Ranma 1/2 is owned my Rumiko Takahashi Heart of the Immortal - An Alternate Universe sorta thing. ---------------------------------------------------------- By: Anand Rao Ranma glanced at the man walking at his side and sighed in envy. He ran his fingers through his thick black hair. "I wish I could go bald." "It's not polite to make fun of an old man, Ranma." "Quite true," Ranma agreed easily, "but you're not that old, relatively speaking, of course." "I'm old enough." "But not as old as me," Ranma countered. "Why on earth would you want to go bald anyway? I miss my hair," Genma mourned. "It was long and lustrous once upon a time." "It's just another sign of aging, Genma. Just like the wrinkles that line your face and the girth that has grown around your waist." "Don't rub it in," Genma winced. "Not all of us have your unique abilities." "I'm. . . sorry. You know I don't mean it like that. I just. . ." "I know, Ranma, I know." The two continued to walk in silence for a few moments. "I think that trip went rather well," Genma finally said. "I'd like to return to China one day." He laughed heartily. "Anything to get away from responsibility." Ranma's tone was reproving. "You need to stay at home long enough to get Nodoka pregnant. She's not getting any younger you know." "I have to stay with you, Ranma. My honor won't be satisfied until I've repaid my debt to you," Genma replied loftily. "Since when did you care about honor?" Ranma snapped. "Besides, you've been trying to 'repay' me for over twenty years now. You and your 'Master' were well suited for each other!" Genma laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "I like being on the road; training with you. Is that really so bad?" "No, I guess not. . . but Nodoka is my grand daughter, and I worry about her." Ranma gave Genma a hard stare. "I want her to be happy, Genma." "I know, Ranma, I know." Genma sighed. "So, no more training trips until she's pregnant," Ranma declared. "W-what? You can't be serious!" "Oh, but I'm quite serious. You're going home, and you're going to stay there and start a family, is that clear?" "But-" "No arguments! You're going home, and that's final! I'll drop by in a few days to see how the two of you are doing." "Oh. . . all right." Genma petulantly kicked the ground once, showing his displeasure. He took a deep breath and then turned towards Ranma. "It -was- a good trip though, wasn't it?" "That it was," Ranma agreed. "I mean, that Amazon girl obviously fell in love with you! The trip wasn't a total loss, right?" "I did have fun training with you, Genma. I always have." Ranma sighed. "However, Shampoo's attraction for me didn't help matters at all." "What? But-" "The curse doesn't work that way. I have to fall in love with -them-. It doesn't matter how many of them fall in love with me." "I see. . . well, how many times have you fallen in love?" "Five." "Only five times in 200 years?" Genma exclaimed. "At this rate, you're going to live forever!" "Don't remind me. It's not that simple a thing, you know. It's not easy to fall in love, especially knowing that they're going to die while you remain unchanged." "Yeah, but only five. . ." Genma sounded shocked. "What? You think I just fall in love with a girl then leave her?" Ranma demanded. "If you take into account that I've had two long marriages, including the sixty years I was married to Nodoka's grandmother, five times in 200 years is quite a bit." "I don't know how you do it, Ranma." Genma shook his head sadly. "It's hard," Ranma admitted. "Until you fall in love. You know what I mean. Remember when you first met Nodoka?" Ranma grinned as Genma blushed. "Yes, I remember that day well. . . " ********************************* "All right, that's it for today. Practice hard, remember, testing occurs in a month." Ranma paused and looked meaningfully at the students in front him. "I'd like all of you to be able to advance a rank. Class dismissed." "Hai, Sensei!" the class chorused, and as one, bowed to him. Ranma returned the bow and smiled as the students left the dojo, talking animatedly amongst themselves. The Saotome dojo was surprisingly popular considering the 'young' age of its master. The martial arts community considered Ranma to be something of a prodigy. They could not understand how someone not even out of his teens could possibly be a Grand Master in Kempo. As Ranma was about to start a kata, the dojo door slammed open and a young woman in a kimono barged in. "Grandfather! I need the sword! Now!" Ranma sighed. "Nodoka-chan, your mother would be very disappointed in your lack of manners." He tried to keep the grin off his face. Nodoka looked rather comically enraged in her kimono. It was an incongruous sight. "But grandfather-" "I know you don't care, but I'm the one who gets yelled at every time you fail to act like a 'proper young woman'," Ranma explained. (I don't know where her mother got such ideas. . . certainly not from me!) "Grandfather, we found a couple of perverts trying to sneak into the women's public baths," Nodoka protested. "I'm going to -kill- them." "This bothers you that much?" Ranma's eyebrows rose. "I thought your tastes were rather. . . progressive." Nodoka flushed then glared at Ranma. "It's not what they did! It's what one. . . one of them said," she admitted. "Oh?" "He called me a baboon and said that if he wanted to ogle someone as hideous as me, he'd visit the zoo!" Nodoka was near tears as she ran to the dojo shrine and picked up the sword of the Saotome Clan from its resting-place. "I demand vengeance!" She quickly drew the sword in a single, fluid movement. Unfortunately, it slipped out of her hands and embedded itself in Ranma's stomach. Ranma gasped in pain and fell to his knees. "Damn it, girl! Your obsession with this blade is getting unhealthy." He grimaced in pain and pulled the sword out his stomach. "Especially considering that you do not even know how to use it!" "I'm sorry, Grandfather," Nodoka replied contritely. Ranma opened the front of his gi and inspected the wound. The bloodworms had begun the process of sealing it and within a few moments, only a light scar would remain. "It's okay, Nodoka-chan. No permanent damage done. Let's go see these 'perverts' of yours." "You're coming with me, Grandfather?" "I think it would be best," Ranma replied. "It wouldn't do for you to miss when trying to kill them, would it?" ****************************** "Nodoka was so mad that day," Genma chuckled. "Yes, she was," Ranma agreed. "Girls at that age tend to be sensitive about comments concerning their looks." "I noticed. Heh. I thought Soun was going to wet his pants when she came at us with the sword." "Right. Like you showed any semblance of a backbone that day," Ranma retorted. "Hey, the 'Crouching Tiger' is a powerful technique!" Genma protested. "Besides, it worked, didn't it?" Ranma just shook his head and smiled in spite of himself. "I still don't understand what she eventually saw in you. . ." "Ranma!" "No offense, Genma. You're a great martial artist, but 'husband' material, you're not." Genma sulked in injured silence. "You're going to prove me wrong, aren't you?" Ranma challenged. "Go home, have a kid or two." "Okay, okay, already!" Genma threw his hands in the air in surrender. "That's the spirit!" Ranma clapped Genma on the back. "What are you going to do while I'm off having kids?" "I thought I'd go visit Soun. I haven't seen him since Sachiko's funeral," Ranma replied. "It's been too long between visits." "Soun? Say, I'd like to-" "Nothing doing! Babies first! Soun later." Genma sighed. "So, I'll see you in a couple of days?" "Right. I'll tell Soun that you've started working on that son he so desperately wants." Ranma grinned at Genma's look of discomfort, and the two men parted ways. *************************** Ranma knocked on the front of door of the Tendo home and smiled at the brown-haired girl who answered it. "Hello, may I help you?" The girl, Ranma noticed, had an open and honest smile. It was a smile he well remembered. "Yes, I'd like to see Soun Tendo. Is he home?" "Certainly! Please, come in." The girl stepped back, allowing Ranma to enter the house. "Thank you." Ranma removed his shoes and followed after the girl. "Pardon me, but you seem very familiar. . . have we met somewhere before?" "Your father is a good friend of mine, Kasumi-chan." Ranma smiled. "It's been a while since I've seen you though." "R-Ranma-oniichan?" Kasumi gasped in surprised as her hands went to her cheeks. "So, you remember me?" Kasumi simply embraced him in response. Ranma gently ran his fingers through her hair. "So, how have you been, Hime-chan?" Kasumi giggled and pulled away. "No one has called me that in a long time." She gazed fondly at Ranma and ran her hand down his face. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?" "I told you I wouldn't," Ranma replied, his tone a bit sad. "I've missed you, Ranma-oniichan." Kasumi frowned. "Why did you wait so long to come back?" Ranma looked down at his feet, his face flushing guiltily. "Kasumi-chan, when. . . when your mother died, I-" Kasumi placed the palm of her hand against Ranma's mouth. "I was angry, then; a hurt and confused child who just lost her mother. I didn't understand what you were," she paused, "I still don't. But, I do know, if you could have saved her, you would have." Ranma sighed. "Thank you, hime-chan. Your forgiveness means a great deal to me." "There was nothing to forgive, oniichan." Kasumi smiled then put her hands on her hips in mock anger. "Except for waiting twelve years before deciding to visit us!" Ranma grinned and nodded appreciatively. "And the time has done wonders for you, Kasumi-chan. You've grown in to a very beautiful woman. You're what? Eighteen now?" "Stop teasing me, Oniichan. And I'm nineteen." Kasumi ducked her head and blushed bright red. "Who's teasing? You must have a dozen boys knocking on the front door every day!" "Not really. . . " "Oh? And what about your father's students?" Ranma challenged. "Father. . . doesn't teach anymore." "He doesn't WHAT?" Ranma snapped. Kasumi winced. "He stopped after mother died," she explained. "I think you'd better take me to him. Now." "Okay, Oniichan." Kasumi led Ranma into the living room where her father was sitting at the dining table, his head buried in the morning newspaper. "Father, you have a guest." "Oh, really?" Soun folded the newspaper and laid it on the table. "Who is it?" He looked up at Ranma's stern face and blinked in surprise. "R-Ranma? Is that you?" His eyes began to water was he slowly stood up. "Yes, it's me! Now, what is this I hear about-" Soun leapt up from the table and grabbed Ranma in a tight embrace. "It's been such a long time, Ranma! I'm so happy to see you!" He cried noisily as he lifted Ranma off his feet and shook him from side to side. Ranma gasped for breath and tried to extract himself from Soun's vice-like grip. "It's. . . good. . . to. . . see you. . . too!" "I've missed you so much, my boy!" Soun cried. He finally released his hold on Ranma. " 'Boy'? I'm old enough to be considered your ancestor, Soun!" Ranma took a deep breath and rubbed his right side where Soun had squeezed him especially tight. "Yes, well, you -look- young enough to be my son." Soun laughed then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Don't get any ideas," Ranma growled. Soun laughed again and patted Ranma on the shoulder. "Sit down and make yourself comfortable! We have a lot to catch up on. How's my old friend Genma?" "Genma's fine. He -better- be working on producing a heir," Ranma said impatiently. "What is this I hear about you not teaching anymore?" The smile left Soun's face and he stepped back at the rebuke. "After. . . after I lost my dear wife, the Art just didn't hold much meaning for me anymore." His head lowered in shame. Ranma sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "What did I teach you, Tendo-kun?" Soun suddenly straightened. "Sensei, in my path, when all else fails, there is the Art." "Exactly," Ranma replied gently. "Do you think that I don't understand? Me? Of all people?" "I. . . just couldn't. . . I-" "I know, Soun. But the Art is a part of you. Do really want to let it go?" Ranma stared intently at his former student, searching for that spark of life, of passion, that he remembered. "But it's been so long. . ." Soun sighed petulantly and Ranma recognized the excuse for what it was. "Then I'll just have to get you back in shape, won't I?" "Training. . . with you?" Soun asked weakly. He recalled what training sessions with Ranma were like. The idea of waking up at the crack of dawn and sparring for hours on end definitely lacked appeal. "I can't think of a better way to get you up to speed," Ranma replied, his tone hardening. "And making sure you take care of your responsibilities." "Oh my! Does that mean you'll be staying with us for a while, Oniichan?" Ranma glanced at Kasumi then at Soun. "If it's not too much trouble." "Trouble? Of course not!" Soun sounded shocked. "Why, this house and dojo wouldn't be here if not for you!" "It was a wedding gift, Soun," Ranma replied dismissively, "but it is also your home, and I wouldn't want to intrude." "You would never be intruding, Ranma." "Then we're agreed? I start training you tomorrow. When I feel that you're back in form, you start teaching." It was not a question. Soun just nodded his head and tried not to sigh. "Cheer up, Soun! We'll have this dojo packed with students in no time!" Ranma put his arms around Soun's shoulders good-naturedly. (And -then- we get working on finding a boy for Kasumi.) ******************************************* Nabiki Tendo looked at the hand written figures in her worn and well-used notebook. She had learned early on how important data was for one who wanted to make money. People would often pay for it, and some people would often pay for it to be kept secret. Those were the direct ways in which data led to making a profit. However, data could also be used to make forecasts, estimates, and risk assessments. The last was Nabiki's current concern. "You're starting to slip, Akane. Your morning fights with Kuno are lasting longer and longer every day." "So what? I still beat him." Akane brushed a hand through her long black hair in irritation. "So it means that Kuno's getting better or you're getting worse." "It doesn't matter how good he gets! I'll still beat him to a pulp!" Akane snapped. "Maybe. . .," Nabiki allowed, "and maybe not. At any rate, it's been bad for business. People bet on how long it takes you to put him down." "Hey, I go through that. . . that. . . stupid mess every morning and instead of helping me like a -normal- sister would, you just take advantage of me!" "A girl's got to earn a living," Nabiki quipped. "Besides, I -am- helping you. Kuno's getting better, so you'd better intensify your training." "I don't need you to give me advice on martial arts," Akane sulked. Nabiki shrugged her shoulders. "Fine, Akane. Keep breaking all the bricks you want. I'm sure it's helping you become a -great- martial artist." "What would you suggest?" "Being that you're family, I'll give you this one for free," Nabiki replied loftily. "Get a sparring partner, someone who's better than you who will keep you on your toes and make you work harder." "Yeah, right!" Akane shook her head. "Where am I supposed to find someone like that?" **************************** "My goodness! Oniichan, are you catching a cold?" "I don't get sick, Hime-chan," Ranma replied as he wiped his nose. "Must have been dust or something." "Dust?" Kasumi asked faintly. She stared intently at her spotless dining table and her mouth began to quiver slightly. "Kasumi, dear, why don't you go make Ranma some tea," Soun suggested. "It might help if he really is coming down with a cold." Ranma blinked as Kasumi suddenly smiled and nodded her head happily. "Tea would be good for you, Oniichan." She excused herself from the dining table and quickly walked into the kitchen. Soun waited until she was out of earshot then conspiratorially leaned towards Ranma. "She can get a bit sensitive over how clean the house looks," he whispered. "I see," Ranma replied, not really seeing at all. "We all dealt with Sachiko's death in our own way," Soun explained. Ranma shook his head. "You have to help your daughters move past this, Soun. Sachi would be the last person who would expect you to mourn this long." "It's not that easy. . ." "It never is," Ranma agreed, "but you gotta-" "We're home!" Nabiki, followed by Akane walked into the dining room and stopped when they saw Ranma seated with their father. "Hey, Daddy, who's your friend?" Nabiki asked, giving Ranma an appraising look. Akane frowned slightly but remained quiet. "This is Ranma Saotome. He's a very good, and very old friend of mine." Soun put his hand on Ranma's shoulder. "He'll be staying here for awhile." Nabiki sat down at the dining table across from Ranma. "You don't look that old. In fact, I'd say you're about my age." "I've aged really well, Nabiki-chan," Ranma replied easily. Nabiki blinked. "You already know my name?" She didn't react to his tone of familiarity. Ranma laughed then smiled at Nabiki fondly. "The last time I saw you, you were a tiny little toddler. A chubby one, too." Nabiki blushed and Ranma laughed once more. Akane stiffened at Ranma's words while Kasumi chose that moment to come out of the kitchen carrying a tray filled with cookies, a pot of tea, and five cups. "Perfect timing, Hime-chan!" "Nabiki and Akane always come home at this time, Oniichan," Kasumi explained. Akane boggled. ('Hime-chan'? 'Oniichan'? What's going on here?) She slowly walked around the table and sat next Soun, her eyes never leaving Ranma. "Daddy, he can't stay here!" she whispered fiercely into Soun's ear. Soun frowned and turned towards his youngest daughter. "Why not?" he whispered back. "Because he. . . he. . . he's a boy!" "I'm glad you noticed," Soun replied dryly. "Daddy!" "Akane, Ranma is not only a good friend, but a guest and I expect you to treat him as such. He will stay here for as long as he wants." Akane sighed and slumped down. Her father rarely ever took a hard stance with her, but when he did, she knew he wouldn't back down. She could almost feel pride in theses rare glimpses of his strength, if she wasn't so frustrated at the results. "So, Ranma, how long do you plan on staying here?" Nabiki nibbled on a cookie and took the proffered cup of tea Kasumi held towards her. "I'm not sure." Ranma thoughtfully rubbed his chin and gave Soun a sidelong glance. "I guess it depends on how long it takes to whip Soun into shape." Soun winced while Akane bolted up and glared at Ranma. "What's that supposed to mean?" "It came to my attention that Soun has been lax in his duties to the Art," Ranma replied evenly. "I'm going to put him back on track." "You're going to what?" Akane screamed. "How. . . how dare you question my father's honor and his commitment to the Art! In his own home no less!" "Akane. . ." Soun barely managed to whisper her name as a gentle flow of tears began to trickle down his face. The looks of disappointment, the words of anger that made him flinch when spoken by his youngest child, were completely forgotten. When it came right down to it, Akane defended her own, and Soun couldn't have been more proud. Ranma's eyes soften as he stared at Akane and after several minutes, he let out a rueful sigh. "Akane-chan, you are so much like your mother." Akane's rage lessened, but not by much. "My father taught me everything I know of the Art. I challenge you to a fight. If I win, you apologize to my father and leave our house." "A challenge. . . and a bet, eh? Interesting." Ranma's smile became slightly predatory. "And if I win, you become my student. Deal?" Akane snorted. "Like I really need to learn anything from you!" "So beat me and prove it," Ranma countered. "I beat up boys like you every morning. There's no way I'm going to lose!" Akane turned away and stalked towards the dojo. Ranma shook his head. (I was wrong. She's not like Sachiko at all. She's like. . . me.) ******************************************** "You have exceeded my expectations, Ranma-kun. Congratulations on your victory." "Thank you, Sensei." Ranma bowed. "The tournament was easy. I told you I'd win it." Tetsuo Saotome sighed disparagingly at the youth in front of him. "That you did, my son. Although, a loss or two might have done wonders for your humility." "Come on, Father, I'm best." He paused and grinned cockily. "You trained me to -be- the best." "And at age sixteen, never stepping a foot outside of Tokyo, you already know this?" Tetsuo's voice was gentle, but the criticism was clear. Ranma flushed at the rebuke. "I'm the youngest to ever win the kempo tournament in Tokyo," he replied defensively. "Yes, you are, and I -am- proud of you." Tetsuo smiled. His son was indeed better in the Art than he could have ever hoped for. "However, you must realize that there will always be someone better, stronger, or faster than you. The Art isn't about competition with others, it's about competing with yourself." Ranma frowned. "But father. . . I want to be the best. I want it more than anything." "I know you do, son. I know." Tetsuo put a hand on Ranma's shoulder and leaned down. "Perhaps it is time for you to take a trip; a training journey of sorts." "A training journey?" Ranma failed to hide the excitement in his voice. "Yes. Go to other dojos, travel all over Japan, learn what you can, and open your mind. Perhaps you'll be the best, or perhaps you'll come to realize that being the best isn't all that important." Plans, dreams, and thoughts of adventure flowed through Ranma's mind. (This'll be great, I can prove that I'm the best! I'll leave tomorrow and. . . uh oh.) Ranma hung his head in realization. "Father, there's no way that Aya is going to let me go." "Don't worry about Aya. She's not your wife yet. You still have a -little- time before becoming her indentured servant." Tetsuo chuckled warmly. "I'll explain things to her, it will be fine." Ranma looked doubtful and his father gently pushed him back. "Go on now, the others are waiting for you. Tonight, the party is in your honor, my son. Go enjoy it." Ranma finally smiled, and bowing to his father once more, left the dojo. *********************************** "Okay, Akane-chan. You made the challenge, what are the terms?" "First hit wins." Akane normally didn't think about terms in her fights. When the boys stopped moving, she won. This was a formal one-on-one challenge, however; the first one she'd ever made. "And stop being so familiar!" The pair stood in the center of the dojo, facing each other, while Soun, Kasumi, and Nabiki sat against one of the dojo's walls. "First hit. Right. . . Akane-chan." Ranma had such an annoying grin on his face. Akane was looking forward to wiping it off, hard and fast. Ranma held a relaxed stance with his arms loosely at his sides. Akane grew more furious by the moment. (He's not even taking me seriously!) She primed herself for a quick strike, eagerly awaiting her father to signal the start of the fight. Akane relished in her anger. It made her strong, and it never failed her. "Ready? Fight!" The words were barely out of Soun's mouth before Akane soared towards Ranma. One strong punch, a quick jab was all it would take and - Ranma leaned to left, completely dodging the punch. (Impossible,) Akane thought, (even Kuno doesn't move that fast.) Another jab, a cross, an upper cut, and a kick; Ranma dodged them all. His eyebrows were raised in amusement, and he had an almost-bored look on his face. Another flurry of punches and kicks, and Akane's breathing became somewhat labored. (Can. . . can he be reading my moves?) The thought was appalling. She couldn't begin to imagine that she was telegraphing her intentions that openly. She took a step back and forced her arms into a guard position. "So. . . it's my turn, is it?" His voice was soft, and far too casual for Akane's liking. He acted as if they were playing a game of chess in the park, instead of engaging in a duel of honor. She clenched her fists, but forced herself to stand still. Her attacks had been wasted, and all she could do was draw him closer. Instead, Ranma put his hands on his hips and frowned. "One, two, three, four, fiv-" "What are you doing?" Akane asked. Her growing irritation was now coupled with confusion. "I'm counting the holes in your defense. I mean, really Akane! With your feet planted like that, how do you expect to dodge. . . this!" In the blink of an eye, he appeared right in front of her, his fist cocked back, poised to strike. Akane jerked back, completely losing her center-of-gravity. Ranma's fist flew forward, and Akane -knew- she wouldn't be able to block it. (Damn!) Akane shut her eyes and flinched in expectation. A second later, she felt a gentle but firm tap on her forehead and she fell backwards on to the floor. She opened her eyes and blinked at an arrogantly smiling Ranma. "I win." *************************************** Notes: If you've never read any of Blade of the Immortal, you're probably a bit confused by now. Well, all should be made clear in later chapters. Before that, however, I need help. This fic just flew for me up to this point, but I've been stuck for weeks. I've even resorted to alcohol-induced stream-of-consciousness, but that didn't do much good. (You *REALLY* don't want to see the results.) Anyway, if anyone out there has any ideas, pass them my way and hopefully it will help jog my creativity. Much thanks, and Happy Thanksgiving to you all. Namaste, Anand Anand Rao jouve25@hotmail.com http://www.gsm.uci.edu/~arao/ ICQ# 10869014 "He's a sex object. He asks for sex and women object."