Speaking of second chances...
COULD BE WORSE
by Scott K. Jamison
Note: These characters rightfully belong to their creators.
_Then_
"And stay out!"
The panda came sailing out the gate face first, but tucked and
rolled for minimum damage.
He picked himself up, brushed off the dust, and headed back
towards the house, only to be met by his son.
"Sorry, Pops, but this time Akane means it. You know how she
gets when she's pregnant. And we all remember what happened the last
time you babysat. Why doncha go home to Mom, okay?"
Genma pulled out a sign. [But we need to start his training as
early as possible! After all, you--]
"Yeah, yeah, I turned out just *great*, didn't I? I'll raise my
son the way me and Akane decided to, thank you very much." Ranma
picked his father up. "Let me give you a lift!"
As the panda sailed in the general direction of his home, he
grumbled to himself. "Ungrateful boy! I devote the best years of my
life to making him a martial arts god, a man among men, and *this* is
how he repays me?" Maybe, if Tendou had lived, they could have kept
a lid on their children. But as it was, the little ingrates were
shutting him out of training his grandson.
Admittedly, in retrospect, he'd made a few small mistakes
bringing up Ranma. Tiny ones, really, that had gotten blown out of
all proportion compared to the good Genma had done the boy.
"Hmm, altitude's dropping." Genma looked down to see that he'd
land near a bar where he was known and didn't have too high a tab.
"I could definitely use a drink," he thought, as he slammed into the
brick wall.
Genma nursed a cup of cheap sake. His tab had been too high,
after all, and he'd had to dig into his emergency cash to pay up. So
this drink would have to last. It was still early in the day, and
most of the customers were the hard-bitten type.
Well, except for that one bearded fellow in the tinted glasses
and a really nice-looking suit talking on his cell phone. He didn't
look like the type who went to bars during the day.
And he'd brought a child in with him. A boy, three or perhaps
four at most. Kind of scrawny and pale, sullen, but there was
something in his eyes Genma recognized. He had *potential*.
Genma leaned a little closer to hear what the bearded man was
saying.
"--mean, you can't take him? I have important work to do, I
can't be burdened with a child at this juncture....Yes, it is
unfortunate that his mother is...no longer with us....You are my
brother, after all, and blood is thicker than water....Very funny.
Fine then. I will make other arrangements." The man hung up.
"This was not in the plan," he muttered, ignoring the child's
tugging his sleeve. "See if they get to be evolved with the rest of
us..."
Genma had an idea flash through his brain. The man would
probably laugh him off, but it was worth a try...
"Excuse me, sir, but do I understand that your wife has died?"
The bearded man turned to face Genma. There was something cold
in his expression. "That is a fairly accurate assessment, yes. Why
do you ask?"
"My condolences. It's been my experience that boys need a
strong parental presence when they're little, or the nearest thing
they can get. Looking at your boy, I'd say exercise and fresh air
would do him a world of good. Have you considered having him trained
in the martial arts?"
The other man folded his hands in front of him, obscuring his
mouth. "No, I had not. Your point?"
"As it happens, I am a martial arts instructor. Genma Saotome,
at your service."
An eyebrow quirked. "As in Ranma Saotome, the one who--"
"The very same. I'm his father, and the one who trained him."
"Impressive."
"Of course, the boy has surpassed me now, and I have time for
another student. And I'm sure my wife would be thrilled to have a
child to take care of for a while. I can't promise your son will be
a *great* martial artist, but he seems to have potential."
The bearded man lowered his hands, and there was a thin smile on
his face. "Tell me more."
Genma grinned as he carried the boy on his shoulder. Gendou
Ikari hadn't even blinked at the outrageous yearly stipend he had
suggested as a training and boarding fee.
He was already laying out a training schedule in his head.
They'd have to start slow, because the boy was so puny, but in a few
months he'd be ready for some real training. And this time, Genma
promised himself, no mistakes.
He looked up at the boy. "Yep, Shinji, you're going to be
grateful, you are..."
_Now_
Shinji kicked off his shoes with the precise flick to land them
in his spot in the entryway.
"Auntie N! I'm home!"
"That's nice, dear. How was school?"
"Boring. Can't wait for another training trip."
Mrs. Saotome came into the living room from the kitchen. "I'm
afraid you'll have to, dear." She looked a little sad.
"Whassup?"
"Your father has ordered you to come to Tokyo-3."
Shinji blinked. "My...father? You mean, my old man *finally*
wants to see me after ten years? What for?"
"He didn't say, but he did stress that it was urgent." She
reached into her apron pocket. "This is from the woman who will meet
you at the station there. Healthy-looking, isn't she?"
Shinji looked at the picture. Interesting, but a little old for
him.
"What about Uncle Genma?"
"He'll be told as soon as he comes home. Come on now, you have
only two hours to pack, and I've been preparing your train meal..."
Continued?
The premise requires, of course, that Genma *is* a competent
martial arts trainer, despite his idiocy. He's avoided making the
*same* mistakes with Shinji he did with Ranma (no cat-fist), but that
doesn't mean he hasn't made some....
SKJAM!
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