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* Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction * Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction * Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction *
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Switch: Herbs and Spices (Part 09 of 12) by Nikholas "Switch" F. Toledo
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Please do remember that Ranma 1/2 is a trademark and a copyright of and
by some big name people and companies I am not even worthy to introduce.
Anybody who says that I took any of their stuff better not find me
hiding. Also, great thanks to whoever reads this and likes it, good
thanks to whoever reads it anyhow, and teeny-weeny thanks to whoever else
even saw this. The seeds of the righteous... never mind. It's Day 3.
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4X4 FWD/RWD
I think I've lost her.
For once, the unfamiliar (some might even say sfumatically,
chiaroscurically, antigothically terrifying, though most people won't)
surroundings did not distress him. To anyone who wasn't Ryoga Hibiki
(even when he wasn't in his own skin, as he was now), that might have
sounded at least comforting. However, the mind of the heir to the Hibiki
School of Martial-Arts... RRrr... Ggg... well, Martial Arts, had only
three states of increasing status: Confusion (also, the common state),
Love-Affection-Protection-Devotion-Obedience-Gallantry (a whole mass of
honorable, altruistic motives) and Distress (a higher plane of confusion
- but one where the senses still function).
Since the environs surrounding him seemed disinclined to breed
familiarity, it meant only one thing: there was a higher distress that
bothered him.
"Where am I now?" he said weakly, mostly out of habit. Of course,
it came out as "bu-bu-bw-buuweee..."
Finally exhausted beyond belief by panicked running and more than
one day's lack of sustenance, P-chan collapsed onto the closest nook
Nature gave him.
In an almost perfectly rectangular district of Tokyo, popular to
many tourists, aliens and all-around weirdoes...
"Sweeto!" Happosai shouted, drowned slightly by the weak rain.
This time, he will prevail. This time, he would conquer all barriers,
and cheat fate. This time, *BONK!*
It was quiet because it was almost three in the morning. It was
also quiet because Happosai had just slammed face-first into a skewed
lamppost. It was exactly the time of day when even perverts weren't
around doing their jobs, or, when they were, God gave them coffee breaks.
Needless to say, the town healed.
It was in these hours when those who were indeed awake (while
fighting unimaginable forces to run amok stealing underwear of the
opposite gender [if possible], to make a public nuisance of one's self,
or transmogrify the entire populace into females) thought of the
prospects of leaving said district for the nearest, but safest, asylum.
Ponder that in the three minutes and forty-nine seconds of bliss.
The darkness receded like a wary predator, or a cautious lover,
eyeing her from a metered distance. The cold hung heavy, burdened with
mildew and sobriety; an even colder wind cut through, biting deep into
her shoulders and the small of her back, jostling the serene drop of her
tresses.
Ukyo opened her eyes.
The ceiling hung there without the apparent support that she knew
was there. The curtains skirted downward, losing the wind's life.
Outside the window, the lamp flickered slightly in the soft tinkling of
the dew-like rain.
Through acute perceptions, the room seemed to hum with a low
murmur. From the window, to the closet, to the door, finally, to the far
corner... nothing.
She waited in the dark, listening to her even, imperceptible
breathing:
in,
out,
and in,
and out,
marking half-seconds with accuracy.
Satisfied, she sighed.
She turned onto her other side, stretching some kinks that the soft
mattress of her bed settled into her. Wrapping her arms onto her chest,
she coaxed the warmth of her pillow into her bodice.
Outside the window, the rain began to thin, silent and undeniably
cold.
Ukyo frowned slightly, and hiked the blanket over her shoulder,
covering the goose bumps on her bare legs. She rubbed her knees
slightly, and held her pillow tighter.
Something squeaked.
Moments more, she had assured herself that, yes, the warm, soft
gusts in her cleavage were, in fact, breaths.
With deliberation, she extracted the intruder.
"... A FRIENDLY KISS?!?"
Grabbing Ranma's pigtail while bending forward fully, Akane threw
her unprepared fianc� halfway past the gaping window, and into the ebbing
rain.
I always was a softie for dumb animals, she thought, considering
the sight of Ryoga in his li'l piggie body (nuzzling her breasts, no
doubt!) and why it wasn't sending her hackles to high heaven. I couldn't
even cook him. A fuzzy yet evil grin traveled to her mouth languidly:
that doesn't mean I'm above kicking him around...
The ninja girl sat up, crossing her legs under the sheets, in no
hurry to grab the spatula just lying flat on the floor to send the petite
porker into some medium-to-high level Earth orbit. She held the piglet
by the forelegs, immediately warning her to a sudden realization: take
away the bandanna, Ryoga was naked.
Well, at least *you* aren't, a voice in her head said.
Having noted that, she made a sincere effort to restrict her
perusal of the inexplicably adorable incarnation of the fanged and
usually noisy lost boy to above the bandanna.
He sagged into himself, snoring.
Nodoka Saotome fell asleep, tears in her eyes, blood on her hands.
She felt silly waiting for something to suddenly happen, so she
wiggled him around a bit.
He slept soundly.
She wiggled him around a little more. Then she walked him a
little, like a puppet. "I am Pigzilla, and I will crush Tokyo into PIG
SLOP! HEAR - ME - SQUEAL!!"
His snoring popped with a snort.
She stopped.
Gosunkugi woke up.
"Happens every time," he muttered. He yawned. "Say, that was
pretty good. I must have slept like a..." He yawned again, rubbing his
hand against his chest. "Yup, that was..." *goosh*.
Gosunkugi opened his shirt, and fainted.
His head lolled from one side to the other.
She giggled. After a self-conscious tic, she set him down in front
of her, and leaned her hands on her knees.
She didn't want to goo-goo eyed over the pigl... it was Ryoga,
dammit! She was supposed to be angry with him.
[Was it him she was angry at?]
He snuggled up to her in bed twice already.
[He kept her company through the last two nights.]
He ran out on her.
[... and got lost (got lost) in the bath.]
He... he shouted at her!
[And she shouted at him.]
He... he's so frustrating!
[He ran his fingers through her hair.]
He confused her. And, yet, she acted with complete confidence.
[His solid eyes wavered, and she thought she saw his sadness.]
He couldn't find his way out of his clothes if he didn't shrink
after every bath - he had been in more places, done more things than she
ever did.
[Was he afraid? He was one of the most thickheaded people she
knew.]
Wandering aimlessly, unsure of the future, uncaring of the past. A
discontinuous existence. Here today, gone tomorrow.
[Would he lose another friend?]
P-chan snored blissfully. She snorted, slightly piqued by the last
of revelation.
She picked up the cursed boy and tickled his chin lightly.
"Hey! Whoa. S-stop..."
Tsubasa, body slick with mixed and mingled sticky fluids, slumped
to the floor, his first break for the span of the night. "God, that was
so tiring. And I thought jamming in a band was... invigorating."
Kodachi lay beside him, her arm across his chest, swirling in and
adding to the lubrication there. "Don't hyperventilate, dear. You must
take slow, steady breaths..."
Tsubasa exerted, complying to Kodachi's command. He tentatively
put his arm around her, making sure to avoid the ponytail. "You were
great."
Kodachi blushed, turning her head slightly skewly. "Really...?"
She smiled shyly, lighting her face in a cherubic manner. "But... it..."
"First time?" Tsubasa filled in, amazed. "I couldn't tell."
"Was... was I good?"
"You were great!" Tsubasa repeated, and kissed her forehead.
"I... I always wanted... to do something like this... but I never
imagined... all that dipping... and pulling out... hands all over my
body... and all that rolling about..."
"I got that from my father."
"You... you saw... your father...?"
Tsubasa hid a little smile. "He had this room, see? Once in a
while, he'd bring some... friends over. They'd spend the whole night,
just... doing this."
"They would...?" Kodachi grinned, a glint in her eye. "There ARE
still about three hours until sunrise..."
Tsubasa moaned. "You can't be serious. We must have done it...
five... ten... twenty... I can't count..."
"Thirty-seven times."
"Once for every room," Tsubasa recalled.
"Except for one, that is..."
"Oh. No."
"Am I dead?"
This brief metaphysical insight was brought on by the fact that
Ryoga couldn't feel a thing. It was like one of those out of body
experiences... except that, in your run-of-the-mill OBE, you'd probably
end up looking at yourself and screaming your head off to wake up, and
then there'd be this light and the angels would come and take you by the
hand and... well, it wasn't like that at all.
He sort of lost his body.
In any case, it didn't seem like any other dream that he had had
before. For one, he was flying.
Ryoga didn't need to fly to get anywhere he wanted to go. He
didn't need to do anything but walk to get to anywhere he ended up in,
anyway. Truth was, he had enough trouble not getting lost when he had
two feet on the ground - how much harder would it be if he had none?
Secondly, he was buck-naked.
This was not a new sensation. Almost half the time since... that
tragic day, he walked around naked. (Not to mention that he was usually
in the company of his most beloved Akane that half... even slept in her
bed with her naked...!) Not to... well, show off or-or nothing, he did
his best to get out of... nasty situations.
What he was was floating... hanging with his arms spanned,
completely naked, flying through the void. In the horizon, sharp metal
spires shone under a pockmarked, weathered moon. The stars did not
twinkle, a decidedly unfriendly thing for them to do.
He started swooping down and up, motions that would have made him
throw up, had he anything to throw up: he just make screaming motions,
but he had no mouth. He spiraled upward, head on with the ever-growing
moon.
It was an okonomiyaki moon... the sauce dribbled down, into the
ocean, ridiculously large chunks of shrimp and green vegetables floating
with just 10% above the surface. The stars did not shrink, no... in
fact, they grew, and he saw that they weren't stars at all... they were
spatulas, streaking forward with throwing speed.
The batter stayed there, like pie on the face of the sky and a face
drawn in okonomiyaki sauce laughed at him. Giggled.
He smacked right into it, head first.
In the Tendo anything-goes dojo grounds, one figure stumbled to
wakefulness. In the interests of those within the house, he (along with
two others not present, despite his checking in their room) had already
promised to not go about bashing heads in before sunrise. He took his
bath, suited up, and left for the dojo proper in a matter of half an
hour.
Today, Soun stepped along the walkway to the dojo.
A deep, deliriously throaty moan echoed from within the training
hall.
To anyone at about four in the morning, and especially to the
sometimes chicken father of the Tendo clan, a deliriously throaty moan
coming from the innards of your own dojo would have probably meant only
one thing:
"Ka-Ka-Kaaaasuummmii..." He ran back as fast as his legs could
take him.
P-chan kicked furiously at the air.
Ukyo smiled broadly, thinking that Ryoga was reacting to her
ministrations, so she redoubled her efforts.
The efforts seemed to have their effect: in addition to the
spasmodic leg actions, he opened his mouth, as though to laugh. She had
a look at the touted incisors; she had to admit, she hadn't seen any
better than those.
That was when he started making dry choking sounds.
Kuno spat out dirt.
He sat up, and peeked into the now cold ramen. "Nary a drop spilt,
nary a drop wasted." He stood, balking at the thinning night. "I will
have you, Akane Tendo, my love!" He proceeded to escape the premises.
Because the night did not like getting balked at, Kuno mistook the
garbage can for a helpful Sasuke, and further delayed his impending
success, at least for another hour.
Sasuke, on the other hand, had landed exactly onto his bed in the
Kuno residence.
"Bed" was too strong a term for it. It was a straw mat, with a
thick blanket. It was even in the crawlspace under the receiving room.
Nonetheless, he still landed right onto it.
He woke up, stretching. For once, he was not hampered by the low
ceiling, as he himself had recently added the hole. He yawned,
scratched, then opened his eyes.
He saw red.
And blue.
And green.
And several shades of mother-of-pearl, blending rather well into
the lavender.
"What's going on here?"
"Speak to me!" She shook her head wildly, willing herself to speak
straight, think straight, feel straight, don't panic, clear mind, breathe
in, heat the grill... "WHAT'S WRONG!?"
P-chan lay on his back, limbs flailing wildly, head back, mouth
agape. The choking, wheezing sounds were still there, but his eyes were
squinched shut. Ukyo felt her own chest beginning to constrict. Tears
started to flow.
"DAMN YOU, RYOGA HIBIKI, DON'T YOU *DARE* DIE ON ME!"
Ukyo slapped the porker across the snout. The pig flew to the
side, clear off the bed. She heard the wall make contact.
Ryoga mercifully slid along his nose to the floor.
Shampoo groggily stood on all fours, leaning on the wall. Through
the dojo window, she could hear and actually feel the electricity.
What the hell was all that? Akane was... Ranma was... they were
naked!? It, it must be that Akane's fault! She couldn't do the
honorable thing, she had to besmirch Ranma's reputation! You never made
kissy-kissy with your father's houseguest! HE'S MY HUSBAND, YOU HUSSY!
Maybe when my head stops hurting...
"SHIT!"
The lights flared open. Ukyo heedlessly leapt across the room,
blindly hoping that it wasn't even half as bad as she thought it was.
"My God... Ryoga!" She barely stopped herself from slamming into
the wall. "Ryoga!"
P-chan sat there, motionless, sprawled on his haunches...
"I'm sorry! It's all my fault!" Ukyo buried her face into P-
chan's stomach, not even caring that her hiccups were loud enough to wake
the dead. "I shouldn't," *hic*, "have gotten," *hic*, "jealous of
Akane... or," *hic*, "Nabiki... but, you didn't have to," *hic*, "watch
over...," *hic*, "you didn't have to protect them...," *hic*, "it's
just... there's no one to watch over me..."
"Please, Father. I'm sure that the ghost is as scared of you as
you are of it."
Nabiki yawned, and stretched the kinks out of her peejays. "I
don't see why I have to be dragged into this ghost hunt." Still, she
checked the camcorder's battery.
Kasumi gave Nabiki the barbell while whispering, "Akane wasn't in
her room..."
"And?"
"Neither Ranma nor Mr. Saotome were in the guestroom..."
"And...?" Nabiki trailed off, putting one and one together.
"Oh... why the barbells, then?"
"Just in case," Kasumi replied.
"Just in case" was exactly how Dr. Tofu felt.
Sure, it might not have made sense to anyone else that he wasted
his life in a quiet (feh) little district, practicing his already
mastered martial arts skills, wishing he was somewhere else (to him, that
was merely six blocks down and four blocks to the left)...
He wasn't that old yet: life begins at thirty, they say.
Sure, his lifestyle was not glamorous, his researches merely low-
budgeted, hobbyist efforts. He wasn't living the "Ryu" lifestyle either;
he had his daily regimen to compensate for the rigors of wander.
Was it Buddha who said, all things in moderation? Was it father
who died, speaking most clearly of the follies of an extreme life? Was
it mother who fed him, the carbohydrates and proteins of health, wealth
and wisdom in one plate, the moral fiber and the blood of the service and
dedication in the other?
Was it Kasumi, who said, with complete sincerity... who said...?
"What did she say?"
Ryoga opened his eyes.
Through the hazy, bright blur, he felt and heard but did not see
the sadness, only the tears, and the longing, and the... OHmyGOD, it's
UKYO! She wickedly kept him pinned to his back with her eyes set in her
head, and with the weight her words seemed to carry.
He "bwee"d sympathetically, pathetically. Please don't eat me.
Silence. "R-R-Ryoga...?" She looked up to see him looking at her.
"Ryoga! You're alive!"
"You woke me up to tell me I'm alive?" he would have said. His
snorts sounded distant, even to him.
"RYOGA!" Ukyo stood, picking him up, hugging him close.
"Oh... oh... Kasumi... you're so bold..."
Nabiki's right eyebrow crawled up.
"Did you call me, Nabiki?"
Soun's hair flew back and up, and it only meant that things would
not get better, unless...
"Uh, sure, Kasumi..."
Kasumi considered for a moment. "Well, I guess my nightgown IS a
bit too revealing..."
They drudged on past the guestroom.
Mousse rolled onto his side, clutching the pillow. "Hee, hee... I
really don't know what you have in that jar, Kasumi..."
Tofu resealed the jar, satisfied that not even one pinch had
disappeared.
Twice this week. The book on proper herbal gift giving had
returned, now a volume of the "Flora, Fauna and What-not" encyclopedia,
the thirteenth, in fact, had zeroed out into null space.
He hadn't thought about it before, but now he was sure: something,
or someone, was going on, and things were soon coming to an head.
Shifting gears, he backtracked to the titles that the thief,
mastermind, whatever, borrowed, hoping to find the thread that led back
to the source.
The moans increased in intensity.
"Do-don't go in..."
"Please, Daddy." Handing Kasumi the camcorder, Nabiki hefted the
10-lb with her right arm, cued a count up to three, then...
"Go!" Nabiki slid the door.
They stared.
Kasumi put a hand over the lens of the camera, then slowly turned
it off.
The lights in Ukyo's bedroom went out.
"C'mon, Ryoga... let's get some sleep, shall we."
He was already way ahead of her: the pig snored, his breath steady
on her chest.
She sat on the edge of the bed, breathing in the sunrise. For
once, P-chan did not seem to be the enemy, the pervert, the suitor, or
the guardian. He was just a pet, someone to shower affection to.
Motherly affection? An outlet? Maybe just something... someone to hug.
Strange... when he's a pig, his telltale bandanna actually becomes
a scarf... well, from a headband to a scarf, in that case...
"Ukyo..."
She patted her forehead, already beading with sweat. "Yes, Dad?"
"What did I tell you about what you wear when cooking?"
Ukyo stood up and jumped from off the grill. "The wraparound, the
black cotton pants, the spatula bandoleer. Isn't that all, Dad?"
"But are you wearing... underwear?" Ukyo's father moved in to
tickle her...
"Stop it! Stop it!" It was hard to breathe and laugh at the same
time. "Uncle!"
He stopped, "uncle." He held a hand out.
Ukyo helped herself up with it. When she was on her feet, he
playfully ruffled her hair with that hand. With his other hand, the
yattai owner wrapped a white cloth around the child's forehead.
"Hey...! Aww, Dad..."
"C'mon, Tiger." Mr. Kuonji took her by the waist and sat her on
the edge of the grill, where she knelt just moments ago. "Why don't you
want to wear a headband?"
"'Coz it's so hot!" She squirmed slightly.
"Do you know *why* you have to wear one?"
Ukyo stopped at that. There was a reason? Hmm... "So I wouldn't
get hit with oil spattering?"
"No... you would have been better off with one of those kabuki
masks."
"To keep my sweat from the batter?"
"No... sweat is one of the ingredients of good cooking."
She shook her head. "Why, then?"
She wouldn't easily forget her father's words as they crossed the
years. "Well, Tiger. A headband keeps your hair from covering your
eyes."
... wisely keeping his head from covering his heart.
The epiphany washed over her, and, that morning, she realized that
since the time she came to Nerima, her blood started running cold.
She had been growing her head too long.
How many times had she felt like packing up, giving up, and soothed
herself by saying, "is this it? All that time and effort for nothing?"
How many times did she ask for reasons when she could have asked
for feelings?
How many times did she wake up looking for love and finding... a
pig?
Setting her charge on a pillow, she took her battle spatula... and
began to unravel a relic from a happier past.
When she was finished, the yellow ribbon rolled along her arm in a
sudden gust of wind. Carefully, she wrapped the cloth once, twice,
finally knotting it.
The makeshift bow-tie gripped her throat lightly; she swore that
there was still time, still time to listen to the slow, calm beatings of
her heart.
Time's up.
Soun nodded gravely, then clapped his hands on Ranma's shoulders.
Since Ranma was still in cat-fu, he immediately hissed and jumped back
into Akane's lap. The latter bowed her head, partly to calm the
frightened Ranma, partly to obscure her complete nakedness, partly to
avoid her sisters' or her father's eyes, partly to cover her own
emotions.
"Well, then," he said after regaining composure, the bounciness of
his hair and facial coloration, "Akane, Ranma... for the sake of the
Anything-Goes School of Martial-Arts... for the honor of my family and
yours... you must be wed."
Kasumi put a hand to her mouth. "Oh my."
Akane raised her head and rushed her father. "I'm so happy!"
Seventeen Myths and Legends
Kasumi slowly went over to Akane's side. "Are you sure you're
okay?"
With tiny eyes set in the space of a hopeful, eager, lonely face,
Akane wordlessly nodded.
A hearty, heartfelt hug by the elder sister conducted her own
thoughts, and when they broke contact, Akane's tears rolled down slowly,
silently. The young Tendo bit her lip just to show Kasumi-neechan that
she, too, would learn to live through change.
Nabiki sat, eyes outward, towards the outside of the large room.
Kasumi sat down next to her, and she whispered, under her breath, "I
think he's worried about the money."
"Oh" was all Kasumi said. Father never talked about money. But
there he was, eyeing a tightly-rolled wad of paper.
Kasumi followed Nabiki as she stood and crossed the floor to the
back door of the dojo, silently with her eyes. The younger girl soon
returned with a wooden parcel. Kasumi almost gasped in recognizant and
sudden horror.
"B-but, Nabiki!" she said with alarm.
Nabiki shook her head sharply, long, thin plaits accenting the
action. The glance said that she knew what she was doing, while the look
asked that Kasumi accede the gesture.
Kasumi knew that Nabiki was never one for frivolous action. She
nodded slowly, and followed Nabiki to the door, which the latter closed
to a crack.
Nabiki sat perpendicular to her father, nestling the box in her
lap. Soun had quickly kept the wad, eyes averted and moist.
"Daddy," Kasumi heard the middle Tendo say, "let's play shogi."
"Let's play shogi," she repeated, not quite rolling it around the
tongue, but not quite sure what it meant. She was sure that it did not
mean that the man - the boy - before her wanted to play shogi.
"Yeah." He looked nervous, trying to casually run a hand through
his scalp. She had a brief flash of insight, imagining him with a bald
pate. After realizing that it would probably give him the effect of
looking more manly, more masculine... more serious, she decided to add
flowers growing out of nooks and crannies. She giggled in response,
inwardly, of course.
"What's so funny?"
She covered her mouth. "I was wondering if you called for me just
to ask if we could play shogi."
It looked as though he hadn't caught her drift when he replied, "O-
of course, Nodoka... wh-what else - ?"
Nodoka actually had to still his lips with hers. He melted in her
arms in a gesture they had to make full use of the wide-sleeved kimonos
her parents always wanted her to wear. They were so queer in their old-
fashioned nature - if they saw her kissing him, they would probably be
halfway to the shrine. That, or they'd be chasing him out of Japan.
"Oh." He took a second more to recover, half from shock, half from
disappointment - the kiss had so much room for company. "So... they're
not home..."
She shook her head in agreement. "What did you REALLY want us to
do, then, hmm?"
Continue that kiss, something inside him said. He cleared his
throat, immediately discarding the saliva for that statement. "A-
actually..." He recomposed himself, taking her smaller hands in his.
"Actually, I just wanted this time alone with you."
She knew that tone of voice her had. The wistful lilt, one he
never used unless... "Happo-"
"Don't." He nodded, understanding.
She sighed. "You know... you're going to have to make a choice
sometime soon."
He nodded again, and started to realize that he actually needed to
elaborate more than just simple assent. "Actually... we're already sick
of the little lecher. He's just too good, and he's got that fire burst.
Who knows, one of these days, we might just tie him up and leave him in a
cave somewhere..."
She frowned, ever so slightly. "You know that's not what I mean."
He scratched his nape, and tried to cover his cover-up with an
expression of utter incomprehension. It didn't work. "I... I know,
Nodoka..."
They left it at that.
"... just leave it like that, okay?"
"Okay, Doctor..."
The doorbell rang.
Tofu tried to stop smiling like a damned fool, and wiped his
glasses clear of the fogginess. Quickly turning from his patient, he
went to see who was at the door.
"Hello there... why, it's you, Mr. Tendo!"
"Hello, Dr. Tofu... where's K-?"
"Father!" Kasumi ran out of the clinic clean into her father's
waiting arms.
Tofu marveled at her carefree energy. "Easy, easy... don't use
that foot too much, now."
"Yes, Doctor," she apologized. She was much too happy to see her
father. To Soun, he requested, "please, at least for a day or two."
He nodded, and brought his eldest in his arms. He would have given
her a piggyback ride, except that she was still in that yellow leotard.
"Better not let your mother see that, y'know..."
Tofu sighed. He knew what this feeling was, he just didn't know
where it would lead...
Kasumi knew that it would lead to this. It didn't mean she had to
like it.
Of course, she didn't mind the fact that finally, finally, Akane
and Ranma had reached the agreement that she knew would have come out of
it. Of course, she didn't expect it this morning, in the dojo, with both
of them in a high degree of nudity.
With a quick compromise, she quickly summarized the feelings she
had on the matter: "oh my." She moved to Akane's position and coaxed
Ranma-chan-cat off of his favored position. Nabiki pulled a towel onto
Akane, which the latter wrapped around herself with some difficulty.
Soun was already in a world of his own, busying himself with
something behind the stage.
Ranma mewed quizzically, as though just realizing that his bride
was away. Kasumi stared at him and softly but no-nonsensically scolded
him: "You've been a bad boy, Ranma."
"Mew?" Ranma asked, then groomed his red mane back slightly.
"Oh, I don't want to know where that tongue of yours has been,
you." She had the ghost of a frown. "You're not planning to leave my
sister, are you?"
"Mew?" Ranma knew that this nice lady was not Akane, but was
tolerable... at least she reminded him of food. He smelled around her
hands to find if she had brought any.
"I hope you mean that," she murmured. With that, she picked up
Ranma under his arms, and went back into the house.
Under the light of the rising sun, Tatewaki Kuno finally made his
way through the streets of Nerima to the Kuno Estate. "Hehheehhheeh...
at last, the immovable gates of my family's towering mansion." He took a
look at the instant ramen cup in his hand. "At last... I, Tatewaki Kuno,
can secure the long and prosperous future of dating the beauteous Akane
Tendo... ah-hah... eh-heh... BWAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-!!"
Because the immovable gates of the Kuno Estate were, indeed, not
immovable, the proud sign which bore the even prouder family name of the
Kuno clan proudly knocked the all-too proud skein of the Kunos out cold.
She looked as knocked out as they come. The foreigner looked kind
of distraught, thoughts of lawsuits and really large bills for
translators shaking him silly. The bokken looked none worse for the
wear, considering that it was made of rather durable wood, and it had
come into mortal contact with a less durable human head.
"I didn't see her! Tell me she's all right! TELL ME SHE'S ALL
RIGHT!" He turned to his companion and pulled the other man's collar.
"TELL ME!"
THAT tells ME, the other man thought, to steer clear of loopy
martial artists. He would've shook his head if it wasn't being shaken by
the loopy martial artist in question. At least... what's this...?
The men stopped as the woman groaned, a sure sign of life, as well
as a sure sign of not-knowing-what's-going-on. "Well," the first one
said, "Iguesseverything'sallright,sorryaboutthebumpg'bye!" - he really
did hate bills.
Let the Guide go, turn, run aw- "Wo ai ni..."
"Wha-?"
*kiss*
The woman ended up back on the ground, this time cushioned by the
confused mass of the foreigner. The pudgy Jusenkyo Guide merely shook
his head ruefully... "aww... very tragic story, of man who beat Amazon
with bokken on head, just two minute ago. Whoever outsider man beat
womans of Amazon tribe, must marry her." He grinned lopsidedly, "very
tragic story."
"But it's true, I tell you!"
"You must be batsy. First, you see that alligator in the river,
now you're telling me there's this mob of girls prowling town looking for
some guy and it isn't Ranma Saotome?"
"Sure shootin'. Someone named 'Sasquatch' or somethin'."
"You must be drunk agin."
"Hell, no! I'm as sober as your twin... or his twin... or..."
"Mousse!"
"M-M-Mo-Mother!" That was strange. What was Mother doing in the
room where he and Kasumi were? He vanished the jar Kasumi brought, while
Kasumi herself seemed to have disappeared.
Apparently, she was baking a cake. She was wearing a 'piyo piyo'
apron, but wasn't Kasumi going to use that? "Mousse, call your twin
brother so that we can start the party."
Oh God. The party. When was the last time he saw his brother? Or
worse yet, his sister? S'been ages since...
"Mom?" A decidedly male voice came in.
"Mother?" Another voice, female.
"Where have you two been, we've been looking around for so long!
Quickly, the candles will burn into the cake if you don't blow..."
Mousse turned, almost the same time as his twin...
"Yo." Ryoga blew the candle flame into his face. And to his side
was their little sister, Kasumi.
She rummaged through her locker for something he could wear.
"Ranma... you're a bit smaller than Akane..." She pulled out a green
leotard. "I think this one will fit you better."
"I ain't wearin' no leotard, okay?" Ranma fumed in his still-damp
Chinese shirt.
The eldest Tendo girl kept her calm tone. "It wouldn't look good
if you didn't wear anything to the fight with Kodachi, right, Ryoga?"
Ryoga looked up, surprised. "Uh, right..." He took the leotard,
Ranma, and opened the door, shoved the former two out, and closed the
door, shouting, "Ten minutes, in the dojo, Ranma!"
For a moment, their eyes locked, and Kasumi felt her breathing
synchronize with Ryoga's, as the latter slowed his own heartbeat.
"Ryoga..."
"Wh-what is it?"
Kasumi seemed contrite. "I'm sorry for the other night."
"What?" Now what was this - oh. "It's okay, honest. I'm sorry
that I came barging in so late at night." Even if it was to wring
Ranma's neck. Wait. Something was bugging him earlier... what was it?
Oh, yeah... "Kasumi, could I ask you something?"
Kasumi turned from the closet, which she had just closed. "What
about?"
"You... you do rhythmic gymnastics?"
She shook her head. "I used to, and not the martial-arts type.
I'm afraid that I couldn't teach Ranma or Akane anything of use."
"I-it's okay." Ryoga was still coiled, tense. "Is... is the Tendo
School of Martial-Arts training Rhythmic Gymnastics?"
"No. It's Anything-Goes... why do you ask?"
Ryoga sagged, relieved. Later on, he realized that Kasumi was too
dangerous to be around: given any extended duration of proximity, one
was too inclined to divulge deep, dark secrets to the gentle homemaker.
At that point, anyway, he said, "it's just that I'm trying to avoid
contact with any girl trained in Martial-Arts Rhythmic Gym... my parents
- well, my mom, anyway - well, sort of... forces me to fight any heir of
a Rhythmic Gymnastics dojo."
Kasumi puzzled over the idea. "Why would your mother force
you...?" The question died as the reason, the only true logically
twisted reason shone.
Ryoga nodded. "Meet Ryoga Hibiki, heir to the Hibiki School of
Martial-Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics."
"Rhythmic gymnastics, you say?" Tsubasa admired the sleek
musculature before him.
Make that above him. Kodachi was gripping the wooden framework of
the ceiling, giving Tsubasa an interesting perspective of her backside.
She turned her head, and winked, "'come into my parlor,' said the spider
to the fly."
Very, very, very carefully, Tsubasa stood on top of and quite close
to the edge of the king-sized bed just beneath the Black Rose. "What
fly?"
Kodachi edged on to hover near the center of the bed. "Oh...
that's right. You're not wearing a fly..."
The drummer complied, treading to center. "I don't see a thread of
silk on you, either..."
Kodachi make several quick hand motions, the outcome of which was
her eventual fall, landing squarely into Tsubasa's arms. The latter
barely had time to compensate the weight, and the bed lacked the firma in
the terra underfoot, though it did break their fall softly.
So it was at that, Tsubasa embracing the gymnast perpendicularly.
Kodachi was able to take full advantage of her companion's slight yet
well-toned musculature. Leaning into the cusp of his shoulder, she could
smell the faint bittersweet musk mingled with her own calling out, all
edging over the base smell of acrylic resins. She nuzzled his arms with
her back and her playfully squirming legs, all to lather him, to find his
weak spots, but she couldn't find any.
He, on the other hand, merely relaxed his back, ever so slightly.
He had crumpled forward to ease the fall, and tilted his precious cargo
toward him. Now that he was flat on his back, he felt her body ground
into his, lightly, fragrantly, as though she break into a million pink
rose petals. The flowing tresses, the pert roundness, the softness of
her end, and the silken continuity of her... he was in ecstacy.
It was perfect.
Choosing his words, he shifted upward and to his left, ever so
softly laying her head on the soft cushion, tilting his head even closer
to hers and asked her then, "we... should've brought drop cloths, no?"
Her eyes twinkled amusement at his concern. "Oh, I'm sure brother
dear would appreciate our redecorating his bland-colored sheets... but,
there's still the inside..."
And with that, Kodachi pulled the paint-leadened sheet around them
with one quick tug.
"Yow! STOP!"
Nabiki didn't need a watch to know that it was way too early in the
morning to be having this. She shoved the betoweled Akane into the
kitchen, approximately into a chair.
"HEY! What is WRONG with you, Na-!"
"SHUT UP!"
Nabiki was shaking with clear anger, made obvious by the slow
frequency that sleep had instilled inertia into her body. She made one
step to her sister, grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her, now face
to face with Akane, hoping to be more effective that way. "Wake UP!"
"Wh-what?" Akane was growing concerned. One side of the towel top
had gone lower than her chest, while the other hung bravely.
"WAKE UP!" Nabiki seemed to lose intensity at that point. "Wake
UP! Wake up! Wake up... wake up..." Her head bowed, Nabiki badly
needed Akane's support.
"But I'm already awake, big sister..." Akane's voice matched
Nabiki's energy level.
The latter shook her head. "No. No, you're not." She tilted her
head slightly, meeting the Tendo heir's eyes with her own, upcast.
"You're having a dream."
"A-A... dream."
With a light push, Nabiki pulled herself to her full height. "Yes,
a dream. A dizzying, erotic, neurotic, dark, drug-addled dream." Barely
fumbling with her pocket, the brown-haired girl pulled out an aged spice
container.
Not knowing why, Akane took the shaker. "The dreaded passion
spice," Nabiki intoned, then grinned lopsidedly. "Most deadly of
condiments."
"Yeah, it says so here," Akane noted, pointing at the label.
"Don't you get it yet?" Nabiki sounded faintly annoyed. "They way
Ranma seems perfect, says the things that makes you tingle, smells like
the way a comfortable bed would,... feels... like the only one you'll
ever... is because of this." She shook Akane's hand, making sure that
neither would accidentally whiff the fine grains.
Nabiki had to dive for the container as Akane suddenly let go of
it. The latter fell back into the seat, clutching her shoulders tightly,
hugging herself wordlessly.
"It's not over yet, Akane." Nabiki's voice seemed dark without
inflection. "No... no REAL damage done. We'll just tell Dad - "
"Yes," Akane interrupted. She tilted her head up to look at her
older sister's face. "I understand, Nabiki." She smiled slightly.
"He... he didn't... he didn't say that he l..." She shook her head.
"I'm sure... with time... he'll learn to l-love..."
"NO!" Nabiki's eyes flashed with a dread. "Akane! YOU'RE the one
who's drugged!"
"I know that."
Akane watched her sister flounder with the flat-out statement. She
settled to leave out most of her anger and let her confusion take
precedence.
"You knew?"
Akane smiled, somewhat goofily, then nodded. "I still know what
I'm doing, Nabiki. I just feel more of it, I guess."
That knocked the fight right out of Nabiki, who slumped into the
seat opposite Akane's. "So, you still want to get married to that...
that lout? That insensitive jerk?"
"Yeah," the younger said, "we still have some... unfinished
business."
He dizzily woke to the smell of freshly-cooked food.
"Good morning, P-chan!"
That sure woke him up: the conflicting signals of Akane and
cooking flashed to completely stifle his endomorphine intake, and an
urgent ringing in his ears better than any alarm clock.
Unfortunately, his body did nothing of the sort to aid him in
escaping utter and certain gastric malcontent. Moreover, the strong
smell of hot things-pretending-to-be-cooking drew even nearer. The only
thing he could do was roll in the sheets, which were swimming up and
around him in life that he himself gave it.
"Oh... playing hide and seek, are we?" The hands started holding
the ends of the sheet, stopping the flowing that seemed to be causing him
seasickness, anyway.
"Okay," Ukyo almost chirped, "you're it." She reached her arms in,
a slight distance from where the little pig was hunched, wide-eyed.
Ryoga looked at her quizzically. With an effort, he leapt into her
waiting grasp.
"Good boy," Ukyo smiled, rubbing him on top of the head. "You
hungry? Of course you are..." She gingerly cupped the smaller form in
her two hands and forearms, and gently descended.
Nabiki met Kasumi at the base of the stairs.
"How are they?" the younger asked.
"They're sleeping fine," Kasumi noticed, absently wiping at the hem
of her skirt, catching it at the last step down. "In different rooms,
that is."
"I wouldn't have guessed. Want a snack?"
Kasumi sighed. "I really don't know, Nabiki. I really should be
sleeping, too..."
"Don't worry, sis. I already cooked us up something." With that,
Nabiki pulled her through into the kitchen.
"Cream of mushroom soup?" Kasumi could tell from the distinct
smell that wafted over from the pot.
"It's instant," Nabiki lied, reaching for two bowls, "a little
something to pass us into breakfast."
Despite her (small, non-violent) protestations, Kasumi sat, waiting
to be served. Nabiki soon returned, distributing the meal. The middle
Tendo waited until the elder sibling had had a taste.
"It's kind of different without eggs... but it's still good,
Nabiki."
Nabiki hoped that her calculations had been right, and nodded. She
absently pushed her own bowl forward, and leaned on her forearms.
"Kasumi..."
"... hmm?" She took another mushroom piece, and nibbled on it.
"Since... since Akane's getting married, do you think you'd want to
go to college with me?"
Kasumi put down the near-empty bowl, and paused to think. "... I'm
sure that Akane would still need some training in some of the household
chores."
Nabiki nodded slightly. "That's why we go together. I figure a
year or so should be enough, ne?"
Kasumi almost acceded the point. Her sister had a familiar gleam
in her eye. When had she seen it before? "I'm not sure. Do we have the
money for it? And I still haven't gone to high school." She paused to
sip some water.
"Of course, we have money. And you could just go to a prep school
for a year, then take the exams." Nabiki smiled. "And I don't think you
should worry about your age."
"Oh..." Kasumi put a hand to her head. "Nabiki, I think I'm
more... sleepy... than I thought..." Too late, she realized that
Nabiki's gleam was one of waiting, the one she had on Mother's funeral,
when she was playing shogi with Father. One for distraction.
Nabiki took the bowls, and glanced back at her unconscious sister.
The changes have come full circle, sister. It's time for you to
rediscover yourself.
It'll be good for you.
"It's good?"
Ryoga was beginning to wonder for Ukyo's sanity. Yesterday, she
was all daggers and heat. Today, as the sun kissed the morning awake,
she was a little too chipper, and way, way too nice.
Like you've always wanted her to be, something in the middle of his
head said. He wondered obliquely who it meant when it said "her".
"C'mon, P-chan... say 'aaaahhh...'" Ukyo fed him the last piece of
the fifth okonomiyaki. "That's a good boy..." She took the plates and
took them to the sink in the kitchen extension of the room.
Ukyo was whistling a nameless tune over the hum of warm water,
ceramic plates and soapwater. She noticed that P-chan was wandering
aimlessly, looking for a way to get to the sink.
"Not too fast, you." She picked up the midget porker, and headed
back to the bed. "It's too early to get lost again."
As they crossed the floor to the bed, Ryoga noticed the clothes he
had left yesterday evening, draped over the couch, and squirmed noisily
in that direction.
Ukyo didn't need to look over her shoulder. "I know, I know..."
Her voice was soft, and unmistakably different.
Ryoga felt himself settled onto the cushions, and looked at Ukyo
seat herself on the other side of the foot of the bed. She sat, not
looking at him, rather, looking at the floor in front of him, hands to
her sides, not quite sure what to do with them.
Ryoga noticed, for the first time, the bow-tie. It was a yellow
ribbon, and looked a little time-worn. Had Ukyo been wearing one before?
He was not sure, but it seemed to be a new fashion statement. It
accentuated her long, graceful neck.
[And it looked like it was ripped at one end, as though it was
looking for a soulmate.]
"Ryoga..." Ukyo began, "can we... can you be... my pet?"
"Dinner, my pet?"
He cringed at that. Nodoka only called him that when she wanted
him to do EXACTLY as she wanted him to do. The lure of a home-cooked
meal seemed too tempting to pass up at any point, but...
"I made your favorite..." she crooned.
What WAS the reason why he didn't just give in to the lady's
demands, anyway? No, the other parts of his mind reacted, the parts he
immediately labeled as "devious and cunning". One must always keep
appearances.
"Nodoka," he said, suddenly serious.
He liked the way that Nodoka stiffened under that calm, unaffected
exterior. She cared enough to do that. Hell, she cared enough to get
her own house, to get away from her parent's tyrannical clutches, to be
an independent, modern woman.
No, he just liked the way it made her breasts jut out, and the
supple symmetry of her spine wreaked sheer havoc on his hormones.
"Nodoka," he repeated, "I saw her today."
Exquisite, delectable silence.
"So... why are you here now?"
Touch�. "I-I-" Feigning nervousness never worked for him - he was
just worried that she was going to slice off his ears later. "-I...
wanted... to tell you... myself..." He trailed off, trying to see her
from periphery, because he couldn't look her in any way resembling the
straight-forward manner.
She herself was obliquely turned away. "How about the daikon?"
"Yes, the squid. That, too." Taking away the last strands of
self-control he could muster, he stole into the adjoining dining room,
admiring the romantic design of the two-seated table only for a moment,
snatching three rings decoratively positioned in the appetizer plate.
He stepped back into sight, leaning on the doorway, loudly
crunching on the first of the trio of edible circles. "Mmm... the
squid's getting cold..."
"It can wait..." she whispered slightly, cringing with the
tormenting dental exercise.
"It could wait," he corrected, attacking the second ring with twice
the fury. "'til the ring."
With that, the third went down the gullet. Then he did the face.
It looked like he was choking, with his eyes of different sizes.
Slowly, stuck his tongue out -
A gold band was on the end of it.
"I've eaten your rings," Genma intoned, "will you wear mine?"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Detach here)
Give credit where credit is due: the idea of Ryoga being the heir
to a Martial-Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics dojo is mostly the Scriviner's
fault (for a refreshing change of pace), a talk with Matthew Campbell
made me think of the Nabiki/Akane conversation. Note Ukyo's hiccups when
stressed, a point put in "Park Life", which was sadly unremembered in the
original posting of "4X4", with Ryoga.
This has got to be the longest dalliance in the series which was
not caused by the writing of yet another fanfic. Does this mark the end
of this series as we know it? Well, duh. It's undergone several changes
already. Who knows what would happen to the execution of the next five
chapters and the epilogue? And whether or not it will, in fact, be
written before the turn of the millennium. [It wasn't.]
Yes, and after this chapter, NO MORE FLASHBACKS! Realtime only.
[Actually, no. I lied about that, too, apparently.]
For those who were expecting this, here it is:
Akane: last seen by Kasumi in her bedroom, sleeping (?)
Ranma: last seen by Kasumi in his bedroom/Tendo 2nd floor
guestroom, sleeping (?), in girl-cat form
Nabiki: last seen in the Tendo kitchen, cleaning bowls
Ryoga: propositioned by Ukyo, Ucchan's 2nd floor
Ukyo: propositioning Ryoga, Ucchan's 2nd floor
Kasumi: last seen in the the Tendo kitchen, unconscious
Tofu: last seen in his clinic
Shampoo: last seen turned in her skin, just outside Tendo dojo
Tsubasa: last seen with Kodachi, on Kuno's bed
Kodachi: last seen with Tsubasa, on Kuno's bed
Kuno: bonked by family sign, Kuno estate
Sasuke: last seen fascinated by colors in Kuno receiving
room/bedroom, and STILL chased by the Kuno househelp
Mousse: still asleep, rabidly dreaming, Tendo 1st floor guestroom
Mr. Turtle: last seen river rafting, way back in Part 7
Gosunkugi: gooshed and gooshing, unconscious, at home, in girl-
form
Hinako: last seen playing Street Fighter II, the night before, in
little girl form
Principal Kuno: Hawaii, remember?
Mrs. Kuno: ???
Soun: last seen rearranging the dojo for the wedding
Genma: last seen, in kid form
Nodoka: last seen crying and sleeping, Saotome house
That Shinto priest in OAV 6: last seen, OAV 6
Cologne: hmm... been a while... err... waiting for Shampoo to
reconnai... err... return
Happosai: bonked by skew lamppost, outside Tendo premises
Storyteller: duh? Do I have to remember this now?
Kuno househelp: desperately (drugged) seeking Sasuke
Sasquatch: not in this story
Four flunkies: um... wild passionate orgy? Think not
The man: if I told you, I'd have to kill you. :P
It was up sometime before the Zu webpage version 2.0, parental
guidance. Why is there no number eighteen in the title? Does Soun
really have a big wad of bills? Will Ryoga just be Ukyo's pet? Does
Tsubasa really have Kodachi's heart? Does Kodachi really smell like
roses in full bloom? What has Nabiki done to Kasumi? Why did Happosai
grope Gosunkugi's butt? What happened to Genma? Where is Mr. Turtle?
Who is Sasquatch? Where's my money?! And, do you think that Akane and
Ranma are really asleep?
Maybe soon. Maybe never.
(Detach here)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
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