In getting ready to release the new chapter 3, I decided
to repost the first two chapters of this, since it's been
a while and I've also made numerous little changes since
then. The complete version of chapter 2 also was never
posted to the FFML.
For those new to the story, it follows the first day of
school relatively close to the original, but after that
it goes off on it's own plot-line. The basic premise
is a world where Soun and Genma never met, though I
expand on that considerably.
Expect to see chapter 2 tomorrow and 3 the day after.
Finally, I'd like to thank everyone who wrote me about
this story. I wouldn't have been able to work on it
otherwise.
Will You be my Fiance?
(A Ramna 1/2 Alt History)
By Ammadeau
Roy.Fokker@UNSpacy.org
http://Ammadeau.tripod.com/fanfiction.htm
Ranma was lying down on his bed, the world swirling
around him. Just when had his life become so complicated? It all
started when a friend had asked him to pretend to be her fianc� so
she didn't end up getting married to someone she had just met.
Now because of his mom, he was now engaged to one of his best
friends. Then he found out that his father had arranged a marriage
for him! From there, things only got worse; more rivals, more
fiancees, to the point that it was hard to remember who was
engaged and/or fighting who.
Maybe he could figure this out if he thought back to when
it all started. Sounds like a good idea. Hmm, it all started . .
Chapter 1: One Day
It was the first day of school for Ranma, for the second
time in a week. Due to some rather odd problems, he had been
forced to transfer from his new school to Furinkan High. It wasn't
his fault that the gym had been leveled. He still wasn't clear on
what he had actually done to earn the wrath of the master of
Demolition Martial Arts. Why should he have cared if one of
Ranma's other fights had knocked down the building the man had
been paid to wreck? It got demolished either way, didn't it?
Ranma had a problem. Actually, he had several, but the
main one was this: trouble always seemed to have a way of finding
him. It was as if he were a magnet for every weird or dangerous
thing that happened in Japan. He collected arch-rivals and bizarre
curses the way others collected lint, and certainly not by choice.
There wasn't a week that went by without someone showing up
with a grudge over something he, or more often, his father had
done. If not that, then he'd end up starting a rivalry with a
complete stranger over some stupid thing like who got the last
piece of bread in the cafeteria. Well, maybe not something that
ridiculous. All of those extra fights had made him a much better
martial artist than he would have been otherwise, but it sure didn't
make life easy for him.
Anyway, here he was, at the entrance to his new school,
tugging at his new uniform's stiff collar. Pops didn't care if he
went in his Chinese clothes, but his mother wanted him to make a
good impression, since it was likely that if he screwed up here, he'd
be banned from all of the other high schools in the district. Having
already been declared a natural disaster by Japan's educational
system, he might even be forced to study abroad. Ranma had a
long enough walk as it was.
He was surprised to see a crowd of boys gathered at the
center of the school yard. Mob would have been a better term;
they all seemed to be from various sports clubs, dressed in their
baseball, tennis, judo, etc. uniforms and carrying the tools of their
various trades. Was there some sort of sports rally being held that
morning? It didn't seem likely since none of the girls were
similarly dressed. He knew that girls could get just as into sports
as any guy. He couldn't forget Lady Sumo or the Karate Queen no
matter how hard he tried.
But before he could ask what was going on, he heard a
voice behind him scream, "I hate boys! I hate boys! I hate
boys!!!" As he turned, a girl flew past him, her long black hair tied
into a long pony tail that fluttered in the wind behind her. The rest
of her was a blur as she charged straight into the mob.
Ranma's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe what he was
seeing. The boys were actually attacking her! No matter that she
swung her way through their ranks like a wrecking ball as she took
them down without getting hit herself. Ranma immediately saw
red. Forgetting everything his mother had told him about not
getting in trouble, he jumped right into the fray.
Ranma was a blur of motion that the boys had difficulty
following, much less attacking. He seemed to effortlessly flow out
of their way, almost like a ghost, only becoming solid in order to
strike. Soon Ranma and the girl were the only ones left standing.
She immediately turned to face him, dropping into a
defensive stance. Ranma only looked puzzled. Since he didn't
attack, she launched one of her own. He simply dodged out of the
way of all of her strikes. He knew she was strong from the way
she handled those boys earlier, but thankfully she wasn't that fast,
because all the could to at the moment was dodge. There was no
way he was going to fight a girl. His mother would kill him.
Peeping was fine, but fighting was a big no no. His mom was
weird.
He was getting a little distracted by his thoughts; that last
punch almost hit him. *This girl is too slow,* Ranma thought,
but he found her potential more impressive than her skills.
"Come on!" she shouted impatiently at him, "Are you
going to fight me or not?"
"No," Ranma replied, and kept up his dodging.
This seemed to make the girl even angrier for some reason.
"So I'm not good enough for you to fight, is that it?"
The rest of the students watched the two in awe. They had
never seen anyone who could match Akane before. The new guy
looked to be winning, though he wasn't even fighting back. None
of this registered with a certain kendoist, who was waiting for the
preliminaries to be over so he could make his entrance.
"I don't hit girls," Ranma told the girl that was attacking
him as he dodged a kick which he would have felt for days had it
connected. She certainly wasn't kidding around.
Akane was getting more and more frustrated. Not only was
this boy dodging all of her best strikes, but he seemed to not even
take this fight seriously. She wasn't about to let herself lose and let
some jerk think that he had the right to date her, not that she had
any plans on paying attention to Kuno's ridculous proclimation.
"Why are you fighting me anyway?" Ranma asked, not
really worried about being late for his first day of classes. He
never really cared for school, though he did well enough to get by.
His mom didn't think grades were that important to being manly.
"Because you're a jerk." She said the first thing that came
to her mind, since she was concentrating mostly on trying to maim
him.
"What did I do?" he inquired in a tired-sounding voice.
Why was he cursed to offend everyone he ever met?
"Why won't you fight me for real?"
Tatewaki Kuno, rising young star of the kendo world, had
finally had enough. For why should a nobleman such as himself be
kept waiting, depriving his ladylove of his manly visage? If Akane
could not defeat this peasant, perhaps it should be he who brought
the scoundrel low? What better way to prove his superior
prowess?
"Halt!" he commanded, stepping out onto the school
grounds for all to see, dressed in the traditional garb of a kendoist
(minus the armor), bokken in the one hand, rose in the other. Kuno
completely missed the look of disgust that crawled across Akane's
face as she first caught sight of him.
Ranma was actually thankful for the interruption. At least
the girl had stopped trying to hit him. Now all he needed to know
was why she was trying to fight him in the first place. And while
he was at it, why all of those boys had tried to attack her.
"So cur," Kuno addressed Ranma, holding his bokken in a
ready position. "You seek to date the lovely Akane Tendo by
defeating her in combat. But before that you must face me,
Tatewaki Kuno, Blue Thunder of Furinkan High!"
"Huh?" was the only reply Ranma could form before Kuno
lunged at him.
Looking out from her classroom window, Nabiki wondered
if for once Kuno was in way over his head. Akane regularly
pounded him and this new guy avoided all of her hits with ease.
She decided that it was time to set up a few bets. Her eyes lingered
over the new boy for a few more moments. She could have sworn
that she'd seen him someplace before, but for the life of her
couldn't think of where.
The fight was relatively short. Kuno lashed out with his
bokken at speeds that could bruise by the air pressure alone, which
Ranma dodged on instinct, still confused about what exactly was
going on. He was used to people attacking him, but at least they
usually gave him a reason why, though their reasons often made
little sense. For the second time that day he was thankful that two
of the prime tenants of the Saotome School of Anything Goes
Martial Arts were speed and evasion.
Ranma shrugged. It didn't really matter why this guy was
attacking him. Now that he wasn't facing a girl, he had no problem
fighting back. Drawing himself up, Ranma declared, "Attack of a
Thousand Stingers!" As he leapt at Kuno, his hands became a blur
that no eye there could follow. Moments later Kuno lay
unconscious, with nothing left of his bokken but splinters.
"Hi, I'm ...um Ranma Saotome," he said to the class. He
was nervous, not because it was a new school (he was used to
transferring by now), but because of looks he was getting. Half the
boys were glaring at him, which from prior experience Ranma
knew would lead to fights later. He wasn't worried, none of them
had any real training, he could take them all on without any
trouble.
Then there were the looks that half the girls were giving
him which made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. They were the
very opposite of the boys'. They were the kind of expressions his
kid sister got at the candy store, wanting to buy all of it and take it
with her. They all looked hungry.
"It seems that you just transferred here from Kento High
School," the teacher announced. "However, that doesn't change the
fact that you and Akane Tendo were late. Go stand in the hall."
"This is all your fault, you know," Akane told him after a
few moments of silence.
"My fault? That Kuno jerk attacked me."
"Well, that wouldn't have happened if you hadn't butted in
on my fight."
"I couldn't just stand by and let those guys attack you like
that. It isn't right. Guys shouldn't hit girls."
"Well, I happen to be a girl and a martial artist. I've been
fighting those guys every morning for the past week."
"So what was that all about anyway? That Kuno guy was
babbling something, but I could hardly understand what he was
saying." *Does that guy think that he's in some samurai epic or
something?*
"At the beginning of the year, Kuno made this stupid
speech about any guy who wanted to date me had to defeat me in
combat first. I've had to fight them all every morning for over a
week now."
"And the school hasn't done anything to stop this?"
"The principal is Kuno's dad, though no one has seen him
yet. I hear he's in Hawaii, studying their teaching methods. The
vice-principal is a real pushover, so Kuno can do pretty much
whatever he wants."
In another classroom, Kuno was using a hand mirror to
examine 'Baka' neatly printed on his forehead. Nabiki snickered as
the kendoist complained about the 'wretched knave's' lack of
proper spelling. Personally, she thought he had it exactly right.
For lunch, the students of Furinkan High had drifted out
into the school yard, to eat out in the sun or under the shade of
trees, rather than in a stuffy classroom.
Ranma wandered around, looking for a place to sit. Most
of the guys were throwing him hostile looks while most of the girls
looked a little too friendly. Girls like that only made him nervous.
He knew that he was supposed to do, but what? His mother's
suggestions always lead to trouble and when Ranma had asked his
father, the explanation he had gotten was so vague that the old man
could have been talking about anything from martial arts to food,
which were about Ranma's only topics of conversation with his
pop.
He noticed out of the corner of his eye that the girl from the
morning fight was sitting with two other girls under the shade of a
tree. She was watching him with an expression that was neither
like the boys nor the other girls were giving him. If Ranma had to
describe it, he would have called it curious, like she didn't know
quite what to make of him. It was a look Ranma himself usually
reserved for some of his stranger opponents. When their eyes met,
she turned away in a huff, as if he watching her watch him had
offended her somehow.
*I just don't understand girls at all.*
Ranma had just settled in and started on his lunch when
Kuno attacked. He managed to finish his lunch and fend of the
kendoist with relative ease. Heck, Ranma was used to people
trying to interrupt his meals. Training with his father over the
dinner table every night had paid off. Ranma used his chopsticks
to halt Kuno's bokken and throw him into a wall. Ranma frowned
slightly when he realized that if his father had seen that fight, all
Genma would do was complain about his son using a 'weapon.'
Lunch ended with Kuno making another trip to the nurse's
office.
Back in class, Ranma tried to catch up on his sleep. Lying
his head on his desk wasn't nearly as comfortable as his pillow at
home, but it would have to do. The old man insisted that Ranma
train before school, robbing the boy of the chance to sleep in. If it
wasn't a new rival, it was mom or his sister keeping him up late for
some odd reason or another. That's not even mentioning the rivals
that decided to attack in the middle of the night. *Was eight hours
of sleep a night too much to ask?*
The teacher knew none of this. She only saw a known
problem student ignoring the lesson and decided that an eraser to
the head was the best way to catch his attention.
Just before it hit him, Ranma's hand came up, caught the
eraser, and put it on his desk. Much to the teacher's irritation, he
didn't raise his head the whole time.
The teacher tried a piece of chalk, a textbook, and even a
shoe in rapid succession. Ranma caught them all with ease, though
for some reason he put the shoe on the floor while the rest of the
items went to his desk. In no other way did he act awake. In fact,
the students sitting next to him could hear the sound of his snoring.
"Mr. Saotome! Will you please stop sleeping in my
class?!" the teacher shouted in exasperation.
Everyone watched in surprise as Ranma lifted his head up,
rubbing his eyes as he yawned. "Huh? What did you say?"
"Saotome! Buckets! Hall! Now!" the teacher practically
screamed at him through clenched teeth.
Ranma simply nodded, still feeling a bit sleepy, and
wandered over to the sink to start filling buckets. As he was
making his way to the hall, he noticed that Akane was watching
him again with the same look she had had during lunch. Just like
before, once she noticed him noticing, she turned away in anger.
Ranma just shook his head. He had no idea what that was all
about.
*Some punishment,* Ranma thought as he hefted the
buckets with ease, *I'd rather do this all day than sit in that boring
classroom.*
Ranma was intimately familiar with all the various
punishments that a school could hand out: standing in the hall,
clean up duty, detention, extra school work, and even suspension.
It usually wasn't his fault, but he had learned eventually that
teachers never wanted to hear his side of things. If they saw a
mess and he was involved in some way, then it immediately
became his responsibility. Ranma finally gave up and just took
whatever punishment they gave him without a word. If his parents
didn't care, why should he? It was usually better than school
anyway.
Ranma was surprised to find Kuno running towards him,
buckets in either hand. He was starting to admire the way the
kendoist could spring back from unconsciousness. A normal guy
should have been out for hours from what Ranma had done to him.
He didn't even think that his pop would have recovered so fast.
How many beatings has this guy received that he had gained such a
high immunity to them?
Ranma ignored Kuno's babbling, noticed the open window,
and, with a well-placed kick, sent the older boy outside.
Another boy looked out the window and said, "Wow,
punting him into the pool was a quick way of taking care of him."
"There's a pool?" Ranma asked in surprise.
The other boy face-faulted. "You didn't know there was a
pool? We're on the third floor!"
"So?"
Ranma breathed a sigh of relief as he finally left the
classroom for the day. School, the most boring and pointless part
of his day, was now over. All he wanted to do was go home,
maybe get a little more training in, and spend some time shopping
for ingredients. His mom was letting him cook again tonight and
he already had the meal planned out in his mind. For Ranma, food
was second only to martial arts. He often combined the two,
making cooking into another form of martial arts training, building
katas based around making meals. He loved eating and due to
traveling with a father who couldn't even boil water properly, he
had learned to love cooking. He was a little surprised that cooking
fit his mother's sometimes odd definition of manly. She actually
helped and encouraged his hobby, though he still wished that she
let him cook more often. While his father may have resented the
time this took away from training, Genma often thought with his
stomach first. His son had turned out to be a good cook.
Kuno blocked the exit of the school grounds, bokken at the
ready. He was back in his kendo garb from the morning, possibly
because his school uniform was still wet. Already a sizable crowd,
which Ranma noticed was mostly female for some reason, had
gathered around him.
"Now villain, face the righteous wrath of the Blue
Thunder!"
"Again?" Ranma asked him, exasperated. Usually his rivals
weren't so persistent as to challenge him four times in the same
day. "Weren't the first two beatings I gave you enough?"
The crowd snickered while Kuno seethed. "No man could
have defeated me honorably. You must have beguiled me with
your black magic!"
"What magic?"
Kuno counted off the instances on his fingers. "Before
school, you sent a swarm of angry bees to attack me. At lunch,
you used your mystic powers to hurl me into a wall. And then you
used your sorcery to confuse my mind so you could underhandedly
defenestrate me."
"Uh, what does 'defenestrate' mean?" Ranma asked,
confused.
Kuno had worked himself up into a frenzy so he wasn't
exactly listening at this point. "Die, sorcerer!"
Needless to say, the fight lasted about as long as the others.
Ranma was smiling as he entered the Saotome home.
School wasn't so bad once he got used to it. Fighting a regular
opponent besides his pop might be nice, even if Kuno wasn't at his
level. Ranma could use him to try out some new moves before he
surprised his father with them. Kuno might make an interesting
moving practice dummy, like all of those steam-powered robots
that one girl had attacked him with once. Never did really find out
what her problem was. Ranma could already picture one of those
robots in kendo garb, rolling around clumsily wielding a bokken,
and shouting stupid things like 'die sorcerer' and 'you fiend.'
The boys would probably still be glaring at him for a while,
but they seemed reluctant to attack him for now. Might be all the
beatings that they've seen him give Kuno. From experience,
Ranma guessed that soon they would gang together and attack him
all at once. When that failed, they'd resort to something
underhanded. Ranma had already gone through this sort of thing a
dozen times or more. He wasn't worried, in fact it would prove
more interesting than his classes.
That was about the only thing Ranma had found that was
really negative about school. Why do they have to make those
classes so boring? Math he understood, sort of. It helped him to
figure some things out, thinking out problems in mathematical
terms. He had used it to win sparring matches against his father.
But the other stuff? Why did he need to study literature? Ranma
didn't plan on writing any books. And history? He wasn't going to
be a historian.
The other girls at school were already starting to make him
edgy. This was not unfamiliar ground for Ranma; it had been
something that's been happening since middle school. It wouldn't
half as bad if it weren't for all of his mom's 'suggestions.'
Then there was Akane. He just couldn't figure that girl out.
First, she tried to pound him for no reason, then she blamed him
for being late when it was all Kuno's fault. She watched him
during lunch and class, but when Ranma noticed, she turned away
like she was mad at him for noticing.
"Welcome home, son," Nodoka said to Ranma, dusting off
her hands as she entered the room. She was all dressed up in her
cleaning outfit, with a big yellow apron and gloves that went to her
elbows. She even wore a handkerchief around her head. For some
reason, she had decided that today was the day that she had to
clean out the attic. Ranma didn't mind that much; it meant that
he'd have to cook since his mom didn't have time to. "How was
your day at school?"
"Fine, mom, wasn't as boring as I thought it would be." In
Ranma's experience, school was normally duller than watching
golf on television.
"I bet a lot of cute girls go to Furinkan High," Nodoka told
him with a smile and a wink.
Ranma sighed, but not loud enough for his mother to hear.
*Why can't she get off my case about this?* he thought. She was
always pushing him to be more 'manly' and do 'manly' things,
which to her usually meant doing something with girls. Looking at
girls, talking to girls, writing notes to girls, peeping at girls, going
on dates with girls, even trying to kiss girls. And no matter what
he did, it was never enough for her. If Ranma did something his
mom suggested to get her off his case, she'd just suggest something
else right after, which usually ten times as worse as the previous
one. He found it best just to agree to whatever she said and then
ignore it.
Many times Ranma had decided enough was enough and he
was going to tell his mother exactly what he thought about being
'manly.' He'd march right up to her, look her right in the eye, and
completely lose his nerve. It was the same with his pop and all of
his weird training ideas. He wanted to tell the old man off, but his
just couldn't. Ranma just couldn't disappoint his parents. They
both meant too much to him, no matter what crazy ideas they
sometimes came up with.
"Yeah, I guess there are cute girls there," Ranma finally
answered his mother.
"Oh, my manly son!" Nodoka declared and swept him up
into a big hug.
*She's probably thinking that I was peeping on them or
something,* Ranma thought. He also realized that he had another
reason to change out of his uniform. Not only didn't it fit right, but
now he was covered in dust.
"Say, where's Hitomi?" Ranma changed the subject as he
disengaged himself from his mother's embrace. He had no
problem with his mom hugging him, he just wished she didn't do it
when she was so dusty. Ranma didn't inquire about his father, who
worked as an instructor at a local dojo. It surprised Ranma that his
pop was doing so well that they asked him to teach extra classes.
Personally, he didn't think his father was that good a sensei.
Genma only got home sometime before dinner. No amount of
money would ever make him late for meals.
"Don't you remember? Your sister's juku started today.
She should be home soon."
Ranma nodded. His little sister Hitomi had proven to be a
genius in elementary school, so his parents, at Nodoka's insistence,
had sent her to an expensive private school called St. Herbeke
Academy. The main reason his father had taken the extra
workload was to pay for the school and the juku she had just
started. Nothing was too good for daddy's little girl. Hitomi had
firmly wrapped her father around her finger by age five.
Hitomi had just gotten home by the time Ranma had come
back down from his room after changing into his Chinese-style red
shirt and black pants. He'd never actually been to China, in fact he
bought his clothes from a small shop in the local Chinatown, but
for some reason he just felt right when he was wearing them.
Anything else looked wrong on him for some reason.
Ranma's little sister was thirteen and in many ways
resembled a younger version of Nodoka, though Hitomi choose to
wear her auburn hair long. Her eyes were a deep blue and always
opened wide in childish innocence, which was sometimes a ruse.
She was still in her private school uniform, which resembled a
business suit. It was supposed to make the student appear more
grown up, but had the opposite effect on Hitomi, who, being a late
bloomer, looked a year or two younger than her actual age. A
source of constant irritation to the girl. It didn't help that her
brother frequently teased her about it.
"I'm home!" Hitomi announced, slamming the door behind
her.
"Hi, sis," Ranma said to her, meeting her in the living
room. "Mom is upstairs cleaning the attic."
Hitomi blink-blinked in surprise. Her mother hadn't told
her anything about cleaning the attic. Why would she want to do
that now of all times?
"I don't know why she's doing it either," Ranma told her,
guessing the question in his little sister's look. Despite their more
than occasional fights, Ranma and Hitomi were close siblings who
could often hold whole conversations by reading the expression of
the other.
Hitomi just shrugged. They both knew that their mother
was strange and often did things for no apparent reason. With both
of their parents like that, they'd gotten used to it over the years.
"So how was you day at your new school, big brother? Get
into any fights?"
Hitomi knew that wherever Ranma went, trouble followed.
She still remembered the time when an entire circus troupe from
Russia had attacked him because their father had eaten all of their
caviar and drank all of their vodka. They pounded Genma too, but
he was too drunk at that point to feel anything.
"Four," Ranma answered honestly.
"All on the first day? Wow, that must be some kind of
record for you," she teased. Hitomi loved her brother, but for some
reason they found that teasing each other was the best way to show
their affection.
Ranma shrugged. The only one who cared if he got into
fights in school was his mom and she was only worried that they
might force him to transfer schools again.
"They were all with the same guy. He just couldn't accept
the fact the I beat him."
"Can't accept his losses?" Hitomi said with a small smile.
"Sounds like someone I know."
Ranma knew exactly what she was talking about. "Hey, I'll
beat you next time. Your luck can't hold out forever."
"It takes more skill than luck to win at shogi. Skill that you
are sorely lacking, big brother."
Ranma pouted. It had all started two years ago when the
whole Saotome family had gone to the fair. Genma had insisted
that the rigged games would be good training and so Ranma tried
his hand at every contest they had. And he won, every time, never
taking more than three tries. On the way home his arms were filled
with so many prizes that he could barely see above them, while his
mother carried the fish.
So Ranma, his confidence at its peak, declared that there
was no game he couldn't win. Hitomi, who had been eyeing some
of the stuffed animals with appreciation, challenged him to a game
of her choosing. She insisted that Ranma wager all of his prizes,
while she would do his homework for a month. Ranma would
have just given her the stuffed animals at least, he certainly didn't
want them, but not having to do homework (and actually getting
better grades in it) was too tempting an offer to pass up.
Ranma knew that she would pick a non-physical game.
Hitomi was in good shape, but she wasn't a martial artist nor had
any interest in becoming one. He hadn't really been expecting a
board game though, especially one that he had never played before.
Hitomi gave her brother a fair chance, giving him a shogi
rulebook and 24 hours to prepare himself. She even increased the
odds in his favor by making it whoever wins two out of three
games. In the end, it hadn't mattered.
Ranma had never lost so quickly in his life. He lost the
first two in under five minutes. Hitomi even allowed those to be
practice games as Ranma had insisted. So they played, and played,
and played. Three hours later, Ranma still hadn't won a single
game, while Hitomi had not only won all of his prizes one by one,
but half the contents of Ranma's room and a contract for a month's
servitude besides.
Ranma might have been able to deal with his loss by
simply forgetting that it had happened. Only his little sister had
decided not to let him overlook his humiliation. Hitomi never
missed an opportunity to remind Ranma of his failure. She had
ample occasions to do this for the month that Ranma was
answerable to her every whim.
Hitomi had made the most of her month. She had suddenly
decided that her room was much too messy and would have to be
cleaned every single day. Hitomi, who was normally very neat,
had become a slob overnight. No matter how hard Ranma worked
at cleaning, there was always even more work the next day. She
also decided that all of her meals had to be served by Ranma, while
she lay in bed. Her strength seemed to be waning so Ranma would
have to hand feed her. He would also have to carry her anywhere
she wanted to go. Hitomi suddenly had the need to be in a
different place every five minutes, usually on the opposite side of
the house. Nothing he ever did for her was good enough on the
first try, he would have to attempt something at least ten times
before she was satisfied. Every time he complained, glared, or
raised his voice to her, she would pointedly remind Ranma that this
was all because he was horrible at shogi.
Ranma spent the month after his indentured servitude in
intense shogi training. He studied the rulebook until he knew
every word by heart. He played a dozens of games against himself
each day. He started to go to watch matches, studying the
technique of the people who won. He played against his father, but
stopped after he never lost. It was clear that pop was an even
worse shogi player than he was, even when Genma cheated, which
was often.
At the end of the month, Ranma felt that he was ready and
challenged his little sister to a rematch. Ranma bet another month
of slavery, while Hitomi put up all of Ranma's things that she had
won previously. They played for two hours and Ranma still hadn't
won a single game. Ranma was still determined to win at least
once, but he had run out of things to bet. Hitomi now had the
entire contents of his room, along with two months of his complete
obedience. Ranma had to sleep on the floor in a bare room and
answer to his little sister whenever she called.
What did their parents think of all this? Genma thought it
was good training, while Nodoka thought it was manly for Ranma
to be so nice to his sister.
Hitomi eventually took pity on her brother. She gave him
some of his things back and didn't work him as hard as she had
before. But she still didn't let him forget about his loss though.
For two years now he occasionally challenged her in shogi and
Ranma had yet to win a game against her.
Nodoka, alerted by the door slam, came back down from
the attic to greet her daughter.
Hitomi managed to get out a "Hi, mom" before she was
swept up in a bone-crushing hug. Nodoka was even dustier than
before so now there was a second uniform that needed to be
laundered.
"How was your new juku today, dear?" Nodoka asked her
daughter after releasing her from her hug. It seemed that Nodoka
was just as worried about Hitomi's 'womanliness' as she was over
her son's 'manliness', though the qualifications for each were in
many ways exact opposites. Ranma's mom seemed to think that all
women should be intelligent, frail, domestic, and cultured. He
often wondered about the 'frail' bit, since his mother was anything
but.
Ranma snickered when he saw Hitomi's look of horror at
the state of her new uniform, now with big splotches of dust
covering it. His sister was definitively a neat freak and treated
most dirt as an almost personal affront. Ranma had found out the
hard way that teasing her about this was not a good idea. In
revenge for a mud pie in the face, Hitomi had convinced their
father that Ranma had been slacking off and that some more
advanced training techniques were needed. Getting attacked by an
angry hive of bees had not been fun, even if he picked up a new
technique in the end; his face had stayed swollen for a week. His
sister was normally a sweet girl, but if you had something she
wanted or ticked her off, watch out. Ranma found that it was just
too much fun to tease her though.
Seeing Hitomi's eyes narrow at his almost-laugh, Ranma
decided that it was time to be somewhere else for while. "I guess
I'll go shopping for dinner now."
"Oh Ranma, you don't need to go to so much trouble,"
Nodoka told him. "Why don't you just make something simple
from what we already have here? You don't always have to cook
such elaborate things."
Ranma did not want to stay under the same roof as his
sister when she had that gleam her eye, especially after the day that
he had already had. "It's no trouble, mom. I already have dinner
all planned out anyway, there's just a few things that I need to pick
up."
"All right then. And if you meet a girl on the way, just call
home and I'll just order takeout. Better yet, why not bring her
home and impress her with your manly cooking!"
Ranma decided to flee his home before his mom could
come up with any more of her suggestions.
Ranma whistled as he walked down the street, grocery bag
in one hand, shopping list in the other. All of the events of the day
had faded into the background as he concentrated on the task ahead
of him. Namely, getting the right ingredients for the dinner that he
had planned tonight.
He wasn't surprised when he ran into a familiar young
woman shopping for her own meal.
Ranma had met Kasumi a few months ago when he'd
literally ran into her, sending her purchases all over the ground,
along with Kasumi herself. It was one of the more embarrassing
moments of his life. Ranma apologized profusely and quickly
picked up all of her things as he helped her up.
To his surprise, the woman, who was tall with long brown
hair, wasn't even angry. She was more amused than anything else
with all of his bowing and mumbled apologies. Ranma offered
many things in order to make up for what he had done, but
eventually she talked him down to carrying her groceries for her.
"Are you shopping for your mother?" Kasumi asked him
suddenly, breaking the silence that had hung between them as they
made their way to the next store.
"Huh?" Ranma replied, surprised by the question.
She smiled a little and said, "The groceries, I mean. I saw
some of the things in your bag. Your mother must be an
interesting cook."
"Actually, they're for me. Well, they're for my whole
family. What I mean is, I'm shopping because I'm doing the
cooking tonight," Ranma replied a bit nervously.
"You cook?" Surprise was evident in Kasumi's voice.
Ranma nodded. "I really like to, but my mother only lets
me about once a week. She says that I should be spending my time
on other things."
He decided not to say that what his mother wanted him to
spend time on was peeping and going out on dates. Ranma knew
from experience that just saying those things to a woman would
earn him a slap in the face. He distinctly remembered an incident
in middle school involving an old scroll his mom had found among
his pop's master's things. That had taught him just how violent a
girl could get.
Ranma stopped walking when he noticed that Kasumi was
just standing there. She was looking at him, yet her eyes seemed
focused on something else.
"It's not that big a deal," he told her.
Kasumi looked a bit embarrassed. "I was just surprised,
that's all," she said and started to walk again. "Not many boys take
an interest in cooking, especially at your age."
"My age? Come on, you can't be that much older than me.
I'm going to be starting high school in a few months."
"Oh really? You must be about the same age as my sister
then. I'm a few years older than her."
"So?" Ranma wondered why this woman thought that a
few years made any difference. His little sister was three years
younger than him, but she acted more adult than he did, most of the
time anyway. "Do a few years matter so much?"
"No, I suppose not," Kasumi replied after a moment and
started on her way again, Ranma following closely behind.
"Hello, Ranma-kun," Kasumi greeted him warmly as she
walked up to him. She was wearing a conservative house dress as
always, but Ranma had noticed that her newer clothes seemed to fit
her figure better. Probably because she wasn't worried about
growing out of them anymore. He also thought he detected a hint
of makeup and perfume, but shrugged it off; he'd been seeing it
everywhere since his sister had become interested in them. No one
as practical as Kasumi would get all dressed up for the market.
Maybe she planned on Dr. Tofu afterwards? The doctor did seem
interested in her and she was very nice to him.
"Hello, Kasumi. How are you today?" Ranma asked as he
fell into step with her.
Kasumi and Ranma already had a familiar pattern going.
They would chat about cooking or minor things in their lives as
they traveled to all of their favorite stores, looking over the food,
comparing quality and prices.
"I'm doing well. Your advice on that American dish was
very helpful. Even I was surprised on how well it turned out."
Ranma hung his head, feeling a little embarrassed. He
wasn't used to be praised by anyone but his mom. He hadn't really
told Kasumi that much, just something he had noticed when
making the dish himself. Kasumi was really a much better cook
than he was, even though he had only sampled some of her
cookies. She just knew so much more about cooking than he did
and she'd given him advice on dozens of occasions already.
Ranma didn't feel that he deserved to be praised when Kasumi
knew so much.
"What do you plan to cook tonight?" Kasumi asked, which
was another part of their ritual. Neither felt completely
comfortable with other people, so they had found that discussing
what they planned on making that night was a good way to ease the
tension. When they had begun this, it was usually Ranma who had
asked first. Now it was usually Kasumi.
"This Thai dish that I found in a magazine. It sounded
interesting enough."
Genma did not approve of his son reading cooking
magazines, so Ranma had to hide them under his bed and skim
them by flashlight. His mom didn't mind though. She seemed
delighted that time that she had caught him at it. Why she was so
happy he'd never know. There was no way she could have seen
what sort of magazine it was.
"Oh, you must tell me how it comes out, and even let me
borrow the recipe sometime. I don't know if my father would like
something like that though."
"That's not a problem for me. My pop will eat anything.
Only my kid sister is a picky eater, but then she likes Thai food."
Kasumi laughed a little. "From the way you describe him,
it sounds that your father would eat rocks if they were prepared
properly."
"I doubt even he would be able to stomach some of those
horrors that you told me your sister makes though."
They both laughed at that. Neither talked about their
family much unless it had something to do with food. For Ranma,
it was his father's appetite. For Kasumi, it was her sister's
complete lack of skill in the kitchen. Stories about either had made
for some amusing moments. But for some reason, Kasumi never
mentioned her sisters by name. Every time he asked, she changed
the subject. Ranma decided that if Kasumi wanted to keep it a
secret then he wasn't going to pry. He did wonder about it though,
since Kasumi normally seemed so open and honest.
"So what are you going to cook tonight?" Ranma asked.
Ranma listened on enthralled as Kasumi described in detail
the numerous little touches she was going to make to a meal that
would have been fairly normal otherwise.
Ranma and Kasumi's cooking style were very different, as
much as Ranma could surmise from what she had told him. He
usually chose exotic dishes which he would prepare as if they were
a martial arts kata. In some ways, he was as much into the
presentation as the food itself.
Kasumi, however, would take an ordinary dish and make it
extraordinary by adding so many little improvements that it hardly
resembled the recipe at all. She calmly prepared meals, believing
that the food should stand on its own.
Ranma had once tried cooking Kasumi's way. The results
had been a disaster. Not even his pop had eaten it. When he told
Kasumi about this, she said that every cook had his or her own
individual style and that one should cook the way one feels, not
copying the methods of others.
"So how was your new school?" Kasumi asked him.
Ranma had mentioned last time they had met that he'd been
forcibly transferred because one of his rivals had wrecked the gym.
Kasumi always seemed very amused by the things that happened to
Ranma, but she never teased or blamed him for them. She was
actually one of the few people that was sympathetic to Ranma's
problems.
Ranma shook his head. Even he had a hard time believing
what had happened to him at school. "I had to get up even earlier
to practice and catch the train, but that wasn't so bad. When I get
to school there's a mob of boys attacking this one girl. So I jump
in and help her out, even though, to be honest, she was doing okay
by herself. So after all the boys are knocked out, she turns on me.
Now I can see her making the mistake that I was one of the boys
trying to attack her, but when I told her that I didn't want to fight
her, she actually got madder.
"So she's attacking me for a while and I'm basically
dodging and wondering how to end this without hitting her. Then
this kendo guy strides across the school yard like he owns the place
and stops the fight."
"Well that was a good thing," Kasumi commented as she
turned away from Ranma and checked the ripeness of some
vegetables.
Ranma shook his head. "No, not really, since he
challenged me to fight him right after. This guy might have been a
challenge a year ago, but today he just made me late for class.
That would have been okay since I'd rather lift buckets than sit
through boring lectures. Only the girl from the morning was there
too and was blaming me for us being late."
"Ranma, you should really try harder in school. How do
you expect to pass the entrance exams and get into a good college
if you don't pay attention to the lessons? Still, it was that other
boy's fault for your being late. I also think that girl was partially to
blame for fighting you in the first place."
Ranma didn't quite understand why Kasumi was so
insistent that he make the most of his education. She took it almost
as a personal affront when he purposefully slacked off. If she
didn't go to college despite how well she did in school, why should
he? Ranma realized that that could be the very reason, along with
Kasumi's supportive nature. She was a true friend, always wanting
what was best for him, even if Ranma didn't want it himself.
"The jerk wasn't satisfied with the first time I beat him. He
kept insisting that I used some sort of black magic to cheat him of
his victory. I think this guy is a few bokkens short of a kendo
team. He tried to fight me three more times, but it only got easier
to beat him. I can understand wanting to be the best, but you
should at least train more before attacking a superior opponent
again."
"Oh, did anything else interesting happen?" Kasumi asked,
smiling slightly in amusement.
Ranma decided not to tell Kasumi about the hostile looks
that girl Akane had been throwing him, nor about the way that the
girls had been all giving him googly eyes. It seemed that Kasumi
didn't like it at all when other girls acted improperly around him.
Ranma knew that she would never act that way.
"Well, I sort of fell asleep in class," he admitted,
embarrassed.
"Ranma!"
"I didn't mean to. I'm still adjusting to waking up earlier,
that's all. Besides, this wouldn't happen if the teacher's lessons
weren't so boring."
"You really should try harder, Ranma," she scolded him
gently, though her tone was more exasperated and amused than
angry.
"I know, Kasumi, I'm sorry," Ranma always felt bad when
Kasumi was disappointed in him.
"It's okay, Ranma. I'm sure that you'll try harder next
time."
Now back in the Saotome home, Ranma sought out the
kitchen and started to set up for the meal that he had planned. His
father was home, making some headway on the evening paper,
while his sister was upstairs on her computer yet again. Ever since
she had gotten that thing months ago, she had spent several hours a
day on it. Ranma didn't really understand computers himself.
Hitomi had tried to teach Ranma how to use her Mac (which
Ranma thought was a pretty silly name for a computer), but was
forced to give up in sheer frustration. Ranma laughed a little at
that. His sister tried to make herself look like little miss perfect,
but she did have quite a temper, inherited from their father.
His mother had finished cleaning the attic and was now
going through the many things that they had stored there.
"Oh, Ranma?" Nodoka called her son from upstairs.
"Yeah, mom?"
"After dinner, could you help be bring some of the boxes
from the attic to the basement and out to the trash?"
Ranma had already had such a long day that he had actually
considered turning in earlier than he normally did. "Why can't you
get pops to do it?"
"Now, Ranma, you know that your father works hard all
day."
Ranma snorted. It was hard to imagine his lazy father
working hard on anything. Ranma agreed to help, wondering
again why his mother was cleaning out the attic. For as long as he
could remember, it had been a place of cobwebs and boxes, to store
things when you wanted to forget about them. Ranma shook his
head, he should be worrying about tonight's dinner instead.
The recipe was pretty straightforward, if a little unusual. It
called for combinations of foods that Ranma wasn't used to using
together, but he didn't mind experimenting. It ended up being well
received; pops patted his stomach in appreciation and Hitomi had a
rare showing of the Saotome appetite, one that would be fun to
tease her about later. Ranma smiled slightly in satisfaction, having
done something that he knew was appreciated, even by his father.
Ranma spent the remainder of the evening moving boxes
around for his mom. He complained about it a little, but it was
really only for show. He actually liked physical activity where he
didn't have to think. He felt so relaxed that the day once receded to
the back of his mind. The monotonous work and gotten him into
such a state of peace that it was easy for him to fall asleep that
night and not worry about what he might have to face tomorrow.