Chapter Text
“With a swing like that, it’s a wonder why you aren’t stuck on the baseball team.” Nabiki poked the unconscious boy with her shoe. He slumped back on the floor without any support. There was probably a bump on the back of his head too from how hard Akane swung at him. “Do you even know who this guy is?”
“How should I know?” huffed Akane. “He was running right at me! I thought he was one of Kuno’s perverts.”
“So your instinct is to whack him? Good going there, sis,” snarked Nabiki. She rolled the boy over with her foot and didn’t recognize that face whatsoever. He at least wasn’t one of the guys buying pictures from her. He also probably wasn’t a student at their school considering he was wearing some fancy silk stuff.
“Oh my,” Kasumi gasped. She hurried over to the boy and checked him over. “Akane, can you go fetch the first aid kit? It should still be in the dojo from the last time you used it.”
“On it.” Though not enthused to be doing it, Akane hurried over toward the dojo before she could get caught up in an argument with Nabiki. A shame really, getting her frustrated really primed her for a long workout.
Oh well, Nabiki would just have to turn her attention to the boy. Kasumi didn’t need to give him a full checkup to know he might have a concussion. Hopefully not since that would be a pain. Whether it was just caring for the guy or getting Doctor Tofu to do a home visit without going off the wall, Nabiki did not have the time or energy for it. Especially not when Kasumi wouldn’t let her extort the guy for whatever he used up.
“So, who’s the hunk? Some friend of yours that I’ve never seen around?” Nabiki hooked her school bag up and watched as Kasumi gingerly examined the bump on the boy’s head.
“His name is Ranma,” Kasumi paused. “Yes, that Ranma. Please do not drive him off before giving him a chance. He already doesn’t want to be here.” Kasumi carefully set his head down. He seemed fine, breathing steady too. There was just a small bump around his hairline that was doing his face no favors in the looks department.
“If he doesn’t want to be here, then why keep him around? It’s not like we need another martial artist to feed around here.” Had Kasumi been anyone else, Nabiki would have caught her rolling her eyes. Instead, Kasumi tried to adjust the boy so his backpack wouldn’t be in the way of him laying down. “Unless… don’t tell me you’ve grown attached to him already.” Nabiki held up a hand to her mouth, scandalized by the prospect.
“He’s merely a guest in our house. I’m treating him with the respect that I would for any other guest.” But that wasn’t the full truth, was it? Nabiki couldn’t divine Kasumi’s true thoughts, but Ranma certainly wasn’t just a guest.
He was a prospective fiancé to any one of the three sisters. He could be ticket to Akane securing and running the dojo the way she wanted or the chain holding Nabiki down to Nerima. What he meant to Kasumi was a bit vague to the middle sister. Although she would guess it was duty and honor at most. Some surety in having a husband that didn’t forget every skill he had when the love of his life was in sight.
But if he couldn’t see that attack from Akane coming, then he wasn’t good enough to be Nabiki’s guard dog. So Kasumi or Akane could have him as far as Nabiki was concerned.
Approving of her own logic, Nabiki turned on her heel and headed for her room. “Try not to have too much fun with your new boy toy. Walls are thin.”
If Kasumi took that in good humor or was blushing at the insinuation, Nabiki couldn’t tell. Her sister kept her back to her and focused on tending to the boy. Oh well, Nabiki would poke whichever pair ended up being engaged later.
Akane barreled back into the hallway with a thick first aid kit. She plopped it right next to the boy’s head and reached for the two clasps keeping it sealed. Before she could pop it open, blue eyes fluttered to life and blearily took in the surroundings.
“Wha hap’en,” mumbled the pigtailed boy. He sat up and clutched his head with one hand, fingers just centimeters away from the small bump on the crown of his head.
Swift as ever, Kasumi filled him in. “You ran into Akane here and she gave you a good whack on the head. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like there’s any bad damage if you woke up this fast, but we should probably apply some ointment just in case.” Kasumi motioned toward Akane and the youngest sister hurried to fetch the appropriate ointment.
“Hold still. This might sting a bit,” Akane warned just seconds before she smeared the paste over the boy’s forehead. He squirmed as her cold fingers rubbed the ointment but remained remarkably still otherwise. He didn’t even flinch when she first touched the slight swelling. “Sorry about hitting you earlier. I just saw a boy running at me and reacted.”
“S’alright,” he said. The moment her hands were off him, he was getting back up to his feet and adjusting his bulky backpack. “I’ve taken way stronger hits than that. Should all heal up in thirty even without that stuff.” He grinned and turned to the door. “Thanks for patchin’ me up though. See ya!”
The boy sprinted for the door and threw it open so he could bound far away. In the same breath, Kasumi rushed to her feet and tried to grab his arm but the boy was too fast. Akane was only half-sure she could grab the boy herself if she tried, but she had no idea that the boy was going to bolt the moment he was in the clear.
So, Kasumi resorted to the one thing that would reach him. “Ranma! Please wait!” she cried out. The boy twisted around on his next step, standing in the door frame. “Are you sure you should be leaving? Why don’t you stay until the rain clears up?”
The boy—whose name was Ranma apparently—stared outside at the storm still going on. It has remained near constant since Akane’s gym period started, which was a horrible surprise when she was wearing an already skimpy uniform. She was lucky that Nabiki carried a small umbrella with her no matter the weather, allowing both of them to remain mostly dry on the way home.
Somewhere in that big backpack had to be an umbrella. Maybe even a tarp for the boy to hold over his head. Yet he hesitated. He looked at the rain, then the Tendou sisters, and then back at the damned rain. His hands dropped to his sides and hung limply. “Just ‘till tha rain clears,” he proposed in a mumble.
“Just until the rain clears,” Kasumi agreed. She beckoned him back in, urging the stray to come inside before the storm worsened. Begrudgingly, he slipped inside. His feet glided cross the hardwood without a sound.
Akane watched Kasumi and Ranma slowly pad into the washitsu closest to the garden. The boy dropped down at the table, not daring to tuck himself into the kotatsu. Meanwhile, Kasumi checked the kettle, sloshing the warm water around before deciding to bring it back to the kitchen with her. She was probably making tea for her guest, who definitely didn’t talk like someone she would expect Kasumi to interact with.
Really, Akane had no clue how Kasumi knew this guy. He was a martial artist and clearly traveled around, so the two of them wouldn’t exactly run into each other very often. Maybe they bumped into each other in the market and Kasumi invited him home? But that didn’t explain why he would be in such a rush to leave.
It’s not like they had anything to be embarrassed about. They were just two friends with very disproportional hobbies spending time with each other. Maybe this Ranma guy was secretly a tea enthusiast and could commiserate with Kasumi where Akane and Nabiki had trouble doing so.
“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” Ranma pierced through her train of thought, derailing it before it could venture off into spaces completely unrelated.
Akane focused and looked at Ranma’s face instead of his general vicinity. “Just thinking about stuff, sorry. I didn’t mean to space out.” Stepping into the washitsu, Akane shuffled a little closer. Deciding that rehearsing for the play could wait a little while, she scooted herself down into the warmth of the kotatsu. “So how’s a guy like you know my sister?”
Ranma sniped a glance at Kasumi through the curtains cutting off the kitchen. “Dunno. Why’d a girl like you end up whacking whoever’s gonna bump inta ya?”
“That’s… a long story,” she admitted. Just the thought of all those perverts made her stomach churn. If she thought about them long enough, she could probably vomit on command. “A really long story.”
Ranma gestured outside. Rain continued to batter down on Nerika, drenching anyone unlucky enough to be caught by the storm. “I got time.” He shrugged. “Betcha it’s some cool martial arts challenge that made ya real strong. Can’t get those kinda arms without some real good trainin’.”
Akane rested said arms on the table so she could prop her head on her hand. “I wouldn’t really call it training. It’s not exactly structured or focusing on any specific techniques.” Unless one counting repeatedly hitting idiots every single day training. That was just a regular day at school at this point. “Fighting those guys is just… exercise at this point. Like how you do stretches or katas. It’s just a warm up.”
“Sounds like a pretty good challenge ta me. Hard ta really get good group fightin’ trainin’ out on the road.” Ranma looked in her general direction, but it was rather obvious he was reminiscing about something else. “Pops tried a few times. Never really got it right. The guys we were runnin’ from were all uncoordinated, not workin’ together to take advantage of their numbers, you know?”
“Yeah,” Akane sighed. “Those perverts just want to wear me down so they can get a lucky hit in. It’s not even that tiring anymore.” She could maybe do it in her sleep. She’s definitely down it half-asleep before on nights where she stayed up studying or training for one reason or another.
“Sounds like some decent trainin’ ta me. Sure, it’s not much of a work out no more, but it’s gotta keep your skills sharp. I bet yer way more aware of stuff thanks to it.” That was… an interesting point. Akane couldn’t really say she was considering how long it took her to pick up Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics so she could sub in for her classmates. Although that was partially due to the way the tools were being utilized. It was very different from kendo, that was for sure.
“I guess.” She eventually shrugged, deciding not to dwell on there being any positive impact of Kunou’s scheme. “You’ve probably studied a bunch of different schools that I’ve never even heard of.” There must have been better things than Martial Arts Ice Skating and Tea Ceremony out there.
Ranma made a so-so gesture. “I dabbled in stuff. Anything Goes picks up what’s useful and adapts it, so I prolly couldn’t teach stuff like Martial Arts Sewin’ no more.”
“Martial Arts Sewing?” Akane smiled incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Hey, those needles hurt real bad!” Ranma flung his hands in the air, but the smile on his face betrayed any notion of annoyance. If Akane didn’t know any better, he was just as happy as she was to start talking about esoteric martial arts. “Plus, s'all ‘bout precision so you gotta-”
“I’m home!” called out a bellowing voice.
“Welcome home!”
Souun gravitated toward Kasumi’s voice. From the sound of it, she was in the kitchen since the rain had probably driven her inside. Or maybe he was later getting home than he thought. He may have gotten a little distracted arguing against using an empty lot to build a new fast food place.
But who could really blame him? Just a week ago, Akane was fighting that gymnast girl in that lot. Sure, the two moved the fight around the street once it really got started. That was just how rivals go about it. Souun should know. He and Saotome once had to contend with this guy and his yatai going up and down the coast. But that was neither here nor there now. He and Saotome defeated him, won an all-you-can-eat seafood dinner, and moved on to the next leg of their journey.
Ah, he missed those good old days. It was a much simpler time. He found food, acquired shelter for the night, and fell asleep looking into bright blue eyes. If only Saotome was here now, but it had been months since the postcard had arrived. Hope could only stretch so far before denial reared its ugly head.
“Evening, Kasumi,” Souun greeted as he entered the washitsu. He shuffled across the tatami mats and sat himself down at his usual spot facing the yard. “Evening, Akane. Evening, stranger I’ve never met before.”
“Hello, Father.” Kasumi walked out of the kitchen with a steaming pot of tea. She wasted no time in pouring a cup for those present.
“Hi, Daddy,” Akane said quietly. Her gaze drifted over to the stranger before turning down to the ground in what could only be embarrassment. But why would she ever be embarrassed by her own father? She was his pride and joy.
“Uh hey?” The boy raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between Souun’s two daughters. “Yer Mister Tendou? Issat right?”
“That would be me.” Souun gave the boy a once-over. His being there was admittedly odd, but Akane had a whole host of odd classmates around recently, each appearing to dabble in some sport mixed with a martial art. One dressed Chinese silks definitely was among the oddest of the bunch. “Who might you be, lad?”
In the blink of an eye, the boy was bowing on the ground, forehead against the mats. “Name’s Saotome Ranma of the Saotome School of Anything Goes. I heard you aren’t taking students, but I’ve traveled all across China since I heard of your dojo. Please, take me as your student!”
“Ranma…” Souun swept the boy up into his arms, embracing him with all the strength left in his body. “You’re finally here! The schools can be reunited at last.” His and Saotome’s old dream will finally come true. Their families would be united by blood once and for all. Oh, it’s enough to bring a tear to the eye.
“Wait, you’re that Saotome Ranma?” Akane shouted over the ambient sound of the dojo. “So that’s why you’re here. You want the dojo!”
“The heck are you on about?” Ranma sounded oddly strained for some reason. The butt of his palm slammed into Souun’s jaw, pushing away his loving hug. “And would ya stop cryin’ all over me? It’s gross!” With a harder shove, Ranma pushed Souun away.
Blinking rapidly, Souun felt a wet plaster coating his cheeks. Rubbing at his face, he cleared up the flood of tears by smearing it on the sleeves of his dougi instead. For some reason, that made the boy grimace. But surely he understood the versatility and durability of a man’s sacred dougi. Really, it was all a martial artist needed.
Akane clenched her fists, arms resting on the table. “You can’t fool me. You’re here for that stupid engagement. Well it’s not happening so you can go hit the road again, Saotome!”
“The hell would I wanna be engaged for?” Ranma shouted back at her. “I’m sixteen, there’s no way I’m gettin’ hitched to some chick I barely know. ‘specially not some macho girl like you.”
“Macho?” Akane repeated, scandalized. “I wouldn’t want to marry someone who can’t even bother to look where he’s going anyway!”
“I had other things on my mind. ‘sides I came here for ta train, nothin’ else.” The boy huffed and crossed his arms. He was closing himself off from Akane, Souun’s heir.
Which meant… the schools couldn’t be united. The two martial arts couldn’t be combined if the two halves couldn’t work together. But how could this be? Souun worked together flawlessly with his old friend, no matter the challenge posed to them.
Where was that unity? He had hoped the two would sharpen each other like the waves hone the rock, shaping it into peerless form. One would be the yin to the other’s yang, perfecting each other into one unstoppable team. Just Souun and Genma.
“The schools…”
“Can it!” Akane and Ranma shouted in unison. “Don’t copy me!” They shouted again, only causing them to scowl at each other. “Stop it!”
“Now, now. There’s no need to fight so much.” Ever the peacekeeper, Kasumi gently pushed the two apart from each other. Setting two teacups in front of them did little to stop their scowling but at least their barbs came to a halt. “Akane, no one said you had to be the one to take up the engagement. Any Tendou could marry Ranma to fulfill both of our families’ honor.”
“It better not be me,” mumbled Akane. She was appeased for the moment at least. Not enough to spark any love between her and Ranma, but Souun could hold out hope. He and Saotome were thick as thieves under their wretched master. The next generation would be blessedly ignorant of his perversions.
“It doesn’t have to be,” Kasumi repeated. Then she turned to Ranma, who already deflated without someone to bark back against him. “Ranma, this may be an honor-bound agreement, but we do not need to fulfill it now. It can be pushed off for our kids if need be.”
“But the schools…”
Kasumi whipped around to pin Souun down with her usually pleasant smile. Now, it seemed filled with all the disappointment she would have for a child with their hand in the cookie jar. “The schools can be joined later,” she stressed, “right, Father?”
“R-right. Of course.” Souun tugged the collar of his dougi. Had his eldest always been capable of that? “But perhaps we could arrange for Ranma to-”
“The schools can be joined later,” Kasumi repeated harshly, “can’t they, Father?”
“But I’ve been waiting-” Another round of glares burst Souun’s bubble. At this rate, the schools might not be joined until he had grandchildren. “Fine. The engagement can be put on hold, but we are coming back to this. It’s a matter of honor for all of us.”
“Of course, Father. We can all discuss this when we’re all level headed and know each other better.” Thankfully, those words were directed more at Akane and Ranma than Souun.
“I ain’t here ta get hitched,” Ranma muttered curtly. He looked away from them and instead eyed the rain outside.
“Fine by me.” Akane adamantly met her older sister’s gaze, challenging her on the matter. Perhaps even trying to get Kasumi to take on the engagement. “I don’t plan on getting married to some two-faced jerk anyway.”
“Two-faced?” Ranma clenched his fist over his knee. Before he could spit out the retort on the tip of his tongue, Kasumi’s hand clasped down on his other knee. Begrudgingly, Ranma went back to sulking.
“Good.” Kasumi clapped her hands. “Now that that’s settled, who’s hungry for dinner?”