Ranma Saotome lived for two things: Martial arts and showing off. The first was really a means through which to employ the second, but he did rather enjoy various aspects of martial arts aside from just how good he was at it. He enjoyed working up a sweat. He enjoyed testing the limits of his body and pushing through them, inch by inch. He enjoyed the tactical aspect. He enjoyed the simple peace that came with a kata and he enjoyed knocking his stupid father flat on his ass.
But enjoyment wasn’t the reason he was in the training hall on this particular morning. Nope. He was here because he was confused. Baffled. Puzzled. And he needed to do something to help himself unwind a bit. Meditate? Pft. Sitting still for hours at a time really wasn’t his style. No, no! Far better for him to do a spot of training, work through a few kata. Let his body go on autopilot while his mind worked through what was bothering him.
Before dealing with those thoughts, it is very much worth examining the style Ranma took as he worked through those kata. He’s usually quite energetic. He leaps around with as much precision and grace as any circus performer - more so! One might imagine that he would be just as fluid, just as quick and sharp in his delivery of a kata… Yet that was far from the case at all. It was not that he was lacking coordination or grace; it was simply a different flavour. His movements were slower. More deliberate. Calculated, yet flowing. He could rush through the process in his sleep and still have it come out flawless, but rushing it wasn’t the purpose of this exercise. For someone like Ranma the purpose was to feel what it was like to move his body just so. It was to visualise the battle, imagine the opponent(s) and maintain perfect control over form. Going through it quickly would defeat the point.
And it would also give him less time to think. Think about his new living situation. Think about his new fiancee. Think about Akane Tendo.
It was his perfectly reasonable opinion that the arranged marriage thing sucked. Especially since he’d just been cursed to turn into a girl. Settling down and getting married was something he always figured he would do off his own back way off down the line with someone he liked that particular way, and the curse did seem like it should be far more important right now.
His father disagreed, naturally. Attempts to sneak out during the night were about as successful as his initial attempt to flee. The old man behaved like an idiot, but he did have some intelligence and plenty of skill that made up for shortcomings. He was probably lurking around somewhere, watching carefully at a distance in case Ranma made another attempt to make a break for it. Fine then. If he was going to be forced to live here for a little while, he’d just have to make the most of it. If he was lucky someone local might know something he could use to cure the curse.
If he was lucky. Look at his last month and tell him he was lucky. Go on. Just try it.
And then there was Akane. His fiancee. A real tomboy. Martial artist. A fighting style that seemed to be a juxtaposition to his own, complimenting it yet also serving as a counter. Where he soared through the air she stood her ground. Where his movements flowed around his opponent’s she struck clean through. This was doubtless a product of who had trained them both to begin with: Their respective (for lack of a better word) fathers. Old training buddies like that probably had to work together and spar together frequently enough that it made a lot of sense.
An image of her in the bathroom yesterday flashed through Ranma’s mind, and he very nearly lost his footing. Not that most could tell by looking, but he certainly noticed. Damn. That just kept on happening! He’d be in the middle of something else when all of a sudden that image would flash in his mind and all he could think about was the figure barely concealed behind a towel. The slightest peek of her breasts, the alluring sheen of her skin, the peculiar look in her eye as she stared at him… Ranma caught himself again before he misstepped, and internally scolded himself. No! Don’t let a woman distract you. Not when you become an even hotter chick with a splash of cold water. Besides which, that tomboy has a vicious temper. It would never work out. Never ever ever.
“Buh…” someone very unintelligibly said by the door. Ranma turned his head and looked without breaking the flow. His fiancee was standing in the doorway in what appeared to be jogging gear. “I mean… Good morning!” she said, very deliberately looking away in a strangely adorable flustered manner. “Working on your rippling, chiseled physique? I mean, uh… P-Put a shirt on!”
Weird how it sounded like she was forcing herself to say that last part, but Ranma could at least oblige that much. He turned around, scooped his shirt off the floor, then scowled and snapped his fingers in front of Akane’s face.
“Hey, tomboy!” he said. “Anyone home today?”
“Y-you! Stop that!” she said. “I just got a little bit distracted is all.”
“Distracted?” Ranma said, flexing a muscle and smirking as Akane stared at it like she’d just found a steak dinner after being in the desert for a month. “By my rippling, chiseled physique, you mean?”
“Shut up! I didn’t mean it like that! I was - I was making fun of you!”
“Sure you were,” Ranma replied. Maybe he’d put off putting this shirt back on. It was kinda fun toying with her like this. “You’re drooling a bit.”
The look she gave him indicated that she wasn’t falling for his bluff, or at least wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of wiping it away until he wasn’t looking. Shame, that!
“Oh, please,” she said. “You’re not that hot.”
“So you admit that I’m hot?” he cheekily responded.
Ooh, damn! If looks could kill he’d be on fire right about now. It was kind of funny, really. All it would take was for either one of them to move just a dozen or so centimeters, and their lips -
“I don’t have time for this!” Akane yelled, spinning on her heel. “Oh! By the way? I overheard our fathers talking just now. You’re going to be attending the same school as I am. You’d better be on your best behaviour, buster! I’ll be showing you the way, and don’t you dare bring up this stupid engagement thing. Got it?”
And off she stomped, like some rampaging dinosaur. Ranma returned to his kata, but for some reason that currently escaped him he just couldn’t stop smiling if his life depended on it.
Sun Sep 01 19:06:37 2013
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