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Direction Sense
a Ranma 1/2 Fanfic by Bjorn Christianson (bjorn@etho.caltech.edu)
Ranma 1/2 copyright 1987, 1999 by Takahashi Rumiko.
Publishing rights by Shogakukan Inc. (Japan) and Viz
Inc. (North America) This work is not intended to infringe
those rights, and is done without knowledge or consent of
the rights holders.
Comments and criticism appreciated and actively sought.
Author's Notes at the end.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bicycle thundered down the fence in much the same way
that other bicycles, ridden by lesser, mortal, Olympic
champions, thunder down racetracks.
Her destination was clearly in sight, which made Shampoo
scowl. In an ideal world, her destination would be blocked
by the much more appealing view of her husband. The bike
would then, with a certain inanimate sense of relief, return
to the roadways it was meant for, and Shampoo herself would
be rescued from the terrible impact by the powerful arms of
her beloved -- possibly without his cooperation, of course.
Instead, he wasn't here. In fact, Shampoo had no idea at
all where he was, which happened far more often than it was
supposed to. After all, they were married. A wife should
always know the whereabouts of her husband, and a husband
should always know the whereabouts of his wife, which was
exactly two steps behind him at the worst possible moment.
A burgeoning delivery business at the Nekohanten had sucked
away Shampoo's spare time, and she hadn't seen Ranma in over
two weeks. Right now, he might be gorging on vile Japanese
foodstuffs at the shop of the "mistress" of spatulas, or
suffering under the ministrations of the violent brute. He
might even be fighting in some challenge or the other, which
was certainly a proper Amazon pastime, as long as he won.
But wherever he was, he was doing it without Shampoo, and it
would simply take too long for her to hunt him down.
Nor should she have to. They were married, after all.
Her face hardened as the bike descended to the sidewalk for
the last burst to the Nekohanten. She had put up with this
unfortunate distance between her husband and herself for too
long, but no longer.
Amazons had ways of dealing with problems like this.
Dismounting by the back door, she stalked through the
kitchen's familiar scent of ramen. "Great-Grandmother!
Need your help!"
* * *
A few hours later, Shampoo bounced over the rooftops,
looking for her husband. When she'd explained her idea,
Cologne had immediately assigned Mousse to delivery duty.
The confusions and delays the half-blind martial artist
inevitably brought with him would hurt business for days to
come. They still hadn't lived down the fifteen bowls meant
for the police department that had ended up with the local
bookie. This time, however, it took both him and restaurant
duties out of Shampoo's hair for the rest of the day. With
that, the preparations had been relatively simple. Now all
that remained was implementation.
Taking a shortcut through the shopping district on the way
to the Tendo Dojo, she spotted her prey.
"Airen!"
Ranma casually turned from the store-front display, raising
a hand in greeting. He was alone at the moment, but Akane
had to be nearby: there was no other reason that he would
be moping about a women's clothing store. Whatever he was
about to say was arrested as his eyes locked on to the
take-out box in her hand.
The clearly audible intestinal rumbling brought a happy
little grin to Shampoo's face, which quickly transmuted into
a seductive smirk. The take-out box was hefted up by her
face, her cheek rubbing against the smooth wood. "Airen
hungry for something?" she purred.
The carefully-projected sexuality faltered when it became
obvious that Ranma's attention was entirely absorbed by the
promised food. Shampoo quietly sighed. If her husband
would simply allow his hormones to do all his thinking, she
wouldn't be forced to these extremes.
"Great-Grandmother make new cakes for Nekohanten menu.
Airen try, tell Shampoo what he think, yes?" The tempting
odor of almond wafted out as she opened the box.
Ranma nodded frantically, and lunged forward, only to bring
his hand to a stop just above the treat. Almost painfully,
he wrenched his eyes toward Shampoo. Hesitantly, he asked,
"Uh, Shampoo? This stuff is... normal, right?"
Shampoo let her eyes fill with tears. "Airen no trust
wife?"
Wilting, Ranma flapped his hands at her. "No, no! It's not
that! I mean... I just... You know...."
With her free hand, Shampoo wiped away the tears and smiled
at him. "Airen no worry. Shampoo bring two cakes, see?
Airen pick one, Shampoo eat other."
Relief returned Ranma's spine. "Great!" He grabbed a cake
-- the one closest to him, Shampoo noticed. She inwardly
rolled her eyes. Her husband was really too trusting for
his own good, even if it wouldn't make a difference this
time. The sound of splashing water brought her senses back
to the present with Jusenkyo-tuned speed.
Her husband had shielded her and the cakes from the sudden
assault, at the cost of becoming female. She turned around
to confront Akane, who had emerged from the store, holding a
paper bag in one hand and a now-empty soda can in the
other. "What was that for?" Ranma screeched.
Akane fumed. "I can't believe you! I step into a store for
five minutes, and by the time I come back, you're already
*flirting* with one of your *girlfriends!*"
"Five minutes? Try half an hour! Yer as slow shopping as
ya are at everything else! And ya knew I was hungry! I'm
just lucky Shampoo came along before I passed out!"
Suddenly reminded, Ranma popped the cake whole into her
mouth.
Yes! Exulting, Shampoo took a bite of her own pastry and...
Nothing happened.
She stared at the cake, which had the gall to completely
fail to look embarrassed. Another exploratory bite produced
nothing in the same copious quantities. Even if it did
taste very good.
Bewildered, Shampoo looked up only to see Akane stomping
away, Ranma trailing in her wake. Most of the day spent on
this, and she hadn't even managed to get the violent savage
to drive Shampoo's husband away, she thought bitterly.
"Airen!" Even preoccupied with her protestations, Ranma was
able to snag the half-eaten dessert from midair. "Shampoo
no want rest. You eat, yes?"
If nothing else, maybe that would make Akane snap.
* * *
Ranma tagged after her fiancee, irritatedly trying to make
sense of the current problem. "Come on, Akane! What's the
big deal? It's just food!"
With a snarl, Akane turned on her. "It's not 'just food!'
Are you...." Her voice trailed off.
Slowly, Ranma followed her gaze. Then she whipped the
half-eaten cake behind her back, and chuckled nervously.
"Uh, well..."
Akane's slap made her ears ring. "You stupid jerk!" The
words floated on the air as she ran for home.
Empty hand half-raised in protest, Ranma froze. That's
funny, she thought, it got kinda dark all of a sudden....
Most people, when suddenly covered in shadows, would look up
to determine the cause. One of the arguable benefits to
Ranma's lifestyle, though, was that the answer was always
the same.
She landed on the lamppost in a squat, and cheerfully
greeted the rising dust cloud. "Hey, P-chan, how's it
going?"
Ryoga fanned the dust away from his face. "Ranma," he
growled. "I saw what you did. For treating, Akane like
that, there can be no forgiveness!"
Ranma mentally tuned the rest of the rant out. Normally,
the fight would have been worth putting up with Ryoga's
diatribe, but this mess was beginning to irritate her. Why
did everyone expect her to turn down free food? Time to get
Ryoga down to business.
Idly, her gaze fell on the current point of contention, and
an idea took her. Smiling evilly, she whipped the cake into
Ryoga's mouth mid-recrimination, and stood up.
"Geez, ya pig. Didn't yer mother tell ya never to talk with
yer mouth full?" she asked the choking martial artist.
With difficulty, Ryoga swallowed. "RAAAANNNNMA! Prepare to
die!"
* * *
Wearily, Ranma kicked her slippers off and trudged toward
the family room. "I'm home."
"Welcome back," Kasumi called from the kitchen. "Dinner
will be ready in just a half-hour or so. Did you have a
nice day?"
Unseen, Ranma shrugged. "Not bad. Fought a bit with Ryoga,
but he got lost." Idly, she rubbed at a calf. Ryoga had
been especially tenacious. She'd had to goad him around
half of Nerima before he'd finally taken a wrong turn. "Do
ya think I have time for a quick bath?"
"Certainly."
A few minutes later, and Ranma was rinsing herself off with
cold water. Admittedly, she could have used hot water, and
spared herself even a few minutes more in cursed form.
She'd tried that in the past, but, well... nothing felt as
good as cold water on tired, aching muscles right before
hopping in the furo.
And ache she did. Not so much from the fight, even if there
had been a lot more running than normal. No, it was
spending the day shopping with Akane that had done it.
Really, how long should it take to buy one lousy dress?
High above her, the tiny bathroom window opened, and a small
black blur dropped down beside her.
"Hey, Ryoga. Long time no see." Ranma set down the bucket
she'd used to cover herself. Porcine black blurs were hard
to distinguish from lecherous ones.
The pig delivered a dirty look of the sort that a species
develops over several thousand years of rooting in muck, and
trotted over to the furo. Hooking his front hooves over
the edge, he scrambled at the walls before tumbling in with
a splash.
"How'd ya change, anyways? Ladle lady get ya?" Ranma
continued to soap herself up.
Ryoga violently sneezed out the water he'd inhaled. "No,"
he replied, a bit dazed. "I walked through the waterfall by
mistake."
Idly, Ranma tried to decide whether Ryoga had spent part of
the day in the mountains, or whether the "waterfall" was
somebody's garden sprinkler. It probably wasn't worth
asking. "Right."
Shaking his head to clear it, Ryoga growled, "It's all your
fault, Ranma! If you hadn't run away from me...."
"Ya still would've gotten lost," Ranma finished. She stood
up. "Shove over and let me in, pig-boy."
Ryoga surged up from the tub. "Don't try to ignore me,
Ranma! Today, I will take my...."
"Ranma!" Akane threw the door open. "What exactly is... oh
my."
"Eep," Ryoga offered before leaving to explore the mysteries
of the furo floor.
"Geez, d'ya mind?" Ranma gave Akane an irritated glance.
"I know I hung the sign out this time. If people don't stop
interrupting me, I'm gonna be late for supper."
Akane shut the door without another word.
Kneeling by the side of the furo, Ranma thrust her arm in,
fumbled around the bottom, and hauled Ryoga out by the
scruff of his neck. "As for you...." She turned on the
cold water spray and booted the still-crimson pig out the
open window.
"I told ya ta shove over."
* * *
Akane trembled at her desk, a blush still burning her cheeks
and all anger at the day's fight vanished. The disturbing
sequence kept running through her mind: Ryoga snaring Ranma
with the fishing rod of love... Ryoga embracing Ranma,
claiming all his actions were to demonstrate his true
devotion... Ryoga, naked, advancing on a female Ranma,
shouting about the things he planned to take....
She shook her head furiously, but the thought refused to be
dismissed. Ranma had been cured of the love curse, and
Akane had watched the two carefully, but they had seemed to
go back to their normal testosterone-ridden competitive
relationship. Today, however, seemed to show that even if
Ranma was back to normal, Ryoga was perhaps still a
little... lonely.
By the time Kasumi called her down for dinner, Akane had
resolved to make sure the two martial artists weren't left
alone for the next little while. Perhaps she could convince
Ranma to stop teasing poor Ryoga.
* * *
Ryoga, as P-chan, cursed Ranma. Pig was actually a
surprisingly good language for abuse, and he liked to take
full advantage of it.
It would probably take him most of a week to find the Tendo
dojo again. He'd been incredibly lucky to find it once
today, and luck wasn't a big part of Ryoga's life. Or at
least not good luck. For Ryoga, that was.
He slowed down as he neared a corner. Corners, in his
experience, mostly had kitchens on the other side. His
snout inched slowly around, to be greeted by an
enthusiastic, "P-chan!"
Okay, he thought. Not "fresh pork." Good sign. Then his
ears managed to cudgel the rest of his brain hard enough to
get its full attention.
In front of him was... Akane. Well, and the rest of the
Tendos and that <fat lout who grabs all the good truffles
and pisses on the rest> Ranma, but they didn't count. Oh,
sweet Akane, that I should find you twice in one day... it
must be the love in my heart guiding me forward! Happily,
he bounded forward and pounced into her lap.
Strange. When did Akane start wearing Chinese trousers?
A hand snagged his bandanna-turned-collar and he was slowly
brought up to meet Ranma's flat gaze, which he returned with
his own. How *dare* Ranma replace Akane's lap with his own?
"Be nice, Ranma," Akane warned. "P-chan's finally showing
some affection towards you, so don't you dare pick on him."
Ranma's eyes flicked from the pig to Akane and back.
Silently, he passed Ryoga over to Akane, who immediately
cuddled him to her chest.
"Oh, P-chan," she cooed. "Where have you been? I've been
so worried." She got up, placed him on her seat, and headed
for the kitchen. "Stay right there, P-chan. I'll be back
in just a minute with some food."
When she came back with a bowl, however, the cushion was
bare. She glared at her fiance. "Ranma, what did you do
with P-chan?"
"I didn't do nothing." He extended his arm, which came with
a porcine fury savaging his wrist. "Now would ya tell that
to yer damn pig?"
Ryoga was beyond hearing. How *dare* Ranma switch his lap
with Akane's seat again?
"Honestly," she huffed, and grabbed the pig. "Don't worry
about the mean man, P-chan." She set the pig down in her
lap, and grabbed his food. "Now, open.... Where'd he go?"
Again without a word, Ranma reached between his legs and
produced a pig.
Uncertainly, Akane reached out and took him. "Is this some
sort of new training technique?"
"No. He just keeps coming over here."
They stared at each for a few seconds. "If you say so.
Now, how about some food, P-chan? P-chan?"
"Here."
"There has to be a reason. Did you spill something on your
pants?"
For keeping me away from my meal, Ryoga swore to himself,
Ranma will pay!
* * *
Ryoga brooded by his campfire. After an all-too-long
dinner, Ranma had somehow managed to hang the sign for
Akane's room on the washroom door, and after luring the pig
in while seated on the toilet, had viciously punted him out
of the compound. So now, here he was. Alone, on this dark
night, in the middle of the wilderness, rather than wrapped
in Akane's loving embrace. Such was the hell of his life.
Well, after a good night's sleep, he'd be ready to teach
Ranma a lesson -- when he found him again. Tramping out the
last embers, he pushed his way into his tent and fell down
onto his futon. As he drifted off and anger faded into
melancholia, he burrowed his face into his pillows.
Wait a minute. He didn't have a futon. Or even one pillow,
let alone two cushiony, firm, round....
Insanely strong hands seized his ears and cranked his head
upwards, to meet the eyes of a beautiful girl who just
coincidentally happened to look like she was in the market
for a namesake adornment for her pigtail.
Oh, shit.
* * *
Akane crashed into the guest room, brandishing her shinai.
"What's going on in here?" Kasumi timidly peered over
shoulder, and they both stared at the raging Ranma, still
standing with her fist pointed at the recently-enlarged
window.
"That *pervert* Ryoga snuck in here and *groped* me!" she
spat. "If I find out that Happosai's been training that
jerk, I'm gonna...."
Genma, at least, evinced no interest in the details of
Ranma's threat, and beat his son unconscious with a sign
clearly labeled: "Quiet. Panda sleeping."
The shinai clattered from Akane's numb fingers. "Ryoga
wouldn't... would he?" she whispered to herself.
"What was that, Akane?"
"Nothing, Kasumi." She shut the door. At least, I hope
it's nothing.
* * *
It wasn't until breakfast that Akane worked up the courage
to broach the subject.
Setting down her miso soup, she cleared her throat. "Ranma,
don't you think that Ryoga is acting a bit... strangely?"
Ranma used Parting the Mists to drive his father's
sudden assault into the table, snatched his plate up to his
face, and spared Akane a glance. "No more than normal.
Why?"
"He snuck into the bathroom with you yesterday, and then
showing up in your room last night...." She paused to let
the staccato clatter of clashing chopsticks decrescendo.
"And, well, I can't stop thinking about the... 'fishing'
incident a few weeks back." Suspicion prodded her. "You
haven't been teasing him again, have you?"
"Ya think...." Ranma's sudden hesitation provided ample
opening for his father to steal a healthy portion of rice.
"Hey, I was eatin' that, old man! Nah, I haven't done
anything to Ryoga except beat him senseless. I think he
just got lost." He smugly swallowed his father's pickles.
"He does show up in the weirdest places," Akane conceded
doubtfully, standing up from the table. Brushing off her
skirt, she took the proffered bentos from her oldest sister.
"Thanks, Kasumi. Still, you should try to be nice to him
for a little while."
"It's not my fault he's always challenging me! Besides,
after yesterday, no point in worrying about it for a bit."
Ranma stretched as he followed Akane to the front door.
"It'll take him weeks to get back here."
He stepped out and bumped his nose on an umbrella tip.
"Ranma! Prepare to die!"
"Maybe not."
* * *
"Did you have to fight with him?" Akane shouted up at the
fence top.
Shrugging casually, Ranma's racing pace never broke.
"Didn't slow us down much."
"That's not the point, jerk!"
"Hey, he started it! Besides, I thought you'd appreciate a
chance to see two real martial artists fight."
She started to steam. "What are you trying to imply?"
"All I'm saying is...."
The conclusion to that thought was fortunately interrupted
by their arrival at Furinkan High, and the accompanying
challenge from a certain pompous kendoist.
Ranma never thought he'd be grateful for the chance to fight
Kuno. Not that he was a challenge, but at least he was a
change of pace from the pig-boy.
"Foul sorcerer! Today, I, Tatewaki Kuno, shall visit..."
On second thought, not even variety was worth the speeches.
Ranma leapt for his normal stance atop Kuno's head, only to
collide, face-to-face, with Ryoga. They exchanged blank
looks.
"Ranma? What are you doing in the grocery store?"
He rubbed at his forehead. "It's the high school, Ryoga."
"Oh." The fang-toothed boy looked around. "That explains
why I couldn't find the trail mix. Did you say something?"
"Not me."
Coming to a mutual realization, they looked down under their
feet, where Kuno had finally managed to lift his face clear
of the dirt."
"This hurts, you know."
* * *
"Mr. Saotome! If you can't be bothered to pay attention to
class, perhaps you can be bothered to go get some more chalk
from the supply closet."
"Right." Ranma shuffled over to the cabinet, and then
paused. Warily, he reached out, then threw the door open,
to find himself face to face with chalk. Well, and some
pencils, and paper, and what appeared to be four bottles of
glue, but most importantly, a complete absence of
umbrella-wielding, death-threat-screaming, Jusenkyo-cursed
martial artists.
Unconsciously, his shoulders sagged. After a brief
three-way tussle this morning, he'd left Ryoga running out
the school gates, only to come in and find the lost boy
sitting at Ranma's desk. And when he'd been serving the
bucket duty he'd received for punting Ryoga out the window,
pig-boy had come charging right back down the hallway --
admittedly, to blanch, turn, and run the opposite direction
when confronted with a water-wielding foe. Ranma would have
suspected he was being stalked, except that Ryoga's
direction sense made that blatantly impossible.
He bent down to grab a full box of chalk, and the
spear-hand strike aimed at the back of his head instead
decapitated the jars full of glue.
Incredulous, he jerked his head around to find Ryoga,
frantically trying to scrape his hand clean and only
managing to bind his palms together. "Ranma! This is all
your fault!"
Ranma sighed regretfully as he cracked his knuckles. Bucket
duty was so *boring.*
* * *
Judging by the sun, school was now over, and had been for a
while. So it was all the more important that Ryoga get back
to the Tendo dojo soon, to be able to greet his beloved
Akane. He tapped the nearest passerby on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, sir, but can you tell me the way to the Tendo
dojo?"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than he found himself
pawing at the hand around his throat, holding him off the
ground. Strange, he thought, this doesn't *look* like
Detroit.
"Of *course* I know where the dojo is," Ranma hissed up at
him. "And it's the fifth time today you've asked me. Ya
wanna go to the dojo? Ya got it."
Ryoga wasn't light and Ranma refused to put him down, so it
took a few seconds longer than normal to reach his
destination. He landed lightly in front of Kasumi as she
was hanging out the wash, and wasted no time in getting down
to business.
"Kasumi, Ryoga here wants ta talk ta Akane. Would ya mind
keeping an eye on him until she shows up?"
"Certainly." She bowed. "It's good to see you again,
Ryoga."
"Mmmurphugh."
"Don't let him out of yer sight. At all. Please? It's
really important."
"If you insist, Ranma." She carefully adjusted the last
sheet, and picked up the basket. "Why don't we wait inside
and get you out of the sun, Ryoga? You're awfully red."
"Gleep."
Dumping the gasping boy at her feet, Ranma bolted out of the
compound before anyone had a chance to recover. Taking one
of the routes he normally reserved for shaking fiancees off
his tail, he eventually settled in his favourite park.
Not for long, of course. He'd head back in five minutes or
so, pop into the family room just when Ryoga was about to
dither out his feelings to Akane, and then they'd pound on
each other. For right now, though, he really needed a
break.
Ranma sighed. The last time he'd spent so much time around
pig-boy, he'd had to keep grabbing his collar to keep him
from wandering off to Kyoto or Tsukuba or wherever. Ryoga
had always had a knack for showing up at exactly the wrong
moment, but he'd now managed to turn all times into bad
times. The whole day, he'd been coming out of nowhere,
shouting inane things like....
"Ranma! What have you done with the toilet?"
Stepping down off the jungle gym, Ranma shook his head. At
least he wouldn't have to listen to Akane shout at him all
the way through this fight.
* * *
Luck was obviously smiling on Shampoo for a change. Since
the cakes had failed her miserably yesterday, she was still
relying on finding her husband the old-fashioned way; and
since she had yet to work up the courage to inform Cologne
of the disaster, she was being cut even less slack on her
delivery schedule. Yet, despite all that, there her husband
was, strolling down the fence just as she had hoped.
Judging by his scrapes and bruises, he'd just been in a
fight, too, and should appreciate the affection even more
than usual.
Great-grandmother would understand if she was a little bit
late. She ran the bike up a lamppost, backflipped, and did
a swan dive into the embrace of her husband. "Airen! Long
time no see."
Mmm. Her beloved had clearly been taking his training very
seriously. She burrowed deeper into his rock-hard chest.
"Hey, Shampoo." Her husband sounded... bored.
Eyes still pressed into her husband's shirt, Shampoo
frowned. Excited, she hoped for. Nervous, embarrassed, even
frustrated, she was used to. But bored?
And why was blood dripping into her hair?
She looked up just in time to see Ryoga's eyes roll back
into his head and catch him as he fainted. Not that she
did, of course, but the timing was right.
She gaped at the sprawled figure on the pavement below,
blood pooling around his nostrils, and then stared at Ranma,
who was standing with one foot cocked behind the other and
hands behind his head. "Where he come from?"
Irritation chiseled down her husband's bored facade. "Got
me. The moron usually can't go four steps in one straight
line, and ever since yesterday he's behind me every time I
turn around." He shrugged. "I'd say it was a curse, but
I got no idea how."
Guilt had slowly built up throughout Ranma's speech, and by
now had a fully fortified encampment complete with
anti-denial emplacements in Shampoo's mind. "Shampoo...."
She swallowed. "Shampoo maybe have idea."
* * *
After hearing the story, Cologne got up from the table in
the Nekohanten kitchen and began to pace back and forth.
"I see. If Ryoga had eaten one of the cakes, then
perhaps...."
Ranma tilted his head, pondering. "I don't think he did."
"Of course I did!" Ryoga slugged him. "You tried to use it
to choke me to death!"
Glaring at him, Ranma retorted, "Hey, it's not my fault ya
eat like a pig, pig!"
"Why, you...."
Idly, Cologne hammered both of them with a single swipe.
"Hm. Yes. But why wasn't Shampoo affected?" She stopped
and swung around to regard her great-granddaughter.
"Shampoo, you followed my directions exactly, correct?"
Shampoo nodded. "Yes. Take cakes, deliver to Ranma. Ranma
eat one, Shampoo eat other."
Cologne ratcheted up the wattage on her inscrutable gaze.
"And that's it?"
"Well, Shampoo brush off poppy seeds first."
The inscrutability was ruined by a blink. "What?"
"Shampoo no like poppy seeds."
Ranma's temper, which had slowly building up throughout the
interchange, seized the podium. "Wait a minute! Ya mean ya
fed me another one of your stupid Amazon potions?"
Cologne waved him off irritably. "It's nowhere near as
important as you're making it out to be, son-in-law. This
is a simple magic that many Amazon couples willingly choose
to use. Two paired cakes, and whoever eats the second cake
will be always be able to find the person who ate the first
cake."
Ranma blinked. "Okay. So why didn't it work right on these
two?"
"You weren't listening carefully," she admonished. "I said
this was used by Amazon *couples.* Normally, the magic only
works when the pair are of opposite genders, and you were
female at the time you ate the cake. Now, I planned for
that particular problem, and added an extra spell so that
the magic should have worked regardless of the sex of the
people involved, but Shampoo accidentally undid that."
This necessitated a second blink. "Ya mean the poppy
seeds?"
"Poppy seeds are powerful magic, son-in-law." Her flat gaze
challenged him to disagree. Ranma gulped and kept quiet.
"As for Ryoga, the magic is working perfectly."
Ranma bounced to his feet. "Whaddya mean, 'working
perfectly?' I can't get rid of the moron!"
"Who's a moron?"
"*You*, ya pig!"
She was too tired to hit them again, Cologne decided, so she
raised her voice. "It's very simple, son-in-law. Normally,
the cakes supplement a person's sense of direction, telling
them where to find their partner. This one, however," her
staff shot out to touch the tip of Ryoga's nose, "has no
innate direction sense of his own. That means the magic of
the cakes, rather than being an addition, is now his
*entire* direction sense." She settled herself into a
chair.
Ranma and Ryoga gaped at her together, and it was an open
argument as to which of the two looked paler. "You
mean...."
She nodded. "That's right. Ryoga has gone from never being
able to find anything to always being able to find exactly
one thing: son-in-law. And he'll find son-in-law no matter
*where* he tries to go."
Cologne was severely disconcerted when Ryoga suddenly
appeared on his knees before her, tears streaming down his
cheeks. "Please," he choked, "please tell me there's a
cure."
"Hey, I'm no happier than you are, pig-boy." Ranma scowled.
"There's no real cure, I'm afraid. If you eat the second
cake in a different pair, your current fixation on Ranma
will be replaced with one for the new partner, but that's as
good as it gets. I have one more set you're free to use,
since I think it will be difficult for Shampoo to persuade
son-in-law to partake." She cackled at Ranma's obvious
discomfort. "Just try and leave the poppy seeds on them,
hey?"
Ryoga was oblivious to the last remark. "Akane," he
breathed. With a bound, he snatched up the two cakes
Cologne had indicated, and grinned malevolently at his
rival. "Ranma! I'll have Akane eat this cake, and then
all of your tricks and plots will never keep us apart!"
Laughing hysterically, he bolted from the restaurant.
"Mousse! When you're done with the dishes, get in here and
fix this wall." Cologne cocked an eyebrow at Ranma, who was
still lounging in his seat. "Not rushing off to protect the
Tendo girl, son-in-law?"
Ranma crossed his arms over his chest and settled even more
firmly into the chair. "Feh. As if that clumsy tomboy
needs me to protect her."
Cologne and Ranma eyeballed each other. Unconsciously,
Shampoo held her breath.
Cologne was the first to break the heavy silence. "I see.
It seems I've once again underestimated you, son-in-law."
Smirking, Ranma said smugly, "You should know better, old
bat. Ranma Saotome..."
>From just behind him, "Mousse! When did you start washing
dishes at the Tendos?"
"... never loses."
* * *
Ranma wasn't home yet. Akane got up from her desk, paced to
her closet and back, and abruptly sat down again. Ryoga had
been popping up the whole day, and now it was getting close
to supper, and Ranma wasn't home. Not that she was worried
about that jerk, she hastily added to herself. It was just
that he was probably out teasing Ryoga and giving him the
wrong idea. Which would be a bad thing... for Ryoga.
Right. It would frankly serve that stupid pervert right if
things went too far and the two martial artists wound up
falling in lo....
Akane shot up from her chair and took a few calming breaths.
She was very distressed, for some strange reason. There
must be something in the air. Well, she'd go downstairs and
ask Kasumi to make her a nice cup of tea.
Possibly she'd go for a walk afterwards. Just to calm
herself down. Certainly not to look for a certain
pig-tailed boy.
* * *
"Akane!" Ryoga panted against the door frame for a second.
Putting down her tea, Akane smiled at him. "Yes, Ryoga?"
Blushing, he knelt before her and proffered his offering.
"I've brought you this cake."
"Ryoga, that's so sweet. Thank you." Delicately, she
started to nibble on the cake.
With stupefied anticipation, Ryoga watched as the treat
slowly disappeared. Finally unable to control himself, he
pulled out his own cake and devoured it. With a shudder, he
felt his errant sense of direction finally come into step
with the rest of his soul. For the first time, Ryoga felt
his entire being fixated on his adorable Akane.
"Akane, I have to tell you something." He reached out and
too her hands in his, just as sunlight broke through to
cover them both in a soft, opalescent glow. "Now that
you've eaten that cake, I'll always be able to find you.
"R-ryoga, I...." Her voice faltered as she lowered her
head. When she met his gaze again, there were tears in her
eyes, but she smiled tremulously. "I'm... glad."
"Oh, Akane," he breathed. Reaching out, he put his arm
around her shoulders, and turned her to face out over the
clovered meadows. As rabbits and squirrels began to hum a
romantic theme, he whispered. "We'll always be together,
because I l-lo...."
"You what, pig?"
Pastoral landscapes melted off the back of Ryoga's eyeballs
to reveal a grungy Nerima street, as songs from wildlife
were replaced by insults from arrogant creeps. He glared up
at a grinning Ranma, perched on a mailbox.
"Ready ta give up?"
"Never!"
Ranma clucked. "Ya just don't get it, do ya? The only
thing ya can find is me. So as long as I stay away from
Akane, ya can never give her the cake." He smirked. "So it
ain't gonna happen."
Advancing threateningly, Ryoga rumbled, "Rrrrranmaaa...."
"Ranma? Ryoga? What are you two doing?"
In eerie unison, the two martial artists started.
Unbelievingly, they looked over their shoulders at Akane,
who was brushing her bands out of the way and staring right
back at them.
"I can't believe this," Ranma muttered, and took off across
the rooftops.
Ryoga managed to stand his ground, a snowman in a nuclear
spotlight. "A-akane," he stuttered. His fingers dived
about each other like mating swallows.
Holding her skirt down in the sudden breeze, Akane stepped
closer. "Yes?"
"I... I w-wanted to... to...."
Crash through walls and vanish, apparently.
Akane turned from the highway of tortured masonry to search
for any sign of Ranma on the distant horizon. Her eyes
narrowed. It wasn't at all clear what was going on, but if
Ranma was running away from her, it wasn't any good at all.
And to think she'd been worried about the pervert!
* * *
At the moment, in point of fact, Ranma was actually running
toward Akane. Stupid, stupid, he cursed himself. He'd
left Ryoga and his fiancee together. Not even the pig-boy
could get himself lost that fast. He could only hope that
Ryoga's terminal bashfulness would slow things down long
enough for Ranma to intervene.
Not that he cared if Ryoga got stuck on Akane, of course.
They could marry, for all it mattered to him. It's just
that having the pig-boy around that often would drive him
nuts. Right.
The next jump was fumbled when the wall Ranma had meant to
use as a springboard exploded. Riding the shockwave to
bounce off a nearby tree, he dropped to the ground and
watched as Ryoga switched to pounding his head against a
telephone pole.
Whaddya know, Ranma shrugged to himself. He did get lost
that fast.
He wandered over and companionably slapped his distraught
rival on the back. "No go?"
"Curse my shyness!" Ryoga wailed. Depression was quickly
blindsided by murderous rage. "This is all your fault!"
Ranma backed away. "I didn't do nothing! But I ain't going
to let you do anything either." His cockiness sharpened
into something vicious. "I'll help ya with yer problem --
hell, I want to get rid of ya too! -- but ya ain't feeding
that cake to Akane."
Murderous rage was thrown in a choke-hold by surprise.
"You'll... help me?"
"Sure," Ranma shrugged. "Hafta, right? Ya'll never get
anywhere without me." He turned and peered down the street,
shading his eyes from the setting sun. "'Sides, I guess I'm
just a nice guy."
One large chunk of ex-wall later, he was an unconscious guy,
too.
"For once, you're right, Ranma," Ryoga grunted as he heaved
the martial artist onto his shoulder and stood up. "I do
need you."
"Need him for what?"
Ryoga's head snapped around. He stared at Akane, then
frantically looked at the snoring Ranma sprawled over
Ryoga's pack, and then back at Akane, who had grown markedly
more concerned as the silence dragged on. The last time she
had that look on her face was... when she had walked into
Ryoga's tent when he'd been checking Ranma's breast for the
love-mark.
In a flash of insight rare for him, the wandering boy
realized *exactly* what the situation looked like.
He threw Ranma down and slid backwards so fast that it took
gravity a solid five seconds to catch up with current events
and bring the pig-tailed boy to ground. Throwing his hands
out in frantic protest, he babbled, "NO! Not like that! He
was just going t-to... show me the way to the dojo! Right.
Because I have a present! For you! Not for him! Only for
you! Nothing at all for him!"
Doubt decided to join the party on Akane's face. "But you
were just talking to me. Why didn't you give it to me
then?"
"Uh...."
Akane's feet shuffled, clearly trying to decide if her brain
wanted her to go forwards or backwards. "Why did you run
away?"
"I... thought I saw my mother!" Good one, Ryoga
congratulated himself.
"Oh." That seemed acceptable. "Did you find her?"
"No." Unfortunately, Ryoga's brain was too busy feeling
relieved and proud to notice the stop sign. "It turned out
to be a delivery truck."
Akane's feet stopped shuffling. "A... delivery truck?"
"Yes. My mother has brown hair."
"Right." Akane abandoned pursuit of that line of
questioning. "So why did Ranma run away?"
"Training," Ranma answered from his perch on top of Ryoga's
head.
Akane blinked. When had he gotten up? And more
importantly, what was he talking about? "Training?"
"Yup. Footrace, sort of thing. See how out of shape Ryoga
is. Right?" He directed the question between his feet.
Ryoga, trying to chew his way free of asphalt, didn't bother
to answer.
"Anyways, gotta get back ta it. See ya!" Seizing the lost
boy by the collar, he sped around the corner, Ryoga flapping
behind him.
A gust of breeze stirred the dust, trying to fill the sudden
vacuum left behind, and then gave up. As the sound faded
away, Akane jerked back to life. "You don't get off that
easily," she snarled. "Ranma, get back here!"
* * *
Several neck-breaking turns later, Ryoga managed to hook his
feet against the curb long enough to lever Ranma into a
backwards throw terminating in a nearby garbage can.
"What's the big idea?"
Faster than Kuno jumping to conclusions, Ranma was in his
face, hands around his neck. "Ya stupid pig," he barked,
"I'm doing you a favour!"
Even with his current shortage, Ryoga found the breath to
dispute that. "A favour? How is keeping me from Akane a
favour?"
Tightening his hands, Ranma started shaking the boy's head
to emphasize his point. "Dontcha ever think things through
before ya do 'em? If ya..."
"Ranma!" Akane called.
Both martial artists froze, if for different reasons. This,
in turn, made them sitting ducks for the bucket of water
dumped from the fourth floor window.
Akane skidded around the corner to find her wet and female
fiance throttling her similarly wet pet. "P-chan!" She
snatched the little pig and hugged him tightly, then glared
at Ranma. "How many times do I have to tell you not to pick
on him?"
Pig and girl shook off relief to exchange nasty looks. "He
started it."
"He's just a little animal," Akane scolded. Quickly
scanning the area, she continued in a slightly softer tone.
"What happened to Ryoga?"
"Dunno. Probably got lost." The two cursed martial artist
were still giving each other the hairy eyeball.
"So what's been going on today?"
Ranma furrowed her brow. "Whaddya mean?"
Akane took a deep breath. "I mean he keeps showing up
around you. The two of you are always fighting, but today
seems... worse." She ran down, and stared at her feet. "I
was...."
"Worried?" Ranma smirked.
"Of course not!" she heatedly denied, flustered. Ranma's
arrogant grin wasn't helping. "Why would I worry about a
jerk like you?"
"Jealous, then? I can understand that. You an' Ryoga act
about the same, after all." The sudden round-house flipped
her head over heels.
Akane sniffed as she shifted P-chan back into place. "I
don't know what's been going on today, and I'm not sure I
want to know anymore. I'm going home to clean P-chan up.
Any time you want to stop being a jerk, we can talk."
Ranma drew herself up to her currently less-than-impressive
full height. "As if I'd want ta talk to an uncute tomboy
like you!"
"Fine! Be that way, jerk!" Akane stormed off, with Ryoga
making faces over her shoulder.
"Tomboy! Feh." Ranma slumped from her carefully-assumed
indignation. Moodily, she grabbed Ryoga's pack and headed
for a nearby park. Finding a suitable spot, she scrounged
around in the pig-boy's equipment until she found a kettle
and burner, and efficiently set about boiling water.
Before the water had heated sufficiently, an extraordinarily
confused pig wandered out from behind the closest tree.
After a second's hesitation, he trotted over and squatted
down on the other side of the campfire.
After a long, tense silence, Ranma said, "That was close,
wasn't it." It wasn't exactly a question, and she said it
in an even, non-accusatory tone.
Hesitantly, P-chan nodded.
"That's what it'll be like all the time, ya know." Still no
heat in her voice. "Ya'll never be able to get away from
her. Heck, you were back here with me in less than seven
minutes, and you in her arms and short legs and all."
P-chan fumed, but again nodded reluctantly.
"She eats the cake, and yer gonna change in front of her.
Simple as that. Been lucky so far, but it'll never hold
up." She used a stick to lift the kettle from the fire,
doused herself, and then poured the rest on a pale Ryoga,
who scrambled into his clothes.
"So what am I supposed to do?" Ryoga demanded. "Get stuck
to some stranger and never see Akane again?" His fists
clenched. "I think I'd almost rather stay a pig forever."
Ranma lounged on the grass, all signs of serious demeanour
gone. "It's simple. Ya'd have seen it yerself... if you
were as good as me, o' course. Eat both cakes."
About to launch himself at his rival, Ryoga's knees buckled,
and he slowly let himself down. "What?"
Still lying on his back, Ranma waved his hand vaguely. "Eat
both cakes. They make it so's ya can always find the other
person, right? So if ya eat both," he turned his head and
grinned, "ya'll always be able to find yerself."
"Ranma...." Ryoga's eyes were wide.
Brushing himself off, Ranma got up, then made a dismissive
gesture. "Don't worry about it. Just eat 'em both before
ya burst in on me while I'm pissing again, alright?" He
laughed merrily, and then melted away into the shadows.
Ryoga sat frozen in contemplation for a long time
afterwards. Carefully, as if handling delicate china, he
reached into his pocket, and pulled out the
carefully-wrapped cakes.
His cure.
* * *
"So he's been sitting in the same park for a week now?"
Ranma was preoccupied with trying to shovel another
quarter-bowl of ramen into his mouth, and simply nodded.
Cologne sighed. "Leave it to you, son-in-law, to find the
only path which would make the situation worse. Really, if
your idea would have worked, don't you think I would have
thought of it?"
Swallowing, Ranma muttered, "I still don't see why it
didn't."
Cologne smacked him, though not hard. Her stick was
beginning to crack. "The magic and Ryoga's... difficulty
interact to make Ryoga think that wherever he wants to be is
in the direction of the magic's target. Now that he himself
is the target of the magic, he believes he is already *at*
his destination."
Ranma gulped down the rest of his meal, and absently tossed
his empty bowl across the room and into the tub of dirty
dishes Mousse was carrying. "So how long will he be like
this?"
Cologne hopped back toward the kitchen. "The magic does
fade with time. In another two weeks or so, the effects
should be weak enough for him to fight down down the impulse
to stay in one place. He'll still be as lost as ever,
though."
Ranma snorted as he pushed back his chair. "Well, three
weeks of peace ain't that bad." He turned and received a
chestful of, well, chest. "Eep!"
"Shampoo so happy Amazon magics help Airen!" She smiled
prettily up at him. "Take Shampoo on date to say thank you,
yes?"
Mousse dropped his load of dishes. Ignoring the smash of
crockery, he bounded over a surprised customer to begin
savaging a potted plant. "Saotome! How dare you lay your
hands on my beautiful Shampoo?"
Relative peace, anyways, Ranma amended.
"Stupid Mousse! Ranma can lay whatever he want on Shampoo!"
Mousse screamed incoherently and brought out a nine-foot
spear.
Okay, no peace at all.
* * *
Ryoga waited patiently in the Tendo family room. He hadn't
seen Akane since he had arrived. Or anyone else, really.
Ranma could have mentioned that the family was going on
vacation.
He looked at the tent and campfire that he would have sworn
had never been there in the room before. They must have
redecorated. It was a very odd style, much more outdoorsy
than he would have thought of Kasumi. It certainly did make
the room seem much more spacious.
Briefly, he watched a flight of sparrows flit overhead.
Ryoga sighed, contentedly. It was such a good feeling not
to be lost.
~~~The End~~~
-- Author's Notes --
Well, here we are: Volume 2 in my "Shampoo Misses Ranma and
Bad Things Happen" series. Lest someone accuse me of a lack
of imagination, let me explain.
For some reason, the scene at the opening of the Reversal
Jewel OAV, where Shampoo does a diving glomp onto Ranma, has
always stuck in my mind, and I wanted to write a fic based
on what could have happened if Ranma hadn't been there to
glomp after all. Which led logically to thinking how even
good things usually end up causing trouble for Ranma, which
became "A Fine Day," which is not at all the fic I meant to
write.
So I buckled down, and tried again -- and Ryoga wandered in
and wouldn't leave, and I ended up with this fic, which
still isn't what it was supposed to be. Grr.
At some point, I may try again for the Ranma and Shampoo fic
I've been *aiming* at, but there's a sneaking suspicion that
it was never meant to be. If anybody else wants to try
their hand at a story in this "series," feel free. ;)
Bjorn