PASSED DOWN FROM
GENERATION TO GENERATION AND ALWAYS, _ALWAYS_ TREATED WITH EXTREME RESPECT
AND CARE, AND YOU PIECES OF BAT SHIT COME IN HERE AND THINK THAT YOU CAN
JUST DEMOLISH IT AND IT'LL ALL BE FINE, DON'T YOU?!? WELL, IT'S _NOT_ FINE
AND I'M NOT GOING TO TOLERATE IT, YOU HEAR ME? STARTING THIS _INSTANT_,
YOU SLIMY SONS OF BITCHES ARE GOING TO WORK FROM DAWN TILL DUSK FIXING THE
DOJO OR I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GOING TO KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!!" He began
to storm from the room, then suddenly whipped around and screamed: "AND MY
BATHROOM STILL ISN'T FIXED, YOU HOMEWRECKING _FUCKS_!!!"
He left.
"Well," Ukyou said, deadpan, "that could have been better."
That night, Ryouko not only stayed in the Tendo household, she slept in
a bed next to an acutely nervous Tarou.
Genma was sound asleep an hour later.
Ukyou and Ryouga decided to take a trip to the public baths.
Ranma stole into the kitchen and just about emptied the entire
refrigerator.
The Tendo girls did the stuff the Tendo girls always did.
None of them lifted a finger to repair the dojo.
"You know," Ryouga said, relaxing in the public bath, "there's really
something to be said for good, solid concrete walls, wouldn't you say, Ukyou?"
Ukyou, who had entered the men's baths as a man, and hoped that since
the patronage of the bathhouse was sparse at best her being a woman would
go unnoticed, sighed as the hot water licked at her. "Here's to that,
Ryo-chan," she murmured contentedly.
END CHAPTER 5
Author's note: Okay, considering the absolutely ridiculous amount of time
it took me to get this chapter out, some of you undoubtedly expected
something a lot, well, _better_ than what actually resulted. I apologize
to all of you who are disappointed by this, but I had to overcome about six
different writer's blocks to finish this chapter.
C&C is _highly_ appreciated, especially considering that 3/4 of this
chapter was written in a time when I wasn't too keen on accurate
characterization. Ryouga-worship abounds, and for that, my apologies.
If/when I write chapter 6, expect to see the weird stuff going on with
Tarou, Ukyou, and Ryoushi/Ryouko cleared up a bit. And again, as before,
if anyone is interested in taking over this story for me, please, notify me
via email!
I hope you enjoyed it. God knows I kept any remaining fans of the series
waiting long enough. My email address is guilds@mail.serve.com, and,
again, C&C appreciated.
-George/Hunter Kid
Saturday, 18 March 2000