[R1/2] Ranma . . . in Love!? Part One

Ranma . . . in love!?
by Christopher Bair

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This work is a piece of fan fiction, and is only copyright able by concept, not by characters,
depictions of such, or the trademarks, copyrights or other ownerships designated by others.
Copyright (C) 1996 Christopher Bair for the work, and other copyrights, trademarks and
ownerships owned by their respective owners. This work may be distributed freely by electronic
means, or downloaded onto one machine with access to the work, or made into a single hard
copy. Distribution by other means is restricted without the permission of the author or the owners
of the trademarks, copyrights and ownerships here within. All rights reserved.
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Part One--"Enter Izumi"

Tuesday's humidity peaked at 70%, giving the atmosphere a heavy, warm feeling. Sweat beaded
down on Ranma's forehead, the bandana tied tightly around his brow to keep the stinging liquid
from his eyes. Watching Akane play softball was not the extracurricular activity he wanted to
participate in, but he had to wait until she was through. He, Akane, Ukyo and three of Akane's
friends, were to go to the theater tonight. In order not to miss the showing, he had to wait around
for Akane.

KRAK! The ball shot between Akane and the third baseman, skidding into left field. Akane tried
for the ball, but the velocity carried past her before she could meet it. The left fielder pitched into
Akane, who in turn relayed it to the pitcher. The runner was safe on first.

The next two batters went down with pop flies to short outfield. The third struck out. With the
side retired, Akane and her teammates headed into their dugout, while the opposing team traded
places in the field. Akane was on deck, while the center fielder had first bat this inning.

Ukyo arrived, her spatula shining the sun into Ranma's eyes for a brief moment. She wielded it,
and headed toward the incline on which he was sitting. She sat next to him, placing the weapon
next to her on the hot grass.

"What's the score?" she asked, watching as the batter got a double to right center field. Akane
gripped her bat tightly and made her way to the batter's box. A few of the other guys sitting on
the incline cheered for her as she entered the white chalk box.

"Nothing to nothing," he said. "It's the fourth inning."

"Oh." Ukyo cared for softball even less than Ranma. She was here for the same reason he was.
Akane's friends, only one of whom was not on the softball team, were here as well. The game
would only last another two-and-a-half innings, unless the score was still tied.

Akane smacked the ball directly on the meat of the metal bat, the rubber-twine-and-cork object
singing as it went into orbit. Ranma and Ukyo watched it in awe, seeing it sail past the fence and
heading toward the trees that lined the perimeter of the parking lot.

A figure, silhouetted by the sun, caught the ball behind the fence, holding it up as though it were a
prize. People watched to see what this person would do, even Akane. After all, the person was
not even wearing a mitt, and to catch a ball that traveled that quickly and hard without pain was a
tremendous feat.

The person wound up, and threw the ball back into the field. It was heading toward the pitcher, so
she prepared herself to catch the ball. It scorched her hand as it tore a hole through the leather
mitt, cratering the ground next to the mound. It sunk nearly half-a-meter into the dirt, the
stitching half torn to shreds.

Whispers and questions arose from the crowd on the sidelines. No one knew whom this person
was. Ranma looked at Ukyo, who was still trying to comprehend what had just happened. The
silhouette leaped into the air, all but flying into the infield and landing next to the ball's crater.

"Who are you?" the pitcher asked, confused and a bit frightened. The young lady wore Chinese
stock clothing, the type a person would wear while doing expeditions or serious hiking through
the jungles and forests of the mainland. Her long red hair ended in a bow just above her rounded
buttocks. Her soft face told anyone who peered at her that she was not even eighteen.

"Where's Genma Saotome?" the person declared, looking around the field at the individuals still
gawking at her. Ranma's face blushed, and he started checking the people around him in case they
thought somehow his family had done something else terrible.

Ukyo's eyes were as big as saucers. "Ranchan . . . ?"

"Uh . . . That's--"

"Do you know this person?" Ukyo grasped her spatula tighter. Ranma scrambled to his feet, his
sweat almost raining from his pores. Ukyo asked him again whether he knew her.

"She . . . does look familiar."

Ukyo stowed her spatula in her holder, resting on her shoulder sash. She dashed down to the field
to intercept this new person, while the latter was still questioning the softball teams.

"Ukyo," Akane said as she noticed the okonomiyaki cook bound up to the unknown female,
"you're here."

"Where's Genma Saotome?" the female demanded again, this time searching the sidelines for the
culprit. She noticed a figure leap into the air and head toward her. The person landed two meters
away, then bowed.

"I'm Ranma Saotome, of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts," he stated, then raised his
head. At this moment, he saw the person, and studied her face. For each second he looked, she
seemed to get more familiar. He felt himself blush a little, and noticed that he was stammering
nonsense. She was vaguely familiar . . .

"Ranma?" she asked. "Son of Genma?"

"Uh-huh . . ."

"Ranma?" Ukyo and Akane asked in unison. His eyes had already bugged out, and his face was as
cherry as a deliciously ripe apple.

"Ranma?" the person asked, tears welling in her eyes. She threw herself at Ranma, tossing her
arms around him. Akane's rage boiled up within her. Ranma, though, was too far into shock to do
anything. "Ranma . . . how I've missed you."

Comments, questions, etc., e-mail me at:
caern3@cris.com

Continued in Part Two,
"Parting Waters"