Relatively Absent

by Togashi Gaijin

Chapter 5: Adjustments

Suginami - Friday, March 4th 1994

Ranma woke up suddenly. She glanced around the unfamiliar surroundings until her eyes found the clock on the edge of the bureau. When she read 5:45 AM, she blinked. She’d gotten only four hours of sleep, yet she wasn’t tired at all. She lay back in her futon and stared at the ceiling for several minutes, then growled when she realized that she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep.

“Might’s well catch up on my practicin’,” she grumbled as she got out of bed.

Ranma found several sets of her favorite tang and pants outfits in the left armoire. She dressed in her usual red and black combination and discovered the wushu slippers were so large they wouldn’t stay on her feet. The male slippers must have been bought in her male-form’s actual shoe size instead of the full size smaller she’d been getting since she’d picked up the curse.

Sighing, Ranma opened the center armoire where the girl clothes were stored and was pleasantly surprised to find several more sets of the tang and trouser outfits in various colors amongst the … ugh … dresses, all sized for her current body. She also found an exceedingly handsome maroon frog-front blouse and slacks combination with a dark green dragon meticulously embroidered across the back.

She barely hesitated before changing into one of the smaller red and black outfits. Something that had always bugged her about the curse was that her clothes never fit properly whenever she got splashed, often to her extreme embarrassment. The Chinese frog-front tangs had the advantage of being somewhat unisex, but she ended up swimming in her male tangs whenever she changed to a girl, and changing back to male when she was in one of her female disguises was even more mortifying since the disguise was almost always a school fuku or some other form of dress or skirt. The time she had been tea-splashed while wearing the bunny outfit during the challenge with Tsubasa had been especially embarrassing – fortunately the outfit had some stretch built in to it. She’d even managed to change back to her girl form before the costume had ripped apart or anyone had seen “him” wearing a bunny outfit.

Ranma quickly finished exchanging outfits and laid the maroon dragon outfit on the futon for later. Opening the window, she leapt out onto the first story roof and down to the ground below to greet the arrival of the new day’s sun.


“Jun, would you please inform Ranma and the girls that breakfast will be ready in ten minutes?”

“Certainly.” Jun bowed to Kumiko before leaving the kitchen. A short walk brought her up the stairs to Ranma’s room.

“Ranma-sama, breakfast will be ready shortly,” she called out as she stepped through the open door. A quick glance showed the room currently unoccupied and in a bit of disarray. Jun efficiently straightened everything up, smiling to herself as she hung the rejected male tang outfit back in the armoire. The female outfit that had been laid out on the futon, however, wasn’t quite complete. A bit of rummaging in the far dresser’s bottom drawer located the missing items. Jun placed the ruby red lace bra and panties next to the outfit on the futon before leaving the room to go look for the girls.


The second story window in Kioko’s bedroom was not normally known as a spot for social gatherings. This morning was quite different; four faces were currently gathered at the open window, all intently watching the skill being displayed below.

“Ooooooh.”

“Whoa!”

“Not even Haru-chan’s that flexible.”

“Am too!”

“No you’re not, sis. Besides, not even you can jump that … oh wow.”

“You think Midori’s noticed she still isn’t wearing a bra?”

“Onēchan? … … Onēchan? … … ONĒCHAN!?!”

“Huh … Wha?”

“You really shouldn’t drool like that, Onēchan. Someone just might get the wrong impression.”

“I don’t drool, sis.”

“Yup, she noticed.”

“I noticed what?”

“Oh, there you are.”

All four girls turned away from their positions at the window when Jun called out to them from the doorway.

“Has anyone seen Ranma-sama? She wasn’t in her room.”

“She’s out on the lawn practicing,” Kioko replied, nodding her head towards the open window.

“Ah. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes; would one of you please let her know so that she can get cleaned up in time?”

“Sure thing,” Tsuya replied before turning to lean out the open window. “RANMA! BREAKFAST!”

The other three girls quickly looked back out the window when they saw Tsuya flinch.

“That … had to hurt.”


Ranma sighed contentedly as she stepped out of the shower stall. This was a luxury she could definitely get used to. Although a shower didn’t relax her muscles in the same manner as a long soak in the furo did, it didn’t do a bad job at all. And not having to freeze as she washed was a very nice bonus indeed.

She flash-dried her hair and braided her pigtail at Amaguriken speed before remembering she was supposed to keep her ki usage to a minimum. Shrugging her shoulders, she walked over to the vanity and examined the large bruise developing over her left cheekbone. Too many years of constant battle over every single scrap of food had left their mark on her – she was entirely too prone to distraction when someone announced a meal, as her encounter with that large maple tree had once again proven. This was something she was going to have to address.

At least the bruise would be gone by lunchtime - it wasn’t the first time she had inadvertently planted her face into something hard and unyielding while practicing and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, either. Ranma draped the towel over her shoulders and walked back to her room clad only in her boxers. It took a moment for her to register the additions that had been made to her selection, and when she did her first impulse was to wad the disgusting things up into a tight little package and use them for Mōko Takabisha target practice.

She could, however, take the hint.

A quick search located a nice neutral grey and more importantly plain sports bra. She was just going to have to get used to them; she was getting tired of the way her breasts always ached after a vigorous workout like the one she’d gone through this morning, and she currently didn’t have the ability to splash this body away. At least she could think of the sports bra as a type of jock strap for her breasts. That didn’t mean she had to like them, of course, and anything with lace or other “frilly stuff” in it was right out. She tossed the unused underwear back in the drawer with a small growl.

Ranma ran into a bit of a snag as she started getting dressed. Her cotton boxers, while extremely comfortable when worn in either form under her guy clothes, weren’t the most comfortable thing to have on underneath a pair of women’s form-fitting silk slacks. The boxers bunched up in all the wrong places and ruined the lines of the slacks in the process. Sighing, she realized that if she wanted to look even halfway decent she was going to have to wear panties voluntarily, something she had previously done only as a part of a disguise. Luckily there were some plain grey cotton panties in the dresser – she’d noticed them when she had found the sports bras.

She was just about to put the maroon slacks back on when the full impact of what she had just done hit her squarely between the eyes.


Aiko frowned when she looked around the table. “Jun, please go upstairs and check to see if Ranma-kun has fallen asleep.”

“I’ll do it, Obāsama,” Midori said, getting quickly to her feet. She did her best to ignore the giggles that followed her out the room.


Eiko was starting to become … concerned. Its new Guardian had proved to be a veritable treasure-trove of emotional energy – an input Eiko had been sorely lacking for a very long time – but those self-same emotions were rapidly spiraling out of Ranma’s control. The youngster had been subjected to far too many physical and emotional traumas over the last week, and without the psychic stability provided by the full Guardian linkage there was little Eiko could actually do to alleviate the situation. And the upcoming bonding would put an even greater strain on Ranma’s fragile psyche.

One of Ranma’s greatest assets was her overwhelming confidence, and Eiko was finding very little evidence of that confidence within her at the moment. This lack could very easily prove to be a great hindrance in Ranma’s upcoming task of recovering the primary Key. Its former Guardian Sailor Pluto was stubbornly refusing to abandon her futile attempts at regaining control, and Eiko knew that very stubbornness would force her to vigorously oppose Ranma’s claim.

The situation was quickly becoming intolerable, yet there was almost nothing more Eiko could do at the moment. It was really quite irritating.


“Ranma?” Midori called out while knocking on the open door. Not hearing a response she walked in and looked around the corner. Ranma was sitting on the futon with her back to the door, clad in a maroon top with an embroidered dragon – the matching slacks sat in a crumpled heap nearby. She was also curled up into a tight ball and shaking visibly.

“Ranma?” Midori asked softly. She gingerly walked further into the room.

“Ranma, are you alright?”

“g- go ‘way.”

Midori could barely hear her response. She crept forward and knelt down on the edge of the futon.

“Ranma, what’s wrong?”

“j- j- just leave m- me alone. p- p- please.”

Midori slowly extended a hand out to Ranma, but … something … made her stop several centimeters short of Ranma’s shoulder. She carefully withdrew her arm.

“Ranma, breakfast is waiting downstairs. Obāsama and the girls are all waiting for you before they begin. I can tell Obāsama you’re not feeling well if you like; I’m sure they’d all understand.”

Midori wanted nothing more than to sweep her cousin into a warm embrace and take all the girl’s pain away, but she knew that would result in more harm than good – especially since she had no idea as to the cause of Ranma’s current distress. A full minute elapsed in uncomfortable silence before Midori stood up as quietly as she could.

“Ok, Ranma. I’ll tell Obāsama not to expect you. I’ll get Jun or Naomi to bring up something to eat a little later. If you need anything else, anything at all, just ask.”

Midori silently retraced her path to the doorway. As much as she hated it, now was not the time to try and find out what was wrong.

“M- Midori?”

She halted instantly on hearing that soft voice. “Yes, Ranma?”

“I’ll … I’ll be down in a couple minutes.”

“Very well, Ranma,” Midori replied, trying to hide the relief she felt. She turned away to resume her exit but had barely taken another step before being stopped again.

“Midori?”

“Yes, Ranma?”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”


Breakfast was … subdued. Ranma had tried to put up a good front, but the instant she walked through the door everyone else knew something was very wrong. She hadn’t been able to scrub the puffiness away from around her eyes, nor could she disguise her current mood from a group who were trained in reading subtle nuances of the body’s language.

And there was certainly nothing subtle about Ranma’s body language.

Aiko viewed the various interactions around the table with concern. The girls’ attempts at cheering Ranma up were starting to backfire – Harukichi had practically strangled Tsuya after the blonde made a light-hearted but thoughtless comment about his outfit. The Yamada matriarch would have to be very careful the next several days in correcting the girls’ attitudes with regards to her grandson – she doubted any of them consciously realized they had all begun to think of Ranma as “her” instead of “him”, and this was coloring their actions and attitudes enough for him to feel even more uncomfortable. Ranma’s current choice in clothing only helped to reinforce this attitude, unfortunately, but Aiko was actually glad to see that a stubborn spark of personal vanity still existed.

She waited for Naomi to finish clearing the table. “Seiko-chan?”

“Yes, Okusama?”

“I believe the girls are sufficiently rested to cope with a full evaluation today, wouldn’t you agree?”

A chorus of groans immediately followed.

“Yes, Okusama,” Seiko replied as she stood up. “Come along, girls … the day is only so long.”

“Hai, sensei,” all four chanted in unison as they stood to follow. Seeing as breakfast was over, Ranma followed suit.

“Ranma-kun, please wait for a moment,” Aiko said before he could follow the others out the room. “You can meet up with the girls later at any time; Seiko will doubtless have them fully occupied until nearly dinnertime.”

“Sure, Grandma,” Ranma replied. It wasn’t as if she really had any plans at the moment.

“Naomi, please bring us a pot of Hanase.”

“Hai, Yamada-sama.”

Aiko waited until Ranma sat back down at the table.

“Ranma-kun, I promised you last night I would tell more of your family’s history this morning. However, this can be done anytime at your convenience. You’ve just had an exceptionally difficult week and I will more than understand if you wish to talk about this later after you’re more fully rested.”

“Naw, I’d kinda like to hear it now if you don’t mind, Grandma. I’m still tryin’ to get used to th’ idea I got other family besides Mom and the Panda.”

Aiko made a quick mental note – she had temporarily forgotten the little present Haru-chan delivered to her wayward daughter the other day, and while it couldn’t hurt that much if the girl sweated it out a while longer, it was also definitely something that needed to be addressed soon.

“You have quite a bit of ‘other family’, Ranma-kun,” Aiko smiled. “I’m sorry circumstances have prevented you from knowing anything of your Mother’s family up until now, but I hope to rectify that as soon as possible.”

Aiko paused while Naomi brought in another tea service. “Will there be anything else, Yamada-sama?”

“No, that will be all, Naomi-chan. Thank you.”

The black-haired maid nodded before she quietly left the room.

“Ranma-kun, I want to apologize for not intervening in your situation sooner. I had what I thought were valid reasons at the time, but I’ve since realized I made several serious errors in judgment – most of which have only added to the pressures you have been under.”

Ranma fidgeted in her seat. She had never had anyone apologize for not doing something for her before.

“Errrr, that’s all right, Grandma. I wouldn’t a wanted the …” Ranma stopped on seeing Aiko’s raised hand.

“It is NOT all right; unfortunately it’s not something I can go back and change, either.” Aiko drummed her fingers on the table for a second. “Ranma-kun, your current situation is the direct result of past history between the Yamada and Saotome clans, involving several pledges of honor which have gone unfulfilled. There have also been some disturbing … irregularities … in the Saotome lineage which have strained the relations between the clans quite severely.”

Aiko paused for a sip of tea. “The original agreement was between my father Katsuro and Kiyoshi Saotome, who would be your great-grandfather. They arranged a marriage between my brother Naosuke and Kiyoshi’s daughter Yasuko, with the intent of creating a combined Yamada-Saotome Ryū. There were also important secondary issues that went into the arrangement, but the primary intent was the joint clan rights to the combined Ryū.”

“Sheesh, y’mean I’m not the only one?”

“No, Ranma-kun; the Saotome clan is old samurai and they have a long history of combining Ryū through marriage. With this arrangement the Saotome would have gained access to the Yamada Kenjutsu Ryū, considerable financial backing, and a direct male heir in Naosuke who assumed the Saotome name. Our clan would have acquired the Saotome Musabetsu Kakutō Ryū and access to the Saotome clan’s status, which at the time was considerable.”

Ranma shook her head. She knew her family was originally samurai by the sword her mother carried. High status was another thing entirely.

“The omiai and the marriage took place as scheduled, but Kiyoshi disappeared shortly before the marriage ceremony was held. The marriage was less than two months old when Naosuke was killed in an extremely suspicious training accident. Yasuko refused all further contact with the Yamada from that point on and a little over a year after Naosuke’s death gave birth to Genma. Genma’s father is unknown – officially – but we have very strong suspicions as to who it was.”

Aiko grimaced. “My father renounced the agreement between the clans when it became obvious that Yasuko would neither remarry into the Yamada nor uphold the agreement to combine the Ryū. Yasuko raised Genma on her own for five years before she herself disappeared. It was at this point Happosai took young Genma and left him at a small dojo down in Okinawa, where he moved from dojo to dojo until he was eighteen. Happosai returned with another student, Soūn Tendō, and took them both on a training trip for two years. The three of them were in Tokyo when Genma met Nodoka. They announced their intention to marry barely two months later.”

Ranma sat with her chin on her hands, totally enthralled. This was all new to her – Pops never talked about his own past unless forced to do so, and then still managed to avoid saying anything of importance.

“I did not approve of Nodoka’s choice, Ranma-kun. Genma and Happosai had thoroughly ruined the reputation of the Saotome clan and their methods of training were dishonorable at best. They had also accumulated a considerable debt in a very short period of time.” Aiko paused for a sip of tea. Ranma could see the strain on her grandmother’s face. “Disowning your mother when she married against my wishes was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, Ranma-kun, and I haven’t talked with her since.”

Several seconds elapsed before Aiko suddenly rang a small bell sitting on the table. Naomi re-entered the room from the hallway almost immediately.

“Yamada-sama?”

“Naomi-chan, please call Doctor Ono and request his presence. Have Genjo pick him up and be at his disposal for the remainder of the day.”

“Certainly, Yamada-sama,” Naomi replied, leaving the room once more.

The Yamada matriarch didn’t resume her tale, choosing instead to nurse the cup of tea in front of her. A long silent minute passed.

“Grandma?”

“Yes, Ranma-kun?”

“Is Mom your only kid?”

“No she isn’t, son,” Aiko replied with a smile. “Nodoka is fourth of five. Ichiro’s the eldest, followed by Jiro, Mai, Nodoka, and Shizuka. Your uncles Ichiro and Jiro handle all of the commercial interests of the clan, and Nodoka was originally heir to the Yamada Ryū before she married. Midori is training for that position now since none of my sons or their families have shown any interest in the Art.”

Aiko paused for several seconds before voicing a long sigh. “I’m afraid I haven’t done very well by my daughters, Ranma-kun. Mai was never interested in the Art until she met a gaijin karateka. The two of them moved to New York City and got married in America. I’ve told you what happened between your mother and myself, and Shizuka … I lost darling Shizuka over a decade ago to an auto accident, and her husband and daughter two years later to a lab fire. It was right after my little Firefly left us when I added the girls to the clan.”

Ranma fidgeted in silence – it was obvious Aiko still had very strong feelings for her youngest daughter, but Ranma just didn’t know what to say.

Aiko visibly shook off her mood and stood up. “That’s enough of that. Let’s go check on the girls, Ranma-kun. We still have a while before Doctor Ono arrives and I’d like your honest opinion on their training.”


Nerima

Thwack Thwack ... Thwack

Again.

Thwack Thwack ... Thwack

Again.

Thwack Thwack  ... Thwack

“Again.”

Thwack Thwack  ... Thwack

“AGAIN!”

Thwack Thwack  ... CRACK!

Nodoka held pose next to the shattered practice dummy, wakizashi in guard, katana extended from the spinning sweep cut that had finally broken it in twain. She gasped for air as sweat streamed down from the unaccustomed exertion. Nodoka slowly sheathed both blades as she stood before reaching for a nearby towel and water glass.

Gone was the immaculate coiffure and flowered formal kimono of a traditional Japanese housewife. A kendoka stood in her place, keikogi and hakama of purest black, her long chestnut hair cascading down her back in a low ponytail.

Nodoka sat down and began a set of cool-down stretches. It had been well over a decade since she had trained seriously and her entire body burned and shrieked in protest, but the muscles … the muscles never forgot.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would be ready.


Juuban

“Were you able to find anything, Ami-chan?”

“I’m sorry, Usagi. There’s been no detectable trace of the subspace pocket since it collapsed. No one except you has seen Hotaru since Monday, and the last time any of us saw Setsuna was at Mamoru’s apartment the night before. I’ve been unable to pick up any trace of either of them since then.”

Makoto Kino was worried. They’d all been searching after school the entire week for any sign of Hotaru or Sailor Pluto without success and the strain was beginning to show on them all. She knew just how upset Usagi was by the fact that the unusually-subdued blonde wasn’t even making an attempt at mooching her lunch at the moment.

“Mako-chan?”

Makoto shook her head. “No luck.”

And it certainly didn’t help when Ikuko-san grounded Usagi for the rest of the school year for all of her unexcused absences. Even if their High School entrance exams were less than two weeks away, forcing Usagi to sit on the sidelines was slow torture for them all. Anyone could see how much Usagi and Chibi-Usa were suffering over the loss of the two senshi.

Makoto tried a time proven tactic: she held out her bento. “Usagi-chan, do you want some shrimp tempura? I cooked way too much last night.”

She became even more concerned when Usagi declined.


Suginami

Aiko sat at one end of the dojo and watched the girls work out in the middle of the floor. She also surreptitiously studied the reactions of her grandson sitting next to her. Ranma was concentrating on his cousins’ actions with a focus that was almost frightening. She had little doubt he was memorizing every single move the girls made in their paired kata. A slight scowl had been building on Ranma’s face for the last hour and Aiko was having difficulty keeping her own focus intact – she knew her grandson would not appreciate being told exactly how adorable she looked at the moment and it was a difficult thought to suppress.

The long paired kata finally came to a close. All four girls walked over to the equipment locker and began to distribute bokken, rubber knives, and rubber shuriken amongst themselves. Midori armed herself with a daisho and several knife straps, Kioko took a bo and nothing else, Tsuya a pair of ninja-to and a bandolier of knives, and Harukichi a ninja-to and a plethora of various projectiles. They walked back out to the middle of the dojo and faced off against each other.

“Begin!” Seiko quickly moved to a position directly opposite Aiko and Ranma.

A four-way free-for-all ensued. It became quickly obvious that Midori was being ganged up on by the other girls, but this didn’t prevent Tsuya from having to tap out as a “casualty” when she was nailed in the back by a half-dozen shuriken – Harukichi having been presented with a brief but perfect throwing lane. Kioko followed Tsuya to the sidelines barely ten seconds later when she failed to block a counterthrust from her sister’s wakizashi. The next minute passed quickly with Midori chasing Harukichi around the room while blocking a continual blizzard of projectiles in an earnest but futile attempt to corner the smaller girl. Unfortunately for Midori, Harukichi was quick enough to keep out of her cousin’s longer reach while still managing to reload her ammunition stash with whatever previously thrown items were laying about as she passed by.

Tsuya reentered the battle exactly sixty seconds after she had tapped out. Kioko’s return ten seconds later was marked by an event quite unusual for her: she forced Midori off the floor when her older sister lost track of Kioko’s “regen point” and ran by with her back turned, right when Kioko stepped back on the floor. Three opportunistic bo strikes left Midori sprawled out flat and pounding the dojo floor in frustration.

The melee continued for another dozen minutes while a definite pattern emerged, one the girls were evidently quite familiar with.

“Halt!”

Everyone on the floor froze in place.

Aiko stood up. “Gather round, girls. Seiko.” She waited for them to assemble.

“There were entirely too many casualties in that exercise for my liking. I can see nearly everyone needs a good long refresher course in projectile avoidance.”

Aiko waited for the groans to subside before continuing. “It’s past time for lunch, but before we break I’d like you to hear Ranma-kun’s opinion on the exercises.” Aiko turned to face her grandson. “Ranma-kun?”

Ranma blanched – she’d thought Grandma would talk to her privately about their training, not put her on the spot like this. She scanned the faces of her cousins and was dismayed to see the eager anticipation written across all of their faces. This was not good, this was so not good, it’s how it always started. She almost jumped through the roof when a gentle hand landed on her shoulder.

“There’s no need to worry, son. The girls only want to get better – they won’t take anything you say wrong.”

Ranma fought her emotions down with difficulty. This wasn’t Nerima, and she’d been watching all the girls handle Seiko’s critique for several hours now without batting an eye. Maybe this time she wouldn’t get pummeled into the ground for telling someone how to do things right.

“Sorry, Grandma.”

“No need to apologize for being good, Ranma-kun. That’s why we all want your opinion.”

“Errrr, ‘k,” Ranma said with a slight blush. “Main thing I see is no one’s near fast enough. Kichi comes the closest, but that’s mostly ‘cause she don’t like getting up close and personal.”

Aiko smiled. “And what would you suggest?”

Ranma looked the four girls over critically before nodding once. “Weight training – lots and lots of weight training to start. You can’t get fast until you’re strong and a girl’s gotta work twice as hard as a guy to build up strength. It took me a couple o’ really tough months to get my girl body up to shape after I was cursed.”

Ranma furrowed her brows in thought. “You prob’ly don’t want to carry a pack full of rocks around all day like I did even though that’s the best way to do it. Weight vests while you’re practicin’ or running would work, but that’s the slow way of getting’ there. Trainin’s best if you do it all the time – your body’s gotta get used to handlin’ the extra weight ‘till you don’t notice it no more, ‘cause that’s when you can add more weights on. Oyaji may be pretty dumb ‘bout a lot a things, but he sure knows how to build you up fast.”

Ranma grinned suddenly. “You girls ever play dodgeball?”

The four young kunoichi looked at each other nervously before shaking their heads. The phone by the dojo door rang.

“Good, this’ll be fun.” Ranma frowned suddenly. “Gah – I don’t really want to use rocks this time. Grandma, can you get some weight vests and a couple hundred tennis balls by tomorrow mornin’?”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, Ranma-kun. I’ll have Naomi pick them up later this afternoon.”

“Okusama? Ranma-san?” Seiko called out from the phone. “Doctor Ono has arrived and is waiting in the foyer. Also, Jun said Kumiko is starting to become irritated that lunch is getting cold.”

“Thank you, Seiko-chan. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” Aiko clapped her hands twice. “OK girls, you know what happens when Kumiko-chan gets angry. Let’s see if we can’t get the dojo picked up in less than five minutes this time.”


Nerima

The kendoka walked into the local ward office, hanko and koseki tōhon in hand. No matter what tradition demanded, there would always be official paperwork which must be dealt with. She was fortunate that the Registry clerk was the son of a good friend.

Several hours had passed before the kendoka finally left the ward office. It had not been easy to convince the clerk to do as she had asked without informing other parties beforehand, but in the end tradition had prevailed. Officially closing the registry had been hard, and sealing it had been even harder. Fortunately the next task would be much easier. She still had plenty of time to make it to the ad office before the submission deadline for tomorrow’s paper had expired.

Tradition would be followed.


Miharadai General Hospital

“Well, it looks like you got your wish, Michiru,” Haruka Ten’ou said as she viewed the tender scene in front of her. Michiru was lost in dreams of motherhood, holding baby Hotaru gently in her arms. Haruka opened the door of the red convertible and waited while her girlfriend sat down in the car, virtually oblivious to her surroundings.

“Papa makes one and Mama makes two, but Baby makes the family grow,” Michiru crooned as she touched her finger to Hotaru’s nose. This elicited a giggle from the purple eyed infant.

Haruka shook her head as she climbed into the driver’s seat. It was apparent fate was not done with the two senshi yet; they had barely started their planned whirlwind of travel and relaxation before being drawn back to Juuban. Evidently now it was time to tie up the loose ends.

The convertible’s wheels screeched as Haruka gunned the powerful little car’s engine. It shot out of the hospital grounds and merged with the traffic beyond.


Nerima

Kasumi watched as her youngest sister trudged wearily up the stairs to her room. Finals were a little over a week away and Akane’s schoolwork had been sliding rapidly downhill. Kasumi had gotten several calls from the school counselor inquiring about Ranma-kun’s prolonged absence, and the subject of Akane’s grades had naturally followed suit.

Akane was in definite danger of being held back, and that was something the elder Tendō could simply not allow. Although she was glad that her sister was finally acknowledging the feelings she held for Ranma-kun, it wasn’t the proper thing to let that interfere with her greater duty to the family.

Kasumi assembled a serving tray with tea and a big plate of her sister’s favorite cookies. It was time for a little gentle guidance.


Juuban

Usagi Sōmeko Serenity Tsukino Chiba, Princess of Crystal Tokyo, Defender of the Realm, known in this time as “Chibi-Usa” to her friends, Sailor Chibi-Moon to the other senshi, and “spore” to her future mother-to-be, sat dejectedly on the swings of the park. The sounds of her friends playing grated harshly on her ears.

It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t FAIR. Hotaru-chan COULDN’T be dead – she was her bestest friend. Usagi knew she had heard Hotaru-chan herself, she knew it was Hotaru-chan who had given back her heart crystal.

Why did Hotaru-chan have to go away? It wasn’t FAIR.

Usagi pulled Luna-P out of storage. Everything was all wrong; even Luna-P had stopped working. She could store and retrieve the cat-faced ball, but it no longer responded to any other command. She couldn’t even talk to Puu.

Puu would know. Puu always knew EVERYTHING. With Luna-P not responding Usagi had no way of talking to Puu.

It just wasn’t RIGHT.


Suginami

Ranma flopped down on her futon. WHAT a day. Doc Tofu had run her through the wringer, and she still couldn’t get used to the amount of poking and prodding a girl needed when the doc gave her the “complete” set of tests.

If he hadn’t been a martial artist himself and explained why all of those tests were needed, especially the poking inside “down there”, she would have clobbered him into the next ward – doctor or not.

Ranma shuddered at the thought. Doc Tofu had run a few of those tests before when she’d first met him at the Nerima clinic, but they had never caused the physical reactions that occurred earlier today. She had never had her nerves tingle and jump on her that way before, nor had she previously experienced the intensely heated pressure which had built up in her groin when Tofu had felt around inside of her for … what did he call it … “polyps and other abnormalities”.

Not to mention how utterly mortified she had become when she started “leaking” in the middle of that examination. She was going to have to train extra hard if she wanted to regain the control over her female body like she had before – no matter what Eiko said about this being “normal”.

Ranma, your female body is functioning correctly in response to the inadvertent stimulus applied by Doctor Ono. I’ve repaired a significant amount of neural damage since we first met, most of which had been centered about responses to sexual stimuli. You will need to learn how to cope with these new feelings, not suppress them, if you ever wish to have any sort of normal relationship in the future.

“That doesn’t mean I gotta like it, Eiko,” Ranma growled. “I fought real hard to get both forms trained up right, and I don’t like to think I’m losin’ control of that now.

It’s not a matter of losing control, Ranma. There is a whole new set of techniques for you to explore which will put you in good stead with your chosen life mate. These techniques take advantage of the natural responses you experienced earlier today. If you attempt to simply suppress your body’s normal reactions to this particular form of stimulus, you will be incapable of maintaining any form of long term relationship.

“Techniques, huh?” Ranma’s expression turned thoughtful. “Are there any scrolls or manuals for this stuff?”

Ranma could feel the mirth bubbling across the mental link. “There certainly are. Although I am somewhat unsure as to what is available in your current era, I have numerous treatises stored on the subject that date back to the Silver Millennium. The physiology of your race hasn’t changed enough to make them irrelevant, and there are numerous other sources of information available to you elsewhere. Also, there is a considerable amount of self-exploration you can perform which will give you direct experience, and you are fortunate to be able to explore both genders in person. Most of your race is not capable of such a feat.

“Cool. Y’mean the damn curse is good for somethin’ ‘sides cagin’ free food?”

Ranma, you should stop belittling your ability to experience life in both genders. While I understand the reason it has aggravated you in the past, you will shortly have the ability to control the triggering of the transformation. This is a priceless gift for one of your race.

“Yeah, sure,” Ranma grumbled. “Speakin’ of which, how am I supposed to find this trainee senshi and the key you’ve been goin’ on about? Tokyo’s a pretty big city, y’know.”

This should not pose too great a difficulty. While my … relationship … with my former Guardian was somewhat unsatisfactory, my ability to see and hear through her own senses remained unimpeded. Sailor Pluto kept close track of the senshi trainee, who is known by the nickname of Chibi-Usa. If you will close your eyes and relax, I will attempt to impress an image of Chibi-Usa in your mind for your perusal.

Ranma closed her eyes and cleared her thoughts.

Snigger

Snigger

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA …” She laughed so hard she had to curl in a ball to regain her breath.

Eiko blinked.

Midori was at the top of the stairs when she heard Ranma’s outburst. She looked around the corner of the hallway into the room only to see her cousin convulsing on her futon. “Ranma, are you alright?”

“P-p-p-pink-k … c-c-c-c-carrotssss …” she managed to stutter before succumbing to further hysterics. She started banging her fist against the futon repeatedly.

Midori smiled at the sight. She walked in and sat down on the edge of the futon. While she had no idea what had started this laughing fit, it was infinitely better than the morosely depressed aura which had been permeating Ranma as of late.

Ranma’s hysterical laughter consumed her for several minutes. She needed the release and the image of the youngest senshi was just so STUPID. Once the laughter hit it wouldn’t stop; she kicked and pounded and rolled back and forth in unbridled mirth until she was finally able to bring herself back under control. She rolled onto her back and stared blearily at the ceiling, unclenching her tearing eyes amidst the random shudders and spasms of her just-concluded fit.

“Oh man …” Ranma shuddered once more. “Thanks, Eiko. I haven’t laughed like that in ages. Evening, Midori.”

“Good evening, Ranma,” Midori replied. “Care to let me in on the joke?”

“I don’t wanna think about it.” Ranma suppressed a snigger. “I’ll just lose it all over again.” She rolled over on her side and propped her head up with a hand. “You’ll have t’ see it yourself to believe it. P-pink c-c-carrot head …”

Ranma began snickering again. Two seconds later she was fully back in the throes.

Midori couldn’t stop herself from chuckling. Ranma’s laughter was contagious – even if it was more than a trifle hysterical.

Fortunately it took considerably less time for Ranma to reign herself in this time. Once the shudders passed she pushed herself upright and voiced a big sigh. “Man, I gotta stop this – my ribs hurt.”

Midori softly brushed a hand across Ranma’s shoulder. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah thanks, Midori,” Ranma returned with a truly genuine smile. She struggled to her feet. “I gotta go t’ bed, I’m totally wasted.”

Midori arched an eyebrow as she stood up. “The futon IS on the floor, you know.”

Ranma stuck her tongue out for a second. “Bathroom first – I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants. Girl form just can’t hold it as well.”

Midori’s gentle laughter followed them both out of the bedroom.


Ranma snuggled under the covers of her futon, grateful for the extra warmth the thick down-filled duvet bestowed. One thing she had recently become aware of was how friggin’ cold her girl form got when it wasn’t actively shielded by her ki. She never would have noticed this before.

“Eiko?” she quietly called out to the darkness.

Yes, Ranma?

“You know where the c-carrot he-he-head is now?” Ranma suppressed yet another round of hysterical giggles with difficulty.

As of a week ago she was living with her family in Minato-ku’s Azabu-Juuban neighborhood. Tomorrow would be a reasonable time to seek her out; she often spends Saturday afternoon with her friends at Prince Arisugawa Memorial Park in nearby Minami-Azabu. The elementary school she attends provides chaperoned playtime after halfday, and you can attempt to procure the Minor Key with little fear of interference from the other senshi in this environment.

“I don’t reckon she’s gonna just hand it over if I asked for it, huh?”

That is highly unlikely, Ranma. She is, after all, temporally displaced and the Minor Key is her only direct means of transportation to and from the Time-Space Corridor.

“Temporally displaced? That’s … umm … she doesn’t belong in our time?”

Correct. Chibi-Usa is from a narrow stream future that currently has a high probability of instantiation. Sailor Pluto has repeatedly intervened with the natural timestream to reinforce this specific future’s probability. Chibi-Usa’s presence in your time is a key part of a temporal feedback loop; one which will most likely result in the death of over ninety five percent of the Earth’s population and a near total destruction of the planet’s biosphere.

“Whaa ... but ... I thought ... they were suppos’ … the senshi are gonna kill off the whole human race?” she queried in a shaky voice.

Incorrect. Sailor Pluto was attempting to bring about a certain sequence of events which would have killed nearly the entire population, but a select few would have been protected and preserved.

Ranma’s mood quickly darkened. “Oh, I get it – they’re just gonna kill everyone who don’t go along with ‘em.”

Ranma, there is nothing inherently wrong with what my former Guardian was attempting. Almost every previous Guardian has made the long term survival of their own race a primary object of their office – Sailor Pluto is no different in this regard. Your planet’s biosphere is currently being destroyed piecemeal at a rapid pace, and your race’s population is expanding at a dangerous and totally uncontrolled rate. Humanity has already flirted with extinction several times; some form of population and resource control will eventually have to be imposed if you wish to survive in the long term while being limited to a single planet. Sailor Pluto’s solution would have accomplished both objectives handily, but it would have done so in a rather extreme manner. There are numerous other options available to your race to accomplish the same results, most of which aren’t quite as draconian as Pluto’s Crystal Tokyo.

Ranma shivered. “Can anything be done t’ stop it?”

It is now somewhat doubtful events will unfold in accordance to Sailor Pluto’s original plans, Ranma. Crystal Tokyo requires several additional direct interventions before it can come into being – as long as you do not follow her directions it is unlikely to happen on its own. You still need to actively counter several events if you wish to avoid the total depopulation of the biosphere, but it should be possible for you to at least partially undo the current divergence of the timestream caused by Sailor Pluto’s actions. The number of sentient lives you can save by doing so would be considerable. Of course, your planet’s current population issues will still need to be addressed.

Ranma stared up at the ceiling. This wasn’t some trivial personal problem, it was huge … no, gigantic. The fate of the world …

… the fate of the WORLD …

Ranma shuddered. This was serious. It completely dwarfed everything she had gone through and made all her own troubles seem trivial and insignificant in comparison.

And SHE was supposed to fix it all?

How the HELL was she supposed to fix it all?

It wasn’t possible, it just wasn’t possible, it was way too big …

Ranma?

She couldn’t even win one lousy fight. How could ANYONE expect a screw-up like her to be able to …

Ranma?

“Yeah, Eiko?”

You should understand that you are eminently qualified to accomplish this task. In fact, you are the only one so qualified.

“Huh?”

It was not on a whim that I chose you for my Guardian, Ranma. If I hadn’t been able to contact you before you had perished in your battle against the dragon child, I would have been forced to seek my Guardian elsewhere. ‘Elsewhere’ in this case being defined as another inhabited planet, since no one else on your world met all of the proper qualifications for Guardianship.

Eiko sensed the incredulity in its chosen companion. Morale building at the moment would be of considerable benefit.

Ranma, I know you perceive your encounter with the dragon child in an extremely negative manner. However, there is one very significant aspect of the conflict you have consistently failed to consider – you survived. He did not. Admittedly, you had some small assistance in your survival, but the end result is the same. You faced an opponent who was significantly more powerful with little to no information available on which to base either strategy or tactics, and you still managed to battle your opponent on a near-equal basis throughout the length of the encounter. A feat quite noteworthy, as it was entirely the result of your own talents and abilities. I have no doubt whatsoever that in your tenure as Guardian you will be highly successful in whatever endeavor you apply yourself to.

Ranma didn’t respond. Eiko’s calm statement that she – and she alone – was the only one out of everyone who could be Guardian was more than a little difficult for her to accept.

And Eiko’s bold pronouncement about her abilities really didn’t jive with her own recent experiences at all.

… but it did feel … really nice.

You should attempt to get some rest, Ranma. Tomorrow is likely to be rather busy.


Eiko waited patiently for its Guardian to fall asleep. There were several things that required its attention before Ranma arrived for the imprinting process and it would be far easier to accomplish these without having to explain the process while it was occurring. Eiko needed a more detailed scan of Ranma’s neural pathways than could be accomplished from a distance, but even a partial scan allowed it to preset a good portion of the imprinting routine.

And the more accurate the routine preset, the less time the imprinting would take. This could become important if Sailor Pluto was able to actively oppose the imprint while it was engaged.

Eiko would not allow that to occur.