Kunoification Ch2

Kunoification
By Ozzallos
Edited by Quizer

Chapter 2

“It's over, isn't it?”

Had the parents heard these words, it would have spelled certain doom for the pair now facing one another in the confines of the Tendo Dojo. Their parents would have immediately dropped into DEFCON one in a last desperate attempt to marry the wayward couple whose destiny had been decided for them nearly eighteen years ago. If that weren't enough, each had their own individual disasters waiting for them in the wings. Had Ranma's fiancées heard those words uttered, whatever fleeting peace he had would be destroyed beyond every recognition in their attempts to wed and bed him. If the school knew Akane was free, the Furinkan militia known as the Hentai Horde would be reactivated and its former officers given battlefield commissions. Then there was the matter of Nabiki. It didn't take much imagination to figure out what would happen on that front if word got out there.

In short, they'd have to kill anybody who heard those words spoken aloud.

Getting some time alone together was remarkably easy for Akane and Ranma. He had just come home after piecing himself back together at Kuno's, to an Akane who was similarly ravaged by the day's events. It had only been through the liberal application of violence that she had been able to maintain a twenty foot zone of exclusion around her person. Even Nodoka had been sufficiently cowed by the crater that now resided in the front courtyard, courtesy of the youngest Tendo's fist. Then Ranma came home and it was immediately obvious that private time would be at a premium. That was, after all, why he had retreated to Kuno's to begin with. In the end, getting time away with Akane had been quite simple. All it took was an overused insult concerning Akane's masculinity and a subtle wink in her direction. Akane got the message and promptly arranged for his departure via her fist. After that, it had been easy to circle around and meet in the dojo covertly. Not even Nabiki was going to risk tailing either at the present levels of stress and violence displayed today.

Akane looked to the pigtailed martial artist before her and considered the words herself with a frown. “If they had just left it alone...”

“Wishful thinkin'.” Ranma commented despondently. “They ain't ever gonna give us a moment's peace, married or no.”

The girl with cobalt blue hair nodded. It just wasn't going to work. Heck, they had nearly three years and two weddings to be convinced of that fact. After all, you can only spit into the wind for so long before you get tired of the soaking, and Akane and Ranma were drenched. “We can't exactly just end it, you know...”

Ranma sighed. “Yeah, I know. Damn them.” The couple now stared off into space as they each sought some way - any way - to extract themselves from their predicament. “And we can't just tell 'em outright.”

A horrified look crossed Akane's face. “Are you kidding? God knows what they'd do if we did that!”

The boy merely grunted in agreement. No way could they tell the parents outright. “Right, and we can't let on to the fact either...”

“Which means...”

“...We're gonna have to keep up appearances until we find a way outta this mess.” Ranma finished Akane's spoken thought.

“If we can stay sane that long...” She grumbled, a sentiment Ranma wholeheartedly agreed with.

“Yeah well...” Ranma groused, “As long as I keep up with the insults and you with the mallets, it should buy us some time.”

Now it was Akane's turn to sigh. “But I don't want to mallet anybody!” Ranma shot her an amused look. “Okay, sometimes I do, but I just want a normal life! Is that too much to ask?”

Ranma's amusement grew. “Around here?”

Akane sniffed with mock contempt. “Around you.”

The martial artist's shoulders slumped and his mirth died away. “Truth hurts.”

The youngest Tendo closed the distance between them and put a gentle hand on his face. “I didn't mean it like that... It's just... I wouldn't mind a normal boyfriend from time to time.”

Ranma took his eyes off the floor and met hers. “I know... not like I can help being a walking tempest of destruction. Like I'm the freakin' god of chaos incarnate or somthin'.”

“Or maybe somebody is pulling on the strings of our life behind the scenes?” Akane added with a slight smile. Ranma returned it.

“Exactly.”

They both smiled, finding a small point of humor in an otherwise hopeless situation. It faded quickly with Akane's next words. “So where does that leave us?”

“Same ol' same ol', I guess.” Ranma admitted. “I can probably keep 'em off your back at least, being the scapegoat and all.”

Akane's frown deepened. He was right...The truth did hurt. And not just him. Even after she had stopped reflexively blaming him for every wrong under the sun, Ranma still caught more than his share of flak; if not from the other fiancées, then the rivals. Those occurrences had been steadily dwindling, but the parents... The parents were the constant in both their lives and whenever something went wrong, it was traditionally his fault. “That'll keep them at arm's length for a little while, but what about a long term plan?”

“Plan?” Ranma grinned “You oughta know me better than that.”

“How could I forget,” Akane snorted. “Mister 'make it up as I go'.”

“My specialty.” Ranma stuck out his tongue in retaliation. “Don't worry. I'll figure something out. For both of us.”

Akane Tendo arched an eyebrow in exaggerated skepticism. Truth be told, that was one ability she had total confidence in. Ranma didn't plan per se, but he was a master chop artist. His ability to adapt to any situation and formulate tactics on the fly was second only to his near legendary skill as a martial arts prodigy. Lord knew she had seen it first-hand enough times to be totally secure in that aspect of his abilities. You could only watch him turn near impossible situations around so many times before just accepting the undeniable facts. But he wouldn't have needed to in the first place if his mother hadn't... “Why couldn't it just go our way for once?”

Ranma shrugged. “Beats the hell outta me.” Then he favored Akane with a fond look. “But at least I got somethin' outta this whole mess.”

Akane's serious mask began to reflect Ranma's own warm smile. “Yeah, I think I did too.”

The rest of the night was nearly text book with one exception, in that a friendship had survived where an engagement had not. Soun, Genma and Nodoka's attempts at rapid damage control were circumvented through a concept previously unknown to the engaged couple - Tactics. The predictable attempts at parental intervention were fended off as Ranma and Akane tag-teamed off one another. If one got mired in a senseless debate over mistresses, engagements or the like, the other would throw out a well timed insult that invariably drew both into a circular argument that derailed and excluded any engagement plans the adults were attempting to construct. If things got really bad, Akane would break out the mallet, which was all but guaranteed to break off any negotiations.

After all, it was tough for them to corner Ranma while she was busy chasing him with a hammer.

“AKANE KNOWS?” Nabiki Tendo's outburst drew the attention of the entire establishment Ranma, Tatewaki and herself now ate in. Even as the words left her lips, she realized how vast an understatement they were. Akane didn't simply 'know', she was, in fact, complicit in the entire cover up. Nabiki desperately fought to keep the food in her mouth from falling out.

“You mean you didn't?” Ranma asked, twirling her pigtail innocently. The withering glare she earned elicited a smile from the Kuno.

Nabiki managed to ignore the feminine manner in which Ranma played with her hair. “You know damn well I didn't!” She snapped.

Ranma dropping the innocent act in favor of her own smile. “Aw come on, Nabs... You’re so easy!” Another crinkled face from Nabiki indicated the irony was not lost on her either.

Nabiki forced her way past the irritation in favor of some small measure of self control. The two grinning idiots across from her weren't helping. “Okay, is anybody else privy to this scheme of yours that I should know about?”

“Nay.” Kuno shook his head as Ranma allowed an arm to snake around her possessively. The redhead seemed to melt into it. “Unless we are to be surprised ourselves.”

Nabiki eyed the pair doubtfully. Akane as a collaborator threw every scenario she was devising out of whack, as it indicated one significant faction in the fiancée wars had just been neutralized. That still left Ukyo and the Amazons, however. Nabiki began running down the remaining likely scenarios, an ability that was second nature to her thought processes. She sincerely doubted Ukyo would be a problem. Ranma and the Okonomiyaki master had been friends long enough to where their friendship would overcome the initial bluster the news created. The Amazons wouldn't take it so lightly, however. Even if they accepted the fact that Ranma was 'going girl', they were more than likely to try and marry her off to another Amazon male, seeing how it didn't seem to be a problem for her anymore. Nabiki shivered at that last thought and a very Shampoo-like voice crept through her head. Too-too weird.

But the parents... “You do realize the time bomb you've created here?” The mischievous smiles faded quickly. Obviously they did, Nabiki noted. Part of her delighted at her ability to reduce their playful attitude to ash while the other was staring at the impending apocalypse forming on the horizon. Akane was the last hope for their fathers' 'family honor' and if she was okay with all of this... And why did she have feeling that there was another shoe just waiting to be dropped?

“Yeah, Mom's gonna have my head.” Ranma stated with solemn gravity. ”Pops and your old man I could care less about. They wore out their cries of honor a long time ago.” Tatewaki nodded with her words, giving her a comforting squeeze. “Hell, we were almost over the damn mistress incident too.”

“We cannot hope to keep such a secret from the world forever, my radiant beauty.” Nabiki was still in awe over how Ranma simply accepted Kuno's indulgent titles for her, where as yesterday he was getting beat into the nearest wall for them.

Ranma shrugged with a depressed air about her. “Yeah well, I can wish, can't I?” Kuno simply nodded, like the perfect understanding boyfriend he was supposed to be. Nabiki suppressed a twitch. The scene in front of her reminded her of another nagging question...

“So all those fights before school between the both of you...?” She all but knew the answer. Still, she wanted to hear it for herself.

“My love pulls her punches quite masterfully.” Kuno smiled knowingly and Ranma's face glowed a slight pink.

“That and we kinda have been teachin' each other.” Ranma found Tatewaki's smile infectious.

“Teaching each other?”

“Yep, Tachi's pretty good with a katana.” The upperclassman inclined his head slightly with her praise.

“And Ra-chan has been teaching me her art as well.” Tatewaki explained. All Nabiki could do was nod dumbly. Ranma? Use a sword? Kuno... Not use one? She wasn't sure which concept was more outlandish. A waiter came by and laid down the check, to which Ranma's date laid out a large bill. “Perhaps we should continue the telling outside.”

Nabiki eyed the money as the pair stood up from the table. “Aren't you going to wait for the change?”

“No.” Came the simple reply.

Nabiki eyed Ranma now. “That's an awful lot of money to just leave behind.”

“It's called a tip, Nabs.”

Nabiki Tendo fell over.

“Airen!”

“Ranma-honey!”

“Ranma-samaaaaa!”

The Airen-Ranma-Honey-Sama in question let loose an involuntary shiver as three separate forces of feminine nature came to bear on the wayward martial artist. Since the collapse of the second wedding, the pressure exerted by the remaining girls increased exponentially, and what began as an effort to screen Akane from her parents rapidly degenerated into panicked retreat. It might not have been so bad if the aforementioned fiancées hadn't declared a temporary ceasefire in order to corner their prey more effectively. Ranma doubled back to the dojo, hoping to God that the same tactics that worked on their parents worked on the fiancées.

Ranma round the corner and leapt over the wall, finding Akane helping Kasumi hang clothing in the dojo courtyard. “Akane! Large-waisted Tomboy!” Akane almost couldn't suppress the smile as the three fiancées hopped over the wall behind him. She managed to reign it in and instead affected a look of rage, calling her ki mallet into existence. She tossed the hammer from one hand to the other and wound back, seeing the relief in Ranma's eyes.

“Two timing pervert baka!”

WHAM!

The resultant ballistic arc took Ranma on a twenty second blur over the Neriman suburb and promptly deposited him into a local water fountain with a geyser of cold water, which frankly amazed Ranma to no end. Between the water attraction inherent in the curse and Akane's ability to punt him into the nearest body of water, Ranma found it really, really creepy... Especially since they were now on speaking terms. The drenched redhead pulled herself up from the fountain and mentally calculated the angle of her departure, time traveled, direction and estimated distance. See? Those math classes were coming in handy after all. Just outside the shopping district, Ranma noted, realizing that it wasn't far enough away to lose the rampaging fiancées. She need time to think, time to unwind and time to keep from snapping, and the only place that could fill those impossible requisites was a place of impossibility to begin with.

Ranma was over the Kuno estate walls easily and began the task of avoiding the various traps and pitfalls as she traversed the property to the back door. She tracked right with light steps to avoid the tripwire to a shuriken trap, only to have to hop over a covered pit of sharpened bamboo sticks. It caused her to smile. If nothing else, the Kunos' were studious in the matter of home defense. Not one trap was in the same place since her last visit. Ranma smiled, as it gave her something to focus on besides the problems waiting for her back in the real world.

The key slid into the back door with a well oiled click and Ranma paused before turning it. She cocked her head curiously and spoke into empty space. “You ain't plannin' anything stupid are yas?”

The diminutive cat faced ninja leapt into existence, kneeling at her person a few feet away. “Only to inform you that Master Kuno is practicing in the estate gym.”

“Right.” She replied dryly. “You do know I'm a guy, right?”

Sasuke looked up, making eye contact with the redhead for the first time. “Of course, Mistress.” Ranma barely suppressed a flinch at the title. “I am not quite as blinded by love as Master Kuno.” ...Or as unbalanced, the Ninja thought silently, a thought he was sure Ranma shared.

“Okay, so why ya playin' along?”

“I would not be able to convince him otherwise.” Sasuke frowned. “To obstruct you would be foolish under such circumstance.”

“Not like I haven't tried to tell him myself.” Ranma grumbled, and Sasuke nodded with sympathy.

“Which is the only reason I tolerate your continued presence.” Ranma blinked at the retainer's directness. “Perhaps he will come around in time and we can all end this masquerade.”

Which would also deny her of her only safe haven at the moment, but that's not today. Ranma shrugged. “The gym?” Sasuke nodded. She twisted the key and opened the door, taking one step inside before reality caught up to her once more. “And exactly where is that...?”

“I strike!” Tatewaki stepped through his kendo technique, blurring into a group of three straw practice dummies. His wooden practice blade whipped around into a narrow arc, cutting one of the figures down in a clean slice. The upperclassman reversed the blade and sidestepped between the remaining targets, taking them out with surgical precision... And style.

“Those theatrics are gonna get you killed.”

The Kendoist froze mid stroke with those words, and he turned to find a sight most welcome, in spite of the criticism which blew by unnoticed. “Even the art of war requires style and grace, my Pigtailed Goddess.” He smiled with a hint of condescension, as if he were instructing a small child on the basics of the alphabet. Tatewaki stepped over one of the fallen straw targets to join the redhead. “Truly, it is the mark of a warrior-poet such as myself.”

Ranma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and while you're busy being all poetic, I'll be kickin' yer butt." Tatewaki seemed to consider this as he led his goddess through the mansion halls.

"Admittedly you are one of the most formidable maidens I have happened across in the combat arts. In that, I am not sure whether to thank or curse the wretched Saotome's influence on you." Ranma shook her head as she trailed behind the upperclassman. Did she hurt him for the insult or beam with pride over the compliment? In the end, she called it up as a draw and decided not to pummel the kendoist. Today.

“One of these days you’ll realize we’re the same person, baka…”

“Indeed, one of these days we’ll purge you of his foul influence.” He nodded, as if his words were a natural continuation of the redhead’s thought. “But I’ll not disturb your peace by broaching such a topic.”

Damn, Ranma grumbled to herself, lamenting the fact that the kendoist kept taking away her excuses to bite his head off. She shook her head in frustration. Whatever… Ranma glanced around as they journeyed though another large hallway decorated with painting and sculptures. “So where we goin’ anyway?”

“I have had a feast prepared in your honor, my pigtailed goddess.” Kuno returned with a self-satisfied smile, causing the aforementioned pigtailed girl to frown.

“I haven’t been here ten minutes.”

Tatewaki waved the fact aside. “I prepare a feast every night on the chance that you should arrive unexpectedly.”

Ranma nearly stumbled in the upperclassman’s wake. She hadn’t been to his house in days. Weeks, even! And he was having a meal cooked for her every night! Part of her brain couldn’t help but to admire the sheer amount of insanity necessary to persist in such delusional behavior, while the other part… “Ain’t that a tad, eh… excessive?”

“Nonsense.” He replied as the pair approached a pair of rich oak doors. “My sister has accused me of such behavior, but one has to consider the source of those accusations.”

That only makes you both— Ranma’s thought process stopped cold as Tatewaki Kuno opened the double doors, admitting her to The Feast. The words were even capitalized in her mind as she stepped took a tentative step into the massive dining room, the aroma of finely prepared food wafting around her. The martial artists’ cheek twitched. The amount of food was simply... She blinked. Then blinked again. Ranma Saotome, Heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts was literally stunned, and it had nothing to do with her normally healthy appetite. She turned slowly back to Kuno, who had held the door open for her.

“Every night?”

“Of course.” Tatewaki returned in utter seriousness. “I shan’t be found negligent in my duties to provide you a place of comfort and relaxation.”

She opened her mouth but words failed to come out. Her mind, however, was working well into the redline. A feast. For me. Every single goddamn night! For months! Oh, there was no doubt that Tatewaki was loony beyond even her wildest imagination, however nobody but nobody had ever given her that sort of consideration. Sure, the fiancées chased and bribed her with meals on occasion, but to go through this sort of trouble every single night just on the off chance she arrived? It was--

“Is it not sufficient, my warrior maiden?”

Ranma snapped back to the real world and released the breath she had been holding, staring up at Kuno. “Uh, no, I mean yeah… yeah. Totally.” She shook her head clear of the mental clutter occupying it. “I mean, look Kuno, ya can’t be doing this every night.”

Her host blinked without comprehension. “Of course I can. You must know money is no—“

“Ya just can’t.” Ranma interrupted, causing Kuno to cock his head curiously, but still devoid of comprehension. “It’s not like I’m gonna be stopping by everyday, right?”

“No matter.” Kuno stated with certainty, folding his arms. “It is a negligible expense and your—“

“Stop it!” Ranma shrieked as her anger finally found something to anchor to. “Just stop it already! Nobody does this crap for me! Ever! Not my mom, not my dad, not my damn fiancées! There’s always strings attached! Everybody wants something from me, so tell me, Kuno, whaddya want!”

The kendoist studied his pig-tailed goddess carefully as she pulled back from the edge of hyper ventilation before answering. “Admittedly, I do vie for your affections, but that much is obvious. Nay, I desire naught more than your well-being.”

“I…! You…!” Regardless of how much she tried to force words from her mouth, all attempts failed as her anger was absorbed into the insane, eccentric sponge named Tatewaki. And the worst thing about it was that he was right. Ranma knew she had gone into this eyes wide open. Desperate for some measure of peace, but open. It wasn’t as if he had hidden his true nature from her either, and there was something hard at work in the back of her mind, behind the clutter.

Somebody gives a damn.

No, Ranma mentally amended. Somebody gives a damn about a busty five foot one inch tall redhead, not Ranma Saotome. Still, she couldn't help herself. It felt nice... Nice to not be just another means to an end for once. After a couple more attempts at communication, the girl lapsed into silence, first glowering at the Kuno, then loosing a heavy sigh. "Look, ya can't keep doin' this."

"And why is that, my goddess?"

"Because you can't!" Ranma bit back, then took another deep breath. "Jeez, Kuno… I mean, it's just… Too much. Way too much." Tatewaki continued to stare at her without a clue, so she elaborated to the best of her abilities. "It's another obligation. You have a dinner here every night and I feel pressure to do somethin' about it. Don't need no more obligations. That's the last the last thing I need."

The Kendoist scratched his chin, affecting a noble pose. “Perhaps it is thus. Indeed, I have thoughts on how you may deal with the pressures of your life, but come. For now, our repast awaits.”

Oh, God, Ranma thought as she stepped through the doors and into her own personal twilight zone. Life must be seriously screwed up when a Kuno starts giving you advice on living. Even so, living on the edge of insanity had its perks, she noted, taking in the spectacle that was The Feast. Duck. Shark fin soup. Dumpling. Sushi of every sort. Her wide eyes endeavored to take the parade of dishes in. Ranma had thought her previous visit to the Kuno mansion had been a feast. She was mistaken. Sadly mistaken. That particular fast food delivery prank had been eclipsed by so many magnitudes it wasn’t even funny. Tatewaki took opportunity of the redhead’s partially stunned state to herd her to one of the intricately carved chairs, pulling it out for her. Ranma took the seat without objection, continuing to stare into the massive spread. Once again, guilt and hunger united to form an incredibly powerful motivator to sit down and at least try the food in front of her.

“Alright, Kuno. Just this once.” She said, reaching for some silverware. It probably was real silver too, Ranma realized as an afterthought.

Tatewaki nodded sympathetically. “Of course. No need to—“

WhiipSNAP!

“YOW!” Ranma snatched her hand back, now pulsing a shade as red as her head. She glared into down the vector of the blur that had snapped at her hand, finding a dark figure stepping out of the candle lit shadows.

“My twisted sister.” Tatewaki frowned and Ranma bolted from her chair with an angry visage plastered across her face.

“Whaddya do that for!”

“That,” Kodachi Kuno cleared the shadows, revealing her elegant dark purple dress laced with flowers. She stretched a pink gymnastics ribbon to tension between her hands.“is the wrong fork.”

The redhead blinked, her anger momentarily stalled. “The wrong…?”

The sister rolled her eyes, stepping to the opposite end of the expansive dining table. “While my brother may be willing to overlook your peasant ways, I shall not have you disgracing these walls with your barbarian eating habits.”

“Sister, this is not the time for a—“ Tatewaki was cut of by a swift gesture from Kodachi.

“I’ll not tolerate it.” She continued haughtily. “Of course, formal training for such a waif would truly be a futile cause.”

Ranma leaned forward with the challenge, grinding her teeth. “I’ve had plenty of formal training!”

Kodachi turned her full attention back to the girl with an arched eyebrow. “Oh?”

Ranma folded her arms with a confident smirk. “I’m a master of Anything Goes Dining!”

Now it was Kodachi’s turn to look befuddled, then disdain. “Anything goes… Ah, now I remember. Your unladylike fascination with martial arts. And tell me, how did you come to be a recipient of this primitive training?”

"Picolette Chardin the Second." Ranma replied. "Beat him at his own game!"

Kodachi’s eyes widened with the explanation, then narrowed with irritation. “The Chardins? That family is truly a blight on nobility everywhere.”

For once, Tatewaki nodded in agreement with his sister. “It is truly thus, my goddess. Any family whose pedigree is built on the ability to inhale their food lacks the refinement to be named among true nobility, doubly so when such standards are used to measure one's future spouse.”

Says something about my old man, Ranma thought with a trace of humor, then considered the Kunos in their rare moment of agreement. “So what are ya sayin'?”

Kodachi brought the entwined ribbon to her lip with her fingers as she contemplated the matter. “How should I put this…” An evil smile adorned her face, eyes glittering. “It would be remiss to leave you with such a pathetic view of true nobility, therefore I can only think of one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

The evil smile grew, and Kodachi tore away her gown to reveal a form fitting black and purple leotard. She began to twirl the ribbon at high speeds. “Your real training begins now.”

Nabiki Tendo took another look at the pair next to her as they strolled down the sidewalk and away from the restaurant where Kuno had left his sizable tip. She was beginning to realize the catalyst that brought this insane pairing into being, but that didn’t make it any less unbelievable. Ranma walked peacefully beside Kuno, contently wrapped around his arm while the upperclassman had his coiled around her waist. The middle Tendo shook her head with incredulity for what had to have been the hundredth time that night, thanking God she was out in the cool night and its fresh air.

She needed it at this point.

“You can’t go home like that.” She conjured the topic out of thin air, desperate to break the romantic silence drifting around Ranma and Tatewaki. It was practically suffocating. Of course, she could go home like that, but doing so might not be conducive to her health.

The content redhead shrugged, unmoved by the observation. “I just change over at Tachi’s house if I want. After that, it ain’t nothin’ to come home a girl after Akane mallets me away.”

“Right, I almost forgot. Partners in crime.” Nabiki noted blandly, earning an amused smile from the redhead. “So how did you both—“

“OOOHO HO HO HO HOOOO!”

The sound sent the slightest of shivers down Nabiki’s spine as she turned, finding Kodachi Kuno perched atop a light pole, her black on black gown fluttering in the slight breeze. The black rose in her mouth was a nice touch too. She removed it and pointed down to Ranma. “There you are, redheaded harlot! Tell me where my Ranma-sama is, else I shall discipline you!”

Nabiki watched Tatewaki make eye contact with his sister, subtly shaking his head, while Ranma simply smiled. “Hey, Ko-chan, what’s up?”

The insane sparkle in the young woman’s eyes diminished slightly as she looked curiously upon the couple, then Nabiki, then back to Ranma. With a slight shrug, she hopped down from the pole gracefully, landing in front of the trio. Kodachi gave Nabiki one last look.

“I see.” She stated, then turned her full attention to Ranma. “I’ve merely come by to see if you’ve heard anything from my beloved Ranma-sama?”

Ranma affected a slightly disappointed look. “Sorry, Ko-chan. You know how he is.”

“Alas, I do.” Kodachi sighed wistfully. “While he is the wild stallion of his namesake, his constant training missions do border on tedium.”

“Yeah, know what you mean.” Ranma took her hand, and patted it sympathetically. Kodachi took it gracefully before moving on to other topics.

"You will, of course, be present for the St. Hebereke ball?" She asked, prompting a smile from Ranma. "I should be disappointed not to see my lessons pay off."

"Like I would miss it." The redhead smiled.

It was all Nabiki could do not to gawk at the scene. Granted, Ranma had hinted at their current state of relations, but this… THIS would drive lesser women absolutely nutty. Ranma was actually consoling Kodachi like a good friend while talking about herself in the third person?

"If you should see Ranma, please be sure to tell him that I seek his presence most passionately?" The taller girl asked hopefully and the shorter one gave her a reassuring smile.

"Of course I will."

Kodachi gave Ranma's hand a slight squeeze before pulling away, then paused, turning back to Nabiki as if she were an afterthought. Her voice dropped several degrees as she addressed the Tendo. "And should your meddlesome schemes drive a wedge between my brother and Ra-chan, or push her back to my beloved Ranma-sama, I shall ensure you regret the remaining days of your life in a most exquisite manner."

It was all Nabiki could do to retain some semblance of composure as Kodachi Kuno stared her down with a look every bit as icy as any she was capable of producing herself. She didn't like dealing with Kodachi on a normal day because not only could she be every bit as ruthless, but totally lacked any inhibitions to keep that ruthlessness in check. Nabiki's ruthless, privateering nature was on a self controlled leash. Kodachi seemed to have no such governors and Nabiki Tendo knew that was what made her truly dangerous. Selling photos and information was as far as she was willing to interact with the girl, because if push came to shove, extorting Kodachi was like juggling live rattle snakes. You might pull it off, but the consequences of failure would be quite spectacular.

Therefore, it was quite understandable that Nabiki produced a simple nod in deference to her standard witty response.

"I see we have an understanding." Kodachi returned the nod, then erupted into a fit of insane laughter before leaping off into the night via a nearby rooftop. Nabiki stood absolutely still a moment longer before Ranma stepped up to her.

"Sorry 'bout that," Ranma said. "As you can see, she hasn't quite…"

".. gotten it yet," Tatewaki finished as the couple stared at the retreating gymnast. "She has been most resilient to our efforts to…"

"... enlighten her on the matter," Ranma said, returning the favor for Tatewaki.

Nabiki looked from boy to girl.

It took a few moments for her brain to engage at the sight of Ranma and Tatewaki seamlessly finishing each others sentences. They even managed to pull off the other's speech mannerisms. "You don't say," she finally managed with a shake of her head. She took a moment to digest what had just happened before continuing. "Okay, um, where were we?"

"Think it's time to call it a night." Ranma shook her head, eliciting a nod of agreement from her date. "Meetcha back at the dojo, 'kay?"

"Uh, right." Nabiki repeated, still in a slight daze. "Back at the dojo." With that, the woman known as the Ice Queen watched the unlikely couple walk off into the night, hand in hand.

“It just moved! I swear to God!”

Eyes widened at the remark and an angry red glow enveloped the dining room table, courtesy of Akane Tendo. She bolted up from her place, burning down the pigtailed boy across from her with a molten glare.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY!” The youngest Tendo leaned forward, prompting the parents to lean away and out of the line of fire. To be fair, nobody was actually touching Akane’s creation, which could have been loosely identified as teriyaki chicken if said teriyaki chicken were still alive, turned inside out and blackened to crispy elemental carbon blocks. For most of the family, the plan was simple—Admire the crispy blocks of carbon, wait for Ranma to make his inevitable comment concerning his fiancée’s cooking and escape in the ensuing carnage.

The mallet made its appearance, and the family began to lead off from the table in anticipation of the commencement of violence. Even Kasumi began to pull away plates as Akane began her attack run. There was a minor departure from the regular Ranma-Akane dinnertime violence, however, and that was in Nabiki. The middle sister watched with new eyes as the two traded insults; Ranma dodging Akane’s mallet while Akane chased him around the room. A pitcher of water found the formerly male martial artist and the chase was on again, this time with Akane pursuing a red headed pigtailed girl. It was absolutely surreal to realize for the first time that this was all nothing more than an elaborate production designed to throw those around them – including herself – off from the truth. The fact that they played the game so naturally was a revelation in and of itself for the Ice Queen. Of course they did, Nabiki rebuked herself. They’ve only had two and a half years of practice.

“Happy couple, eh, Soun?” Genma commented from across the room as Akane chased Ranma out of the house.

“Indeed they are, old friend.” Soun nodded with an oblivious smile.

Fools. Nabiki thought as she stared after the pair. And not just them. Nabiki shook her head. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t think to follow either her sister or her apparently ex-brother in-law to be. The messes they normally created in their activities tended to be catastrophic for anybody not either a martial artist or used to dodging mallets. Apparently, both had played the natural tendencies of everybody involved to their supreme advantage, and now Nabiki was left wondering what actually did occur in the shadow of their presumed fighting.

With supper safely a loss, Nabiki ducked out into the Tendo courtyard, moving in the last known direction the pair was sighted. The dojo? It was a rather obvious place to hold out, she thought to herself as she quietly stepped around to the main entrance. Two female voices filtered through the doorway, all but inviting the middle Tendo to put her ear to the door for a better take on the conversation.

“…And yesterday we went to the beach. It was absolutely beautiful, like a dream…” Nabiki identified her sister’s voice readily, but the question hung in the air as to who ‘we’ exactly was in the conversation.

“And romantic?” Ranma questioned in a tone that undoubtedly indicated that she expected it was indeed romantic.

“Oh, definitely romantic.” Akane confirmed, leaving the eavesdropping sister slack-jawed. They weren’t just talking about an outing; they were talking about a date! Akane’s date! And Ranma--! Her brain was on the verge of shutting down when the next words she heard refocused her attention abruptly.

“Wait one sec.” Ranma said, then in a louder voice, “Come on in, Nabs!”

Nabiki stiffened with the words, but managed to slid the door open despite the surprise of being found out so quickly. Goddamn martial artists… was her first thought as she stepped across the threshold and into the dojo itself. At its center sat Akane smiling lightly at her, with Ranma sprawled out next to her, also grinning like an idiot.

“About time you showed up, Sis.” Akane poked, motioning her to join their little gathering. “We thought you’d never put two and two together.”

Nabiki winced at the reminder, but Ranma brushed it aside. “Don’t mind her. We went through a lot of trouble to make sure you didn’t put two and two together.”

Their grinning only increased to insufferable levels, forcing the middle Tendo to massage her temples. They were like best friends, sharing a joke. Girlfriends. “Alright already, alright. You got me. Now want to explain just what the hell you two are doing out here?”

“Think that would be obvious, Nabs.” Ranma shrugged, leaning back.

“Just talking.” Akane replied innocently.

"Who was your date?" Nabiki inquired.

"Oh... no one," Akane replied while innocently look toward the ceiling.

Nabiki blinked at her younger sister. "Don't give me that! I clearly heard you! Who is it?"

"Ah, c'mon Nabs," Ranma broke in. "You know that a girl has to have some secrets."

Nabiki gave Ranma a half glare, half pout as Akane giggled at having caught her older sister so flat footed.

“My ass!” Nabiki exploded suddenly, causing the pair to blink cluelessly. It only served to push her annoyance to unheard of levels. “Ranma just got done insulting your cooking no less than ten minutes ago and now you’re out here all buddy-buddy! I know it’s supposed to be an act, but… but…”

“‘Kane-chan’s actually a decent cook.” Ranma pointed out, causing Akane to nod. “She has to try pretty hard these days to do that.”

“So even the cooking is…?” Nabiki grasped at the inevitable conclusion. Out of the entire scene, she was sure at least that part was real. Akane equaled toxic culinary delights. It was the way of things. Always had been. Oh sure, everything after that was undoubtedly a convenient byproduct of the food, but…

“Ha!” Akane smirked. “Even I wouldn’t try that stuff.”

Nabiki’s face lost all cohesion and she sank to her knees beside the girls, totally and completely lost. Reality as she knew it was a lie. A complete and utter lie.

“I think we broke her.” Ranma pointed out, looking closely at the older girl. Nabiki simply shook her head.

So even the food was a lie. Her sister was a decent cook. “And splashing Ranma with the water, A-chan?”

“All part of the show.” Akane confirmed with satisfaction, prompting Nabiki to take a deep breath and collect her thoughts.

The revelation prompted yet more questions beyond the fact that her reality had just been upturned. Again. Ranma had come home from Kuno’s date a guy. When, exactly had that happened? And why had they planned the change to her female body? The same scheme could have worked without that little detail and nobody would have batted an eye.

“So the change to the girl really is…”

“A preference.” Ranma stated without shame. Nabiki studied the redhead before her closely, scrutinizing her body language. It wasn’t guarded or on edge, which was admittedly an oddity concerning the Saotome she once knew. She was more… relaxed?

The realization prompted another insight, which she voiced aloud. “So it was that bad?”

The smile Ranma had worn since she had first walked in diminished slightly. “You got no idea.”

Ranma Saotome, heir of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts ruthlessly laid into the sparring post before her, unleashing yet another devastating combo into its steel reinforced frame. The target in question was now the focus of two weeks of pent up frustration as it absorbed blow after blow in the form of pulverizing fists, lethal kicks and occasionally a ki-born special technique.

The first two sparring posts were currently battered, molten slag.

It was actually a testament to the Kuno estate gym, part of the redhead's brain noted. She had been unloading here for the better part of a month now and somehow it was always in pristine condition when she returned to trash it. It wasn't quite therapy, but it was close. There was just something about absolutely destroying something that kept getting rebuilt week after week that was oh-so gratifying; or at least gratifying enough to overlook the fact that Kuno was having it rebuilt each an every time just for her.

“Kachu Tenshu Ameguriken!”

The vocalization of the technique wasn’t absolutely necessary to loose its potential, but it did help to vent some of the resentment pent up in her tiny frame. Upwards of three-hundred fists per second smashed into the target dummy, nearly uprooting it from its bolted foundation.

Damn parents!

She growled mentally, forcing another aerial combination into the faltering post. It was a familiar litany to Ranma Saotome, but one almost exclusively directed at his father, the fat old panda. As of the collapse of the second wedding, however, that all changed. Of course, her and Akane’s father were still the sources of endless angst with their incessant scheming to push them into marital bliss, but those were the good ol’ days. Now her mother was involved, and the situation had become exponentially worse. The incident with the mistress was just the tip of the ice berg. It was bad enough that she was giving her full backing to ol’ Pops and Soun to push forward with marriage ops. It was worse that she had come up with the mistress deal. No, what really took the cake was the fact that she was now going behind their backs to clandestinely negotiate with the other fiancées in an attempt to ‘occupy’ his free time. The growl manifested itself audibly with the thought and she spun around on one leg, targeting the post.

Now here’s something I can’t do as a guy!

The other leg snapped up from the knee and blurred in, pulverizing the sparring post at speeds better than the original chestnut fist. The kicks also held more power, and the metal frame only took two and a half seconds of the new technique before the anchor bolts sheered away entirely. Kick number two hundred and eighty three sent the post flying across the room at high speed, embedding it into the wall horizontally less than a half second later. The redhead recovered from the kick and winced, first at the sound of a shattering wall, then at said wall crumpling in.

The activity was sufficiently violent enough to suspend her roiling anger, and she cocked her head, staring at the destruction she had once again wrought on the Kuno manor. I’ve really got to stop tearing his place up like this, she thought to herself, stepping around the mangled post while admiring her handiwork. She had noted a long time ago that her female body was slightly faster than her birth form, but it wasn’t until these private ‘therapy’ sessions that she found out the other primary benefit, it being far more flexible. While the marginal increase in speed wasn’t enough to make up the deficit in strength, that combined with her innate flexibility was. It allowed her to perform techniques such as these, negating her handicap in upper-body strength by substituting her legs instead. She was coming to the point where her legs could hit with more power than her boy-type fist and with more accuracy than her boy-type legs. Not that she had originally set out to train her girl-type up in such a manner… It just came as a natural consequence of wanting to kick the living crap out of something, anything in order to vent.

Fatigue began to set in and Ranma wiped the perspiration from her brow, surveying the destruction. This particular anger management session had sustain three casualties and she briefly considered adding the single remaining sparring post as a forth, but found her anger had fallen to more manageable levels. Next time, she threatened the post before turning for the door. What she found caused her to stop short.

“Kuno.”

It wasn’t quite a hiss, but the title did contain a measure of displeasure. He knew the rules. Her sessions here were hers and hers alone. No intrusions, no spying. Violations of said rules would not only risk her abrupt departure from the premises, but a violent beat-down with his name on it. The upper classman seemed to realize this breach of protocol and inclined his head in apology.

“Forgive me, my fiery warrior-maiden, but I could not help but to notice the… intensity of your workout.” Tatewaki explained, stepping around her temper carefully.

Try as she might, the martial artist found it supremely hard to direct any of her rage at the kendoist, especially when he used such corny titles for her. Amusement warred with simmering anger as she formulated a response. “Whaddya mean?”

Tatewaki peered around the door frame, observing the demolished post embedded in the wall next to him. “I should perhaps have the walls reinforced as well, as this one nearly felled one of my loyal retainers.”

Ranma’s eyes widened suddenly and she rushed around Kuno and out into the hallway, where her eyes widened further. Once again, there was the familiar shape of the mangled sparring post; this particular half jutting four foot through the wall and into the hall itself.

“Aw shit, Kuno, I’m sorry ‘bout that!” the girl floundered, aghast at the thought that her practice not only escaped the bound of her room, but nearly hurt somebody in the process. “The guy okay?”

“Yoshimo sustained a severe case of fright, but is otherwise unharmed.” The kendoist reassured and Ranma sagged with relief. “If I may suggest…” Ranma turned her attention from the wrecked wall to Kuno, who seemed to be rethinking his words. With her eyes on him, Tatewaki shook his head. “Never mind. Another time, perhaps.”

“What’s that?” Curiosity reigned now that Ranma was sufficiently drained of anger, and she couldn’t help but wonder what topic the normally overly-bold Kuno would step so lightly around.

“It’s just…” Tatewaki paused further, picking through his words carefully. “One can’t help but to notice that your… activities… are becoming more strenuous in nature.”

“Yes…?” Her voice was leaded with slightest hint of violence should the outcome of the conversation not agree with her.

“And while it is none of my business, I would be remiss if I did not express my concerns.”

“You’re right.” Ranma returned. “It isn’t any of your business.”

“Indeed, I am worried about thy well-being.” The boy continued, co-opting the pigtailed girl’s business as his own. “It is obvious that the pressures of your life are increasing despite the safe harbor I hath provided.”

The pigtailed girl shook her head. She wanted to get mad. Very mad. First, Kuno was sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Second, he was poking at a very sore wound. Be that as it were, there was a couple overriding factors preventing her from punting the nosy kendoist out of his very own house, the primary of which being that he was, after all, Tatewaki Kuno. After nearly two and a half years of having known him, it would be like yelling at the rain to stop being wet. And as much as it pained Ranma to admit it, that very nature had unwittingly placed him in the role of confidant. She could vent, scream and otherwise complain about the injustices of life while Kuno stood there and listened, occasionally interjecting with his own irrelevant and inadvertently humorous take on reality. And through it all, he wouldn't gossip, gab or otherwise turn said conversations to his advantage through manipulation or extortion.

The fact was that he was the only one who would listen. Sure there was Akane, but she was dealing with her own trauma, mostly likely confiding in Kasumi for her therapy. Telling Nabiki would be like paying to slit her own wrists while everybody else couldn't be trusted beyond how fast it would take to marry her off to the highest bidder. No, it was a sad testament to her life, in Ranma's opinion, that there was only one person she could trust with her baggage, and that person was a certified nutcase himself. Maybe she'd get around to punting him later, but after a week like this week, today wasn't going to be that day.

Then again, she said that last time too.

"Yeah, well I can manage." Ranma grumbled, turning her thoughts back to the topic at hand.

"Like the reed in the wind no doubt." Tatewaki nodded sagely. "Though even the reeds need their respite from the gale."

Ranma eyed the Kuno. It never ceased to amaze her that even beneath the layers of insanity were pearls of insightful wisdom. It was yet another facet of the upperclassmen she would have never guessed existed, and their appearance seemed to be becoming more and more frequent. Or maybe it was just because she was noticing because of their close association as of late. Either way, it was damn eerie. "Yeah, that's my life. The freakin’ gale of chaos."

"Like your art."

The martial artist paused, turning her full attention on the kendoist now. The uncharacteristic depth of his words stalled her angst and self-loathing abruptly. "Whattdya mean by that?"

"I wish not to offend thee, my goddess, as I know your passion for the Art is second to none," Kuno hastened. "But I have had a chance to observe your activities as of late and have come to a rather startling conclusion."

"Go on." Ranma knew in her gut she shouldn't encourage the boy, but watching Kuno have inspiration was like watching a train wreck… She just couldn't look away.

"I have observed the unorthodox tactics employed by yourself and the wretched Saotome." Kuno began, heedless of disturbing Ranma's ire with the Saotome descriptive. Whether she just didn't notice it or chose to ignore it was up for debate, but her silence allowed him to continue uninterrupted. "Yet I can't help but to wonder if the very same element that makes your style so formidable is also what is doing irreparable damage to your very spirit."

The redhead began to rub her forehead. She had been duped. It was nothing but more magical sorcery crap. "Last thing I wanna hear about is foul sorcery, Kuno."

Kuno nodded. "While I agree that his magiks are potent, I am referring to the art you and my nemesis practice. Its unpredictable nature seems to foil me at every turn and I am left to wonder if it is not foiling thee as well."

Her climb to irritation was stalled once more as the conversation took an unexpected twist. Even as she was left to figure out where the conversation was going, another part of her noted that Kuno seemed to be getting entirely too good at disarming her hostility toward him. It was rather annoying, in a way, to find that she just couldn't beat his head in as freely as she was used to doing.

"Okay, so what's yer point?"

"That perhaps that unpredictable nature has seeded itself into every aspect of your life." Tatewaki continued gravely. "You yourself hath admitted that your life is little more than controlled chaos, much like the art you practice."

"I…" Her mouth opened to release the coherent thought on the tip of her tongue, but found none present.

"It is said that a practitioner and their art are doth inseparable." The kendoist pressed forward with his reasoning. "Is it but coincidence that such discord flows in thy wake like a mighty ship spurning the natural order of things in its passing?"

Again, she tried to push the words out of her mouth, but her mind was racing. He was saying that Anything Goes was actually the cause of all her problems! True, the Art was her life, but that didn't mean…!

"Truly, I have found it such with my own Art. Kendo requires strict discipline." The boy elaborated. "It is, in fact what has helped me retain my grip on sanity where my father and sister hath fallen. Its form helps center me, which in turn, centers my life. If ones form was unpredictable and purposely chaotic…"

He let the implication hang in the air and Ranma's mind snatched at it greedily. It was an utterly insane conclusion to come to, one worthy of Kuno himself, but he was right at some level and she knew it. One became the art they practiced, to a degree. Of course, if that were entirely the case, the upperclassman in front of her could claim sanity as an attribute. Not necessarily, another part of her brain countered. From what she knew of him, he was actually a decent - if rather eccentric - student in school. She knew from personal experience he painted reasonably well, and aside from his interaction with herself and Akane, led a rather chaos free lifestyle. So had the Tendos, until coming back into contact with her side of the family. Could it really be…?

Ranma shook her head, playing with her pigtail anxiously. “No. That’s just… Look, that can’t be right.” The level of anxiety grew as the full implications of his hypothesis became fully realized. “I ain’t givin’ up the Art if that’s what yer saying! It’s the only thing that I got left in this nightmare of a life!”

To her surprise, Tatewaki looked similarly aghast. “My goddess, I would not think of suggesting such a thing! Nay, I would smite the fiend who would even suggest removing that measure of your fiery spirit!”

His reaction left her speechless and blinking at the upperclassman. All this time, Ranma had simply assumed that Kuno was looking for some girl to shape to his own distorted version of reality and her girl-type happened to be a convenient receptacle to that end. The fact that he wouldn’t change a thing about her came as a shock, especially when nobody else in her life would afford her such a luxury. Parents. Fiancées. Even friends. They all wanted her to be something she wasn’t. Heh, even as myself I’m still something I’m not, Ranma thought bitterly, considering her current form. The irony was positively sickening. The one person who would accept her for who she was was in love with a fantasy, like so many other things in Kuno’s life. She paused in her self loathing, sizing up the upperclassman for what seemed like the first time.

Maybe, just maybe, I’ve sold you short, Kuno.

He may have been in love with a fantasy, but he was practically the only person in her life that wasn’t trying to turn her into something she wasn’t. She wasn’t a womanizer. She wasn’t a Okanomiyaki chef. Or a polygamist, for that matter. She wasn’t breeding stock or marriage collateral. At the end of the day, she was simply Ranma Saotome, heir of her school and nothing more. It was something Tatewaki had accepted outright, even if he tended to overlook one crucial detail on a regular basis. Somewhere in the back of Ranma’s mind, a decision was made without her even realizing it. Maybe she could play along in his circumstantial mutiny against reality, if never to the extent he would wish, and in turn, accept him for who he was as well.

With that silent dilemma reconciled, Ranma returned to the waiting boy with slightly more spirit than she had entered the mansion with. “Okay, if you’re not suggesting I quit the art, what are you suggesting?”

Tatewaki scritched his chin, making a production of thinking upon the matter. “Perhaps the methods by which you deal with your adverse circumstances are ill-suited to the task.”

Once her mind had opened to the possibility that there might be something of substance under Kuno’s insane substrate, she grasped the direction of his theory easily enough. If he considered her life and her art chaos and improvisation, then outlets such as the one she had just engaged in would be nothing more than heaping turmoil on top of chaos. She fixed the Tatewaki with her pure blue eyes as those thoughts came into focus. "I think I see what your getting' at. Fighting fire with fire ain't necessarily a good idea. Not sure if accept the entire thing, but I can at least see where you're coming from."

"As intelligent as thou art beautiful." Tatewaki nodded with a smile, causing Ranma to frown. She really needed to break him of that habit. "Mayhaps instead of channeling your release through your art, perhaps something more… structured is required; an opposite to the tribulations you endure."

"Like…?"

Tatewaki walked across the beaten room and over to an untouched weapons rack, pulling a wooden sword from it. "Kendo has been invaluable to myself in a similar capacity. It is an art of form, style and grace, its movement smooth and precise. Truly it would seem to be the foil to the chaos of your life and art."

The redhead favored her host with a disinterested look. "I already know how to use a sword."

"Nay, my fiery beauty." Kuno returned. "While your proficiency is beyond question, I have observed that your skills lack any form whatsoever. For this to work as envisioned, your movements require structure. Predictability."

"Predictability ain't much use in real combat." She countered, and to her mild surprise, the upperclassman nodded with her statement.

"It seems to be thus." He admitted readily. "Such is not the purpose of our exercise her, however. Outside these walls, you may use any form you so desire. Inside these walls however, I would ask of you to follow the strict forms and movements of Kendo, as it is the only way I can envision countering the chaos of your daily life."

It made sense at some level, Ranma realized. Even though she was absolutely certain she could wipe the walls with the Kendoist, every blade form she knew had its roots in Anything Goes and by his logic, was ill-suited to her… therapy. Ranma sighed mentally. Where had things gone wrong? Where had they gotten so bad that she was actually contemplating Tatewaki Kuno as her guidance counselor? Okay, so maybe he wasn't so bad, but he was still a nutcase. Then again, it's not like I have a better idea. What am I gonna do, pound more stuff into the ground as things get worse? And they will get worse, Ranma had no doubt. At this rate, Kuno's mansion, let alone his servants, wouldn't last much longer.

Ranma hung her head, mentally defeated. "Alright, Kuno. What did ya have in mind?"

Nabiki eyed Ranma with a measure of disbelief. “You took advice from Kuno? What were you thinking?” Nabiki rubbed her forehead and mumbled, “Well, that'd explain why you going girl...”

“Heh, not really.” Ranma waved the comment away. “It was everything. Family. Rivals. Fiancées. You.” Nabiki winced at the pointed reminder. “The constant Akane-snatchers and those run-ins with the lizard men weren't helping.”

“Tell me about it.” Akane rolled her eyes.

Nabiki came to a quick conclusion. “So you retreated. To your girl-type.”

“I... That is...” Ranma was at a loss for words for the first time since Nabiki had found out her secret. “Yes.” She admitted, sucking in a deep breath. “Everything is different. Fiancées don't glomp. Rivals aren't so eager to go after me. Hell, everybody treats me different. I can eat ice cream.”

The middle Tendo opened her mouth, then closed it as her thoughts ran into a mental roadblock. “Wait... Ice cream?”

“Freedom from obligations that were never my own.” Ranma elaborated. “It's the only way I see a light at the end--” The redhead paused, cocking her head. “Damn. Parents are on their way out. 'Kane-chan?” Akane smiled and pulled a mallet from behind her back. Nabiki blinked as she looked from one grinning girl to the other.

“RANMA NO BAKA!”

Author's Notes;
If you were expecting me to just jump right into a Kuno-Ranma-chan sex scene, sorry to disappointed you ;) Still building plot, so hope like it. Plot, that is. Not many notes here, so until next time... Oh yeah, did I mention this is one story in an -ification trilogy? Saffronification is next and still deciding the third -ification plot. Ryoga comes to mind, but he's kinda cliché. Still, I can make it good. Heheh.. heheh... BWAHAHAHAHAH!

Ahem.

It's called 'tipping', Nabs- No, tipping isn't considered custom in Japan. It's even an insult. But then, we're talking about Kuno here. He uses Ye Olde English. In Japanese. He throws money around. Consider this part on purpose.

Special thanks to Trimatter and DCG, both invaluable bouncing ideas off of, and of course the excellent Quizer who keeps my stuff on the level.