"Pops"
----

a Ranma 1/2 FanFiction
by Ben Jernigan AKA Exar

----

Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and is distributed in the US
by VIZ. I claim no rights to these characters.

----

Nabiki started the tape playing. She had gotten it from one of her factors,
a girl in the schools jouranism club. Apparently, someone working for the
school paper had interviewed Ranma, and she wanted to hear the goods.

The tape cracked a bit as if someone inexperienced with a microphone was
handing one.

The interviewer's voice was muffled and indistinct. Presumably, they had
their questions written down and didn't need to record them.

Ranma's voice came though clear.

"A lot of people who think they know all about my life ask me 'Ranma, why do
you put up with all the things your father puts you through?'

The best answer is simple: I love the old bastard. No matter what he does,
he's my father. I love him. Liking him is tricky at times, but love is
constant.

Sometimes, I even respect him. Sure, he's sloppy and greedy, and thinks with
his stomach more often than his head, but he's never been cruel to me for
the sake of cruelty. It's always been incedental. And heck, I don't think so
good when I'm hungry, either. But for a long time he was the only role model
and friend I had. "

There is a pause on the tape, as the reporter asked an unheard question.

"He was a good one. He never let me slack off, never let me take the easy
path, never let me relax my guard or lose my focus. His goal for me, which
has become my goal for myself, is to be the best. And he would sacrifice
anything in pursuit of that goal, even the trust and good feelings of his
son.

Long ago, he sat me down and told be point-blank: Ranma, there will be many
days ahead when you will hate me boy. There will be times when I will have
to make choices not as your father, but as your sensei. Through it all,
never forget that I love you boy, and I am doing this for the sake of the
Art."

Another pause with muffled speech.

"The Art. Forget the bhudda, forget the kami. The Art was our god, and our
temple was every dojo we passed through, every forest campsite we set and
sparred in, every ancient training ground we tracked down. We lost ourselves
in the worship of it, concentrating all our efforts on ceaseless
improvement, endlessly striving to be the very best, to learn all there was
to learn, and to trimuph over any odds laid against us.

Sure, he used bogus training practices sometimes, and he stole to feed us,
but considering his training under Happosai, he didn't really know any
better."

Apparently the reporter leaned forward, because at this point a female voice
can be heard saying, "Why not?"

"We don't really talk about it much, but I know that Saotome was my Mother's
name. Pops didn't have a name when they married. He was taken in as an
orphan by the old freak. He was raised from a very early age to have no
morals at all and to capitalize on the limitations of others. It was the
stories told of Samurai and heroes of old where Genma first learned the
concept of honor. Stories told by a foolish young runaway named Soun Tendo,
who had taken up under Happosai to avoid an arranged marriage his parents
were forcing him into. From these stories, Pops learned a better way, the
path of the true martial artist, the path of honor. Over time, the stories
and the ideas they represented gave the two the backbone they needed to free
themselves from the old perv."

The reporter again said something the mic didn't catch.

"Yeah, the cat thing really sucked, but apart from the age thing, can you
really say it's worse than any other training regimen around here? Ryoga got
pounded with boulders to learn the Breaking Point. I had to stick my hands
in Fire when they were super-sensitive to learn the Chestnuts Roasting on an
Open fire attack. The Rising Dragon Ascension Wave involved Cologne hitting
me a lot with that damn staff of hers. To get any kind of power, great
effort and often, great pain is required. "

"So yeah, Pops is a pain and all, but he's MY pain. No one else gets to
pound him. Excpet Ukyo, and that other girl, what's her name? oh, and Mom,
and Akane once in a while, and I think Mr. Tendo has hit him a few times....
"

The recording fades out, and the tape stops. Nabiki smirked and made a few
notes on her clipboard, then reached out and turned off the tape deck.

-END

i got tired of seeing so many Genma-bashing fics so I decided to put this
together. I have a turbulent relationship with my father in real life, so it
was pretty easy to get into Ranma's head here. Hope ya like it.



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