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A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fic
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Switch: Herbs and Spices Day 1
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 Vector Mark of Approval is the foremost seal of excellence of NFT 
fics.  The freshness, correctness, and F-ness of each work pass through 
rigorous tests of labial dexterity and cognitive consistency.  Grammar 
checked and taste tested by the highly esteemed board of Vector, Editor-
in-Chief.  (No small thanks to Peggy Stonnel who read it without knowing 
what she was getting into and ended up knowing more about the language.)
------------------------------



                              Second Changes



	Halfway through the morning already, and Ranma was already done.  
Having snuck into the bathroom (which was unoccupied at the time), he 
quickly disrobed and fell into the hot water which Kasumi had readied.
	For the second time in the day, he felt the same two things:  
first, the drowsy sleep-dark eating away at his mind's eye;  second, an 
itchy feeling somewhere above his mouth.  To the latter, he raised his 
hand.  At first, it was as though it was twined in miso soup, but he 
realized that it was hair.  His hair, in fact.  He twirled it a bit 
lazily in his hand, and felt the heat eat its way through his lethargy.  
	He wondered slightly what his mustache would look like.  Maybe he 
should fashion handlebars, or something more like Mr. Tendo's beamer.  
Would it add to his natural pizzazz?  As long as it was summer, he could 
grow it as long as he wanted.  He'd have to ditch it come schooltime, but 
it might be worth it.  He decided on keeping it (some fuzzy edge of his 
mind reminding him to ask Akane how it looked on him), and dried up to 
borrow some shaving cream from his father's stuff.  Stepping through the 
bath's door, he donned the loose cotton pantaloons and red shirt he so 
loved to wear.
	As soon as he got to the outer door, though, it was his luck to 
hear Akane bounding down the steps.  She sounded more jovial than 
earlier, but things could take turns for the worst (for him).  
	He decided quickly to keep in the bath, hoping that his fianc�e was 
not going to take a second bath for the morning.  His heart sank when he 
realized that she'd just jogged, of course she was taking another bath.  
Panic seized him just as the knock on the door came.
	"H'llo?  Anybody in there?"
	He decided to play safe.  "Just me."
	"Oh."  The sound of defeated purpose hitched on the syllable.
	Ok, so maybe she's mellowed some.  "I'm done already.  You can use 
the bath."
	The door opened tentatively.
	Akane wasn't very sure what to say.  Sure, he'd been in the bath 
when she came in barely covered.  But she acted way too quickly when she 
bopped him.  Not even a peep did she hear.  So now, she was giving him at 
least some time to talk (and the mood for it too).  Chalk one up for 
Nabiki in techniques of manipulation and human emotion.
	She wasn't expecting the equivalent of seeing Ranma wearing a 
Groucho mustache gone wild.
	"What is that?"  she nearly shouted.
	Ranma looked around, on the alert.  "What?  Where?"
	"On your face, Ranma!"
	Ranma stopped swinging around wildly.  "Oh, you mean this."  His 
mind was racing.  Did she like it?  Was she terrified?  What was it that 
made her not so quite scream?
	"It's a mustache?"  she asked plaintively.
	"Of course it is, you lamebrain!  Just grown in today.  What did 
you think it was?"  He was halfway indignant, and halfway confused.
	Akane almost smoldered at the crack, but kept to herself at the 
second comment.  "Look at yourself, dummy!"
	He turned to face the mirror that was across the room, in the bath.
	It was as big as one grown for three months, with the whiskers 
tickling his cheeks.  It reminded him of walruses, which made the 
position all the more fishy.
	Akane was a hair's breadth ahead of his analysis.  "Is it the 
dragon hair?"
	He nodded.  That dragon hair had quite given him a run for his 
money, and it was coming for a rematch.  
	Akane sighed.  So that's why she felt wrong about judging his 
presence earlier.  She gave him a heavy *scrunch* (because it was him 
after all), let him out the door, and took her bath in peace.

	Happosai knew exactly what to do.
	He gleefully bounded up and down the neighborhood, every once in a 
while grabbing a brassiere or a thong which happened to be lying about, 
regardless of whether or not someone was using it at the moment.  He 
began to leave a trail of mayhem the others were sure to trace in no 
time.  He laughed.  They'd need it, and when they finally get to him, 
he'll be ready.
	A moment's inattention caused him to bump into a bamboo plant, 
knocking it down.  (what was a bamboo plant doing in the middle of the 
road, anyhow?)  He grunted.  These things weren't exactly cloth sacks, 
but you've got to move with the times.  Frilly little things were much 
more soothing to the touch when they're colder.  Getting up, he bounded 
leaving a thoroughly disgruntled Tsubasa wondering what he'd ever done to 
deserve this.

	A few minutes later, Ranma was in bandages, and up to his shoulders 
in facial hair.  
	Akane came down into the living room, then snootily turned her head 
in the diametric opposite Ranma.  She then sat down beside him (kind of 
hard to be angry at a guy you have to sit next to) in disgust.
	Disgust soon turned into concern as she saw the scowl on Ranma's 
face.  Nabiki and Kasumi had interrogated him on the "new look" and from 
the way he avoided her guarded gaze, she could tell what the last 
question was.
	Kasumi then added, while bringing in the tea for midmorning, "why 
is it so long, then?  I didn't notice it yesterday."
	Ranma wondered if she noticed nothing or everything.  "It's the 
dragon hair I ate.  All the hair on my head is growing out again."
	Nabiki took the cup in both hands.  "Then why aren't your eyelashes 
growing?"
	Ranma wavered mildly.  "Uh... "
	There was a mild laugh somewhere over the idea of Ranma sporting 
long (and curly) eyelashes.
	Akane muttered, "maybe he pulled them out."
	Before Ranma could retort, Nabiki continued, "or your nose hair?  
Or your sideburns?"
	Ranma sweated slightly.
	Kasumi swung nearby, while sweeping the yard.  "Maybe because 
dragons don't grow those long."
	Akane faced Nabiki.  "How about his beard?"
	A silence wandered in with the wind.
	Kasumi said, sweeping away, "what an awkward silence."
	Ranma slightly sagged forward.  "But the problem is it's growing 
and I don't have dragon hairs to tie it to, to stop it."
	At this conjecture, Soun sweepingly entered the room.  "Son, you 
may have to pull those hairs out."
	Ranma jumped up and shouted, "what!  Don't be ridiculous!  That may 
work for white hairs or those, but not on mustaches."
	Akane pulled out a set of used tweezers and clippers.  "We can't 
keep pulling at it, or clipping it off."
	Soun consulted his own mustache.
	Nabiki, who had settled into the shadows for solar shielding, 
leaned forward to put in, "why not have Dr. Tofu look at it?"
	Ranma felt himself nodding as he felt cold water running down his 
back.  He leered upward to see an upturned glass in Akane's hand.  "Jeez, 
Akane.  What did you do that for?"  The bareness of his face made itself 
felt.
	Akane simply said, "don't feel that groggy now, do you?"
	Ranma-chan's back straightened.  She was right.
	She explained, "it's that rampant growth that's been wasting you.  
It's taking too much of your energy."
	Soun beamed, "that's my girl."
	Ranma-chan just nodded.  "Then let's make tracks."

	Kodachi looked up from the boiling flask and gave a good shocker of 
a laugh.  She was going to get him this time, for sure.  She'd had Sasuke 
keep an eye on her Ranma sweetums for sometime now, just to see how the 
wenches were trying to win him over.  She had been intrigued enough with 
the use of chemicals, herbs, magic and seduction, but her attention had 
been drawn by the Amazon witch.  But the woman was an amateur, as she 
would always have something go wrong in the deliberation and execution of 
her wares.  She didn't know enough about how these things should be 
treated.  She belted another full-throated symphonic ululation as the 
expense of the purple-haired hussy.
	She slid off the goggles onto the top of her head.  Father had been 
overprotective when it came to the use of the facilities of the 
hydroponics lab situated near their greenhouse, and in his recent return 
to the estate (before he left for the other Pacific end for the summer;  
he so loved Nerima) had reiterated the need for safety precautions.  The 
liner notes Sasuke had picked up for her (much to his dismay, during his 
manhunt for Ryoga, which he had to postpone) had the translations for the 
neatly written (in Chinese) recipes, but after leafing through the pages, 
she kept only the few which had mostly plant derivative ingredients 
available in the greenhouse.  She had wondered why none of them were in 
pastry form, nor had use for eggs, but that line of scheming thought at 
the back of her head had found no practical use for the knowledge.  She 
chuckled mildly (for her), then turned back to her burner.
	It was then that the fluids she was cooking realized that they 
(being foodstuffs of respect) had no right to be in powdered form (which 
was what Kodachi had planned of them, since they were easier to use that 
way), and promptly blew up in her face.
	The lab would need cleaning again, thought Kodachi, as she fell 
into a deep slumber immediately. 

	Kasumi was removing her 'piyo piyo' apron, and said to Nabiki, "I 
wish they'd told me before they went to Dr. Tofu's.  I could've just let 
them take this to him."  She raised her left hand to reveal a slightly 
aged book entitled 'Odes to Nodes:  Acupuncture During the Romantic 
Period'.
	Nabiki was calmly nibbling on a carrot stick.  "I don't know.  
Maybe they're just in a rush to leave us together."
	Kasumi stuck her head in the pantry.  "Honestly, they should take 
their time more often.  What's coming is coming at its own time," she 
tutored motherly.
	Nabiki headed upstairs.  More interesting details were to be worked 
out today, and she was planning to visit the bank.  The advertisement 
campaign had ended this morning, late enough to shake the midmorning 
stocks-and-bonds enthusiasts.  All would work well, she'd been told.  
This was one scheme she would have to monitor in all phases.
	Kasumi had sojourned to her own quarters, to pick out a decent 
enough dress to wear outside.  After picking something light green, 
cottony and loose, she outfitted, then thought of wearing a bonnet which 
matched, but decided otherwise.  She stopped in the kitchen to check 
whether the cookies she was baking were done.  In the living room, her 
father was watching some morning anime.
	"Father, I'm passing by Dr. Tofu's in while, and I'll be buying 
some groceries."
	"That's good," was the only reply.
	The cookies were done when the doorbell rang.
	"I'll get it," Kasumi said cheerily.
	The door opened to reveal Tatewaki Kuno and P-chan.
	She took one look at the bouquets in his left hand and said, "oh, 
if you're looking for Akane, she just left with Ranma for Dr. Tofu's 
clinic.  Why don't you come in?"
	The self-styled modern samurai bowed slightly in acquiescence, then 
entered.  He strode into the living room and sat silently on the floor, 
laying both plant and animal on the table.  He started to stare 
indignantly at the television.
	Meanwhile, P-chan spotted a way out and deftly took it.  He strode 
intently towards the stairs to the upper rooms.
	Kasumi finished placing small decorations on the cookies, and 
placed them on a plate.  This she had wrapped in a silk kerchief, and had 
put it in her basket.  She stepped into the receiving room.  "I'll be 
back in a little while, but father can keep you company," she said, 
referring to Kuno.  And with that, she left.
	
	In Dr. Tofu's clinic, Ranma-chan and Akane removed their shoes and 
wore sandals.  Seeing that the chiropractor still had no patients, they 
called the doctor at once.
	Dr. Tofu went in with a smile which wasn't lost on the young man.  
"Good morning.  Oh, it's Akane and Ranma.  What can I do for you this 
morning?"  he said with no trace of implication.  He started to put on a 
routine he rarely used, but was rarely needed.  "Don't tell me one of you 
beat up the other again?"
	As if on cue, Akane began to fidget.  Works every time, thought the 
moxibunctionist.  Also as if on cue, Ranma-chan began to show the first 
signs of jealousy.  That should work him up, returned the thought.
	"It's not that," said the redhead.  Moving over to the airpot on a 
cabinet, he poured out some hot water, and immediately doused himself.  
He actually had the satisfaction of registering some glimmer of surprise 
from the older man before he almost fainted.
	Dr. Tofu mildly said, "oh," while Akane rushed to the side of the 
fallen Ranma.  It was obvious that the hair growth was taking the strain 
on his energy, noting the aura that surrounded the teen was dim, and the 
amount of growth involved was indeed prodigious, as it hung well down to 
his chest.  Steeling himself, the chiropractor quickly reviewed some of 
the pressure points he would have to use.
	Akane propped Ranma up on an examination table, mindful of the 
dangling fibers.  He was starting to regain consciousness as Akane asked 
their spectacled companion.  "What can you do, doctor?"
	Cracking his knuckles, the doctor replied, "something really 
simple."
	"How simple, doctor?"
	"By pressing several pressure points on the body, localized hair 
growth could be stunted, and even stopped by paralyzing the follicles in 
a relaxed state," calmly said the older man.
	Without another word, he motioned Akane to prop up Ranma's head.  
After pressing some areas near his nape, cheeks and shoulders, he eased 
Ranma into a sleep state, while applying techniques to stunt his mustache 
mayhem.
	After a few ministrations, he was done.
	"Just like that?"  asked Akane, slightly incredulous.
	"Well, they'll come off next time he takes a bath, or changes 
gender, and they won't grow anymore, if that's what you're asking,"  Dr. 
Tofu offhandedly remarked, while wiping his hands with some oil.
	She softly set his head down, allowing herself some time to look at 
his face.
	Noticing Dr. Tofu sitting on another table, she went, voicing, 
"Doctor, I was wondering ..."
	"What is it, Akane?"  Dr. Tofu was wearing a face of concern.
	"Wouldn't other areas of his face sprout hair?"
	The practitioner thought for a moment.  "No.  It seems that his 
hair growth, dictated by the dragon hair he ingested, patterns the hair 
growth of any other dragon, limited to the hair, mustache and beard."
	She thought about her earlier question.  "Then why isn't he growing 
a beard, doctor?"
	"It seems that he can't."
	"Why not?"
	"It's all sort of hereditary."
	"You mean my dad shouldn't be able to grow a beard."  The latter 
came from a revived Ranma, speaking through hooded lips.
	Dr. Tofu turned to the teen.  "Yes."
	"But he's grown one before."
	The doctor notched into a bit more seriousness.  "Are you sure?"
	"Yeah.  What with it?"
	Tofu pursed his lips.  "Nothing.  Nothing really.  Mutations do 
occur."
	Akane and Ranma stared at the older man with a strange expression.
	Dr. Tofu suddenly burst out laughing.  "Hey!  Did I do something?"
	Ranma breathed a sigh of relief (through a forest of hair).  "Just 
thought that something weird was going to happen."
	This was the moment when Kasumi chose to call in.  "Hello?"
	Ranma and Akane jumped at least two feet clear of the young 
professional, whose glasses happened to fog over.  Choosing a hasty 
retreat, they managed to completely avoid Kasumi, and barely overheard 
the comments of acupuncture literature and contortionism (apparently, the 
latter being exhibited by the doctor), and the amusement of a young 
houseperson.

	Mousse was on the way to get some vegetables and meatstuffs from 
the marketplace when he had lucklessly chanced upon Ranma's father 
barreling down the road at 85 mph.  His only consolation was that he 
hadn't purchased anything yet, and so any groceries that could have been 
victimized by needless violence were spared.  The panicked panda had not 
even noticed that he had trampled the young martial artist (who wondered 
obliquely whether martial artists ran into each other more often than 
with other people before fading into unconsciousness accompanying being 
*splut* to the ground), in the mad hunt for his one and only son (as 
uncaring as he was).
	Genma knew at last what the danger signals had forewarned:  Nodoka 
was coming.  Their chance meeting earlier had cinched it.  She was 
planning to stay over at the dojo for at least a week, he could tell.  
The amount of groceries she had been bringing along was much more than 
what she would need in a week, and she hadn't been by in quite a while.  
As per usual, he had to warn his son (the lazy cur) of the impending 
danger, as the presence of his mother had often been accompanied by more 
frequent aquatic exposure, and so forewarned is definitely forearmed.
	He rounded the corner amidst the large-eyed stares of the populace.  
It didn't matter.  As long as the boy (as ungrateful as he is) is safe, 
he's safe, too.



                               Third Degree


	
	The man smiled.  It was just time for lunch, and it would seem that 
plans will be taking effect as they should.  The company was now 
financially secured, and the prospects have only to wait, and he was sure 
that she would deliver.  He would soon have to meet with her to make the 
arrangements for the stocks, then all will be well in that department.

	Ryoga went out of the bathroom in his saffron shirt, one among 
many.  He wondered why it seemed as though in the world of martial 
artists, when they've decided on a form of garb, they seem to stock their 
wardrobes with them.  For him, it's always been a case of making sure 
that there's something he could wear in between transformations wherever 
he could be.  Ranma's had an ensemble of Chinese shirts he's seen, and 
most of the girls have clothes changes every few days.  Mousse has his 
amorphous tunic.  Kuno's always wearing that kendo gi, but that's Kuno.  
He sighed.  People here get too engrossed sometimes.  It'll take days to 
even remember to change.
	Carefully (read:  very, very carefully) retracing his steps, he 
went down the stairs into the viewing area.  His tumultuous concentration 
was unreasonable at best, attuned to his temper.  He had to learn to be 
more calm, he reasoned, if he didn't want to end up in Australia again.  
Keeping the air of a man who would need tearing his arms from his 
shoulders (but the face of decorum;  oh yes, decorum must most definitely 
be maintained), he fairly leapt when he felt a tap.
	He was glad he wasn't any more alert than he was, or else, with his 
super martial artist reflexes, he would've knocked Nabiki's block off.  
Some martial artist reflexes.  He felt himself cool down.  "What do you 
want?"
	Nabiki was wearing some striped shirt and jeans, and her arms were 
crossed in front of her.  For the life of him, she looked like she was 
surprised.  "I was wondering what you were doing here."
	He knew the opening.  "I'm just looking for Ranma.  We have a match 
to settle."
	Nabiki put a hand to her chin.  "Not another one.  You guys seem to 
fight as often than Ranma and Akane."
	He fought to contain the bubbling emotion evoked by the simple 
mention of her name.  Oh Akane.  "He's always the one who starts it."
	A wide-eyed look leapt to her face.  "That's what Ranma says."
	He was starting to get itchy.  "All right, Nabiki.  What is it you 
really want?"
	Nabiki dropped the bit.  "Simple.  I just caught you stealing away 
from Akane's bedroom."
	Ryoga's jaw dropped to mildly mid-torso.  "You what??"
	Nabiki pursued the tag.  "It may escape the attention of most of 
the people in the house, but not from moi."  She loosely waved her hand 
towards her chest.  Ryoga couldn't help but look raptly at it, his mind 
suddenly at warp 3.  Getting caught like that, it was just too careless, 
careless.  But at the same time, he ogled Nabiki as a female.  It was 
getting too bizarre.  "What?  When?  How?" he muttered through barely 
controllable lips.
	Nabiki noticed how close they were.  She dared herself to get even 
closer.  "I knew it from the start Ryoga.  How you were always here, even 
when Ranma wasn't around, for example."
	Ryoga sweated.  He wanted to believe it was the weather, but it was 
ominously clear that it was the fact that he was caught in the headlights 
of one called Nabiki, in more than one way.  What he was worried about 
was that the closer she got, the more painfully clear it was that the 
mild scent of perfume was wafting in his nostrils.
	When she got as close as she had, they were standing with Ryoga 
trying to inch slowly up the wall on tiptoes, and Nabiki bent at the 
waist and peering at him, looking like she was going to buy him.  There's 
no way out, Ryoga's mind moaned in his soft as jelly ears.
	It was then that Nabiki had an itch on her collarbone.
	As she held her collar, and raised it, the last thing Ryoga saw was 
Nabiki's slender neck, and ...

	Nabiki was glad that she had backed away quickly.  Blood seemed to 
be everywhere, just gushing out of Ryoga's nose.  Nabiki just smiled.  
She dragged him by the scruff of his neck on the way out.  He deserved 
it, she reasoned.  She looked back into his face.  For being a bad boy.  
My sister doesn't take to perverts easily, so you can't ask me to help 
you there.  Besides, I already have plans.

	Soun turned off the set.  The morning animes had ended, and the 
early noon news was on.  He didn't care for midday information anyhow.  
The best time to take your medicine was in the morning, he always 
thought.
	He stared at the young man across the table.  He knew that look.  
He bent over to knock on the kendo champion's head.  Empty.
	It would look like young Kuno was going to be around for lunch, he 
thought.  Hope he'd have regained consciousness then.  Morning anime 
always seemed to have this effect on him.
	He caught the sight of Nabiki dragging along a body.  She said, 
"he's just going to join me in going to the bank, daddy.  Something about 
protecting and ladies, or something."  She lopsidedly smirked.
	Soun just waved her off.  "Have a care."  He saw her drag the young 
man in yellow away.
	I can only hope she's not after the young man's money this time, 
Soun thought.

	It was about early lunch when the Ucchan's opened.  Although 
okonomiyaki was a staple breakfast (and all-around) meal, it was rare 
that people went out to eat that there.  One reason was that the 
Ucchan's, along with some landmarks such as the Tendo dojo, the Furinkan 
high school, the Kuno mansion, and the Cat Cafe, were trouble magnets.  
This was mainly because this was where a certain Ranma Saotome would 
visit every so often.  Also, there was an oblique loneliness about the 
place which did not bode well for the occupants within.  But come lunch 
time, the scent of the secret ingredients and cooking batter held a 
sonata to the nose that almost none could avoid.
	It could be reasoned that the Ucchan's, along with the Cat Cafe, 
both had the distinction of having good food, great entertainment (since, 
in some way or another, all Nerima residents had an insatiable urge to 
watch all-or-nothing fights up close and personal), and terrific service.  
Indeed, a percentage of the regulars would stay there just to ogle at the 
proprietor (or proprietor's relatives or friends).  But, Ukyo reasoned, 
they would choose the Ucchan's more often, because it was there they felt 
most at home.
	Ukyo had the personality for small chat and large talks, and knew 
most of the people who came in by face.  She felt that the ambiance that 
she had created for the place echoed her need to be among others, and for 
others to be around her.  Still, she held herself aloof.  Her heart had 
many rooms for others, but the one she was in was always cold, always 
alone.
	She needed someone.  She knew, in that same heart, that he lived 
just nearby.  His door was open, but never all the way.
	The regulars started pouring in, with a few fresh new faces.  A 
little nod or two, some kind words, and some batter and sauce.  It was 
the start of a good day.
	The summer heat had forced her to open the windows.  Again, the sun 
bridled through without love.  She sighed without contentment.
	After an order for two yakisoba was bandied about, and she was 
wondering whether to get a waiter (or waitress), she watched as Akane 
walked in with Ranma-chan.  She smiled openly at them, and started to 
make four okonomiyaki along with the soba noodles for the earlier order.  
In five seconds, she had prepared the modern yaki on plates and had 
tossed them with her left hand to the right table.  While some thanks 
were shouted from that side, with her right hand she brought the other 
two on plates to where her two classmates sat.
	Ranma-chan spared no expense other than to bellow out thanks before 
engulfing the extra large helping he had been served, while Akane rolled 
her eyes at him.  She took a section she had sliced off and bit on it.  
She then tastefully ate it, then turned to talk to Ukyo.
	"How is it?"  Ukyo began.
	"It's good," Akane replied, when Ranma-chan added, "as usual."  He 
smiled broadly.
	She quickly prepared another generous helping.  "What leads you to 
this neck of the woods, at lunchtime?  Last I heard, Kasumi was at home."
	With Ranma-chan wolfing down his (first) seconds, the two fianc�es 
had to continue the conversation.  "She's at Dr. Tofu's," she said 
wistfully.  "Now she'll probably be there until a bit later, just to fix 
up a bit."
	"You two were just there, I take it."
	"Yup," she said plainly.  Ranma-chan took up the topic, "I had to 
see him about my mustache."
	Some nearby gents overheard the last comment, and turned discreetly 
to pick up on the rest of the conversation.  Their hopes were dashed with 
a sharp look from the blue-eyed redhead.
	Ukyo was piqued.  "What about your mustache?"  Another helping.
	Akane let go of her chopsticks and started applying a napkin to her 
lips.  "Apparently, it was being affected by the dragon hair he digested 
some time back."
	"Doesn't it lose effect or something?  It was just ingested 
anyhow."
	"I don't know," said Akane, her blue-black hair shining.  Ranma-
chan stared at the two of them.  "What's with the 'ingested' and 
'apparently'?  You two on the drama club or something?  Gettin' ready for 
a play?"
	"You wouldn't know anything," Akane shot back.
	Ranma-chan shrugged, which brought their blooming argument into the 
ground.  While he dug into the remains of the last okonomiyaki, Ukyo 
whispered, "there's something wrong with him, all right.  He can't carry 
a decent word war with you." 
	Akane could only shake her head.  "You're right."
	Ranma-chan looked up at the two of them.  "What with the two of 
you?  Sounds as though my birthday's comin' up or somethin'."
	Ukyo motioned to make two more hefty platefuls.  "Maybe it is."
	Ranma-chan took a bite of the first one that came.  Then he snapped 
his fingers.  "Come to think of it..."
	This had the two other girls straighten.  Akane was the one who had 
the nerve to say, "it is?"
	Ranma-chan just shrugged, "nope."
	This was enough to get him dagger looks from his companions, which 
in turn was enough to shut him up through the next two hotcakes.
	Ukyo just said, "so that's why he's eating even more than usual."
	Again, the shorthaired girl assented.  "And he's still having 
lunch.  Ranma," the last directed at the obvious, "you'd better leave 
some stomach for lunch, you know."
	"But it'll be afternoon when Kasumi comes back," he reasoned.
	"I'll be cooking lunch."
	Ranma-chan tried the path of least resistance.  He failed.  He 
gulped audibly.
	Ukyo had thought a bit, and started baking three okonomiyaki.  She 
was glad no one had come in during the past few minutes, this being lunch 
hour.  These okonomiyaki were definitely an emergency supply.  Akane was 
busy staring at Ranma-chan, determined to see him through to her lunch.  
She smiled.  This, she believed, was the overall reason as to why she'd 
end up with him:  Akane couldn't cook to save her life.  Tying up the 
fresh batch in a delivery box, she motioned slightly to Ranma-chan.  She 
slipped him the parcel with a wink.  He smiled broadly again, and 
whispered his thanks.  Coming into a suspicious gaze of Akane, they went 
to the door.
	When they left, the self-styled ninja felt her shoulders sag under 
an empty weight.  Together, they were.  Don't they know how entirely 
destructive to a psyche that was.  She shook her head and smirked.  This 
was getting melodramatic.  With what little patience she had left, she 
returned to open a crate of eggs.

	Nodoka was surprised that the doorbell rang.
	Opening the gate, she saw no one.
	"What a weird happening," was all she said, before she went back in 
for cooking.

	Kuno woke up with a start.  He was holding the hand of a mustached 
old man.  He let go of it immediately.
	"I'm glad you chose to rejoin the world," said the mustachioed man, 
returning to his newspaper.  Kuno, with some confusion, got up and 
returned to his house for lunch.

	A lone figure leapt through the forest.  The forest was the best 
route for any diminutive martial artist to take during the hot high noon.  
He had gotten the hang of lugging along the lanky device.  But he was 
sure that it was going to be worth it.  It was probably best if he was 
controlling the fight from the start.  It wasn't fair, but who said life 
was?

	He'd never seen it before.  Nabiki was brimming with unadulterated 
glee.
	Ryoga had barely caught up with Nabiki's bright steps.  She wasn't 
showing any signs of emotion beyond the gait in her walk.  And that gleam 
in her eyes.  It was as though she could do one of the more perfect Tiger 
Fireballs that Ranma had belted before.  
	They had passed by most of the shopping complex in the commercial 
district of Nerima.  She started slowing down near the entrance.  He 
wasn't surprised, as they had had the pace since they left the bank.
	Having been confused by the earlier events of the day (as he was 
wont to do), he promptly forgot most of the events leading to him 
escorting Nabiki.  The only sure thing was that the sun started to beat 
upon them as though it was lunch somewhere on his more foreboding trips, 
not the friendly streets of the downtown.
	As luck would have it, the next turn led them face to face with the 
okonomiyaki shack.  Nabiki entered without much delay, with the lost boy 
in tow.
	As the two entered, Ukyo glanced sharply upward, in a lightning 
reflex to what she thought was danger.  Upon sighting Nabiki's face, she 
felt a chill when she stared into the shorthaired woman's eyes.  In an 
instant, she knew (with that famed woman's instinct, for those redoubting 
males), what Nabiki was planning to do.  Seized with indiscernible terror 
and panic, she stood paralyzed as Nabiki broke contact and hefted Ryoga 
into the darker corners of the shop.
	Ukyo was stunned.  There was a slight wave of nausea that held her, 
but otherwise, the past moments held no clue.  She wasn't exactly sure 
what had transpired, but it had something to do with the latest two 
patrons.  Without realizing it, she brought two orders of lunch to the 
table huddled in the shadows (as shadows can huddle in the noontime, that 
is).
	Nabiki was sure of it, giddy as she was.  This was all part of the 
grand scheme.  It just wasn't very sporting of her to get the upper hand 
in the impromptu battle of wits, but she wasn't backing down.  No, she 
wasn't giving him up without a fight.  The young warrior seated in front 
of her was confused, but she planned to give him something to think 
about.
	This wasn't right, Ryoga thought.  There was something about the 
presence of shadows in a room with windows open at half-past noon to keep 
a martial artist who's dealt with magic, ghosts, demons and perverts on 
his toes.  And the tension in the air was palpable as the young 
entrepreneur went over.
	She let the plates in her hands lay themselves upon the table.  Her 
eyes never left the back of the head of the brown-haired girl, before the 
latter slowly turned to view her hostess.
	"Well," she said evenly.
	"Well," responded the long-haired ninja, voice thick.
	It was a glad thing that the corner of the room was conceivably 
obstructed, as certain corners of diners were, to facilitate backroom 
dealings and underworld contracts.  Nabiki knew all these at the back of 
her head, and had had a few choice encounters of her own.  
	The presence of the okonomiyaki chef outside her customary grill 
was enough to get the attention of most of the regulars.  Unfortunately 
for them, the corner was as tight as it could get.
	Ryoga was feeling pretty normal at this point.
	Nabiki held Ukyo in their second war of wills, with neither giving 
way.  It was awkward to view such a tournament in the confines of the 
Ucchan's (if not the district), and so some of those watching started to 
fall back into the better lit areas of the restaurant.  It fell on dead 
ears that, in the end, Nabiki actually won.  It helped that she knew what 
this battle was about, and that her opponent did not.
	After a few minutes of the staring match, it surprised many when 
the middle Tendo sister gave the unsuspecting Hibiki a full kiss in the 
mouth.  Before he could properly faint, Nabiki was gone.
	Standing in leftover okonomiyaki bits, and a sea of misplaced jaws, 
Ukyo waded through the small pool which separated her and Ryoga, who had 
his face in a plate.

	Tsubasa yawned.
	He had had enough trouble with the bamboo costume, he decided.  He 
had been sidetracked, and bopped as well.  On top of that, he was getting 
hungry.  One always takes care of one's stomach in Nerima.
	Also, in Nerima, the best way to get a free meal was to follow 
one's nose.  That exactly was what Tsubasa was doing when he smelled the 
smell of fine cuisine wafting in the late morning breeze.  Trailing the 
silhouetted figure jumping through the rooftops, he went the shortest 
path to his stomach.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------
	(Detach here)
	So I lied.  Most of them were there, too.
	The second break I will take starts here, and I am glad to say that 
it is worth it.  The second and third parts may not suit some people, but 
they just so happen to bring me into the fold of the story.  I can only 
hope that the next parts (starting with part 4, The Light on the Fourth 
Floor) would come at better times and moods.  How did you like the way I 
handled the match between Nabiki and Ukyo?  Did anyone find out what it 
was about?
	Just in case it had slipped some people (including myself), the 
dragon hair episode that they are referring to is the one where Ranma 
eats some dragon hair, which is currently making his hair grow, kept in 
check by the dragon hair his hair is tied around (in a neat pigtail).  
The dragon they are referring to is the eastern dragon, I think, Ranma is 
referring to the lack of beard growth as implied by the 22nd episode in 
the English dubbed episodes of Ranma 1/2 (second episode of the tape 
titled It's Fast or It's Free), Dr. Tofu is referring to an apocryphal 
gene which controls beard growth (as well as an apocryphal set of 
pressure points for selective hair denial, which was pointed out by 
Nabiki, in case I may forget, because she's had the doctor use it on her 
legs:  any wonder why she doesn't shave those?), and I am referring to 
Ryoga's yellow-black outfit.  
	This current affair brings me into a dilemma, because this Ranma 
universe patterns itself from the English translated manga, thus the 
references to left-handedness.  This is all nice and fascinating if you 
were there, but since you're not, I'd hope you'll bear with my nuances.
	Currently, a recap of where everyone mentioned was:
	Ranma:  with Akane, transformed, on the way to the dojo
	Akane:  with Ranma, also on the way to the dojo
	Ryoga:  with Ukyo, in the Ucchan's, unconscious
	Ukyo:  with Ryoga, at the Ucchan's, having lunch hour rush, 
confused 
	Nabiki:  seen fleeing the scene of the crime at the Ucchan's
	Kasumi:  fixing up at Dr. Tofu's
	Tofu:  everybody hopes he's in his clinic, with Kasumi, 
unfortunately
	Soun:  in the dojo, calmly waiting for Kasumi's return
	Genma:  transformed, on the way to the dojo with bad news
	Cologne:  cooking, still wondering why Shampoo's missing, at the 
Cat Cafe
	Mousse:  unconscious, somewhere in the marketplace
	Happosai:  somewhere in Japan, lugging a box
	Shampoo:  going to the Tendo dojo, jumping on rooftops
	Tsubasa:  trailing Shampoo, through the rooftops of Nerima
	Nodoka:  cooking something up at the Saotomes' house, planning to 
go to the dojo sometime really, really soon, which incidentally is 
Genma's bad news
	Kuno:  in the Kuno estate, having lunch
	Sasuke:  setting Kuno's lunch, in the tames of the Kuno estate
	Kodachi:  unconscious, in the greenhouse, Kuno estate
	Mr. Turtle:  unconscious in the pond, Kuno estate
	Principal Kuno:  somewhere in Hawaii, I think
	The man:  somewhere in time (trust me on this)
	Next up, the light at the fourth floor!  What is going on here?  
What is the purpose of the man?  What other inane explanations will I 
come up with?  What sub-stories can blossom like algae in the unexplored 
regions of this fic?  When are they going to have lunch?  Am I going to 
have lunch?  What money-making scheme is Nabiki up to, and what does it 
have to do with Ryoga?  What money-making schemes am I up to, to sustain 
the life and deaths of this fic?  And, what of Ranma and Akane's destiny?  
(I've always wanted to say that)
	Please somehow send C&C.  
	(Detach here)
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