(C&C welcome. Not to mention needed)
An Alternate Reality Fanfic:
Same beloved characters, but whole new situations...
Ranma 1/2 is the property and creation of Rumiko Takahashi, and whoever else owns it. I'm not making any money off of this so don't sue me. Besides... I'm now in college, which means I'm broke.
***
Chapter 1
***
Everyone needs someone
to hold them when they’re scared
Everyone needs someone
to chase away nightmares
Everyone needs someone
whether it’s to keep or just to lend
I will be that someone:
your protector and best friend
***
It wasn’t like the last time.
Last time had been easy. No challenge there. But now… he could actually *feel* himself tiring. His legs and muscles ached from the strain and his back burned from where the knife had cut him.
But despite all of this, he kept on fighting. Ignoring the pain, he’d found, was the easy part. Besides… he’d survived worst.
The solution, he’d found, was simple: Push the pain to the back of your mind and concentrate on the problem at hand. In this case it was a Chinese martial artist, who— despite his supposed skills— felt the need to carry a small knife to even the score.
The problem was, so far, it seemed to be working…
As a martial artist himself— one rule had been ingrained into him over and over again: Never— under any circumstances— underestimate your opponent.
This particular rule, however, was *not* one of Ranma's strong points.
Despite his obvious disregard for the rules, however, Ranma Saotome was known for one thing:
Never losing.
“Come on!” he laughed, as he dodged another thrust of the knife, goading his attacker on. “Is this *all* you’ve got?!”
The assassin's face twisted into an angry scowl, his veins straining at his neck as his grip tightened even more on the small knife he held tightly in his hand.
Ranma, seeing this, smiled.
Any fool knew how stupid it was to let your anger control your actions. Especially during a fight that could prove fatal. Anger made you sloppy and gave your opponent the advantage, making you lose sight of what was really important: staying in control and holding your emotions in check.
Being the idiot his opponent was, however, was exactly what Ranma was counting on.
“That’s it, you little asshole!” his angry attacker hissed. “You are DEAD!”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the Chinese assassin made his move. In one quick, fluid motion, he launched himself at Ranma, his anger and indignation propelling him forward.
"Man, talk about predictable," Ranma grinned as he jumped above his opponent’s outstretched arm. With his other leg in the midst of his maneuver, he kicked the knife out of his adversary's hand and far out of his reach.
The man clenched his hand tightly as he glanced around the surrounding area, trying to find where he had lost his knife. “Ya know,” Ranma admonished contemptuously, “It ain't a good idea to depend on weapons *too* much... Seeing how it can make ya sloppy an all.”
"What do you know?" the man snarled angrily, his eyes wild and desperate as they darted back and forth in search of the knife. "I don't need a weapon to kick your ass!"
Ranma raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Oh, really?" he laughed. "That's not what it looks like from where I'm standin'."
The assassin balled his hands into fists and planted his feet firmly on the ground, his lips curled into a warning.
Ranma didn't even blink. With slow, easy movements, he crossed his arms against his chest and quirked an eyebrow, looking at the angry man standing before him whose body was tense and eager for a fight.
"Man, can't you tell when you've had enough?!" Ranma complained, his voice flat and bored as he shook his head. "There's no WAY you can beat me without your little toy over there."
His opponent followed his gaze to a thick clump of grass that was off to his left, the hilt of the knife just barely visible under the tall, surrounding grass.
A smile flitted quickly across his face, only to be replaced by an expression that was both guarded and unreadable. The hired assassin stepped out of his defensive position and took a stance similar to Ranma's. "You're right," he replied flatly, his tone dead and hard. "I give up. There's no point in continuing this stupid fight. I've already lost."
Ranma's smile faded as he looked at the man before him suspiciously. "Ya mean it?" he asked carefully, "You're really ready to give up and surrender?"
The man hung his head, his spiky hair falling just enough to cover his eyes. "That's right," he replied, sighing. "I know I can't beat you. So why continue? Even a hired assassin knows when it's better just to call it quits."
Ranma smiled brightly, his eyes shining. "So you DO have brain," he laughed lightly. "I stand corrected."
The hit man kept his head lowered, his expression hidden. Ranma took a cautious step forward, his legs braced and ready for anything. "Well... I gotta tell ya, you're doin' the right thing. Not many people do. To tell you the truth, no one's ever actually... Uh... given up before," he said with a laugh. "Voluntarily I mean." His hand slipped unnoticed behind his head as he continued to advance closer.
"Oh, really?" the man asked innocently, lifting his head to meet Ranma's eyes. "I wonder WHY—" With a burst of strength, the assassin lunged forward on one foot and made a swipe at Ranma, who blocked it with his right arm. Then, without pause, the assassin threw himself to the left towards the clump of grass where his abandoned knife lay.
"Do you REALLY think I'm that stupid?" Ranma shouted in annoyance. While his opponent dug around in the small clump of grass for his knife, Ranma flexed his hand and smiled. "That's it," he whispered, extending his middle finger along side his other in perfect alignment, "Play time's over."
The assassin grabbed his knife from the grass triumphantly and began to turn around, his knife poised before him as he prepared to face Ranma.
Ranma however wasn't there.
The assassin's eyes widened in surprise as he felt a rush of wind behind him, and then two cold fingers pressed lightly against his neck. "What the hell--?"
Ranma stepped back in satisfaction as the man's entire body began to tense up at once.
"Too easy," Ranma muttered. "I'm not an idiot you know."
The man made no attempt to let him know he'd heard him.
Two seconds later, he had hit the ground.
* * * * *
"Case closed," Ranma announced triumphantly, throwing the large, bulging folder down on his boss's desk in satisfaction.
"Case closed?" his supervisor, Yamamoto questioned, his eyebrow raised in surprise. "Already?"
"Yup," Ranma grinned. "Megumi's safe and the assassin's been put into custody."
"Has he been questioned yet?"
"Damn right. An he's already started talkin' about the whereabouts of Tsukushi."
"Great," Yamamoto replied as he took the folder and placed it in his drawer. "One less case to worry about." With a fluid movement, he removed a different, thicker, folder from another drawer and placed it in the center of his desk.
"What's that?" Ranma asked, gesturing towards the thick folder that now sat on the table.
“It's a new case,” Yamamoto, explained. “It’s yours if you want it.”
Ranma eyed the file suspiciously. “What's involved?” he asked carefully.
Yamamoto shrugged. “Oh, you know... typical case... A father wants someone to protect his daughter...”
Ranma narrowed his eyes. “A typical case, huh?” he replied, unconvinced. “And just who does she need protection from?”
The Assistant Director found something interesting on the table before him and began to scratch at it with his fat, plump fingers. “Oh, you know...” he began slowly.
Ranma shook his head. “No,” he deadpanned, “Actually I don’t.”
Yamamoto took a long, deep breath, and said softly: “An Amazon.”
Ranma found himself actually laughing. “You’ve *gotta* be kidding!” he said at last. “Why in the world would I be stupid enough to put myself up against an Amazon? It’s either kill, be killed, or get hitched... And none a those options really appeal to me...”
Yamamoto tapped his fingers on the file before him, his careless expression changing to one of disdain. “If you don’t think you’re _qualified_ enough for this case,” he began, “then I can always find someone else who is...”
Ranma’s laughter died down. “Hey! Don’t get me wrong,” he argued, his ego coming immediately to his defense. “I never said I *wasn’t* qualified! I just—”
“It’s all right,” the Assistant director interrupted, cutting Ranma off in the middle of his sentence. “I can find someone else, no problem.”
“Now, wait just a minute!”
“I’m sorry I took up your time,” he apologized, standing up from his chair. “With your outstanding record and dedication I just thought you’d be up to the challenge, but I guess I had you pegged wrong. Since you’re not interested—”
“Who says I ain't interested?!” Ranma demanded, slamming his fist on the Advisors desk. “Yamamoto— I *want* this case!”
Mr. Yamamoto looked at him with uncertainty. “I’m not so sure—”
“I mean... who else is better qualified for this assignment?” he continued hastily, his determination and stubbornness driving him on. “I haven’t lost a case yet— don’t intend to— and my martial art skills surpass those of anyone else in the academy, *plus*,” he added, counting the numerous points he was making off with his fingers. “I’m one of the few people in this whole damn place who can transform with just a splash of cold water! Having me is like having two bodyguards in one! It’s a package deal!”
“Well that’s all well and good...” Mr. Yamamoto replied sincerely, trying to hold back a smile, “But...”
“Dammit!” Ranma shouted, jumping up from his chair. “I’m the best god damn person you’ve got here! Besides, who else would be brave enough to take on this assignment?!”
The large man smiled. “I’m sure Ryoga wouldn’t mind...”
Ranma frowned as he threw himself back down in his chair. “Well yeah, okay,” he admitted reluctantly. “Ryoga's definitely *brave* enough, if that’s what you wanna call it, but the idiot’s got no sense of direction! He’d get lost in the girl's house if there was only one room! Besides, even if he *did* go against an Amazon, he’d probably end up back at the chick’s village and accidentally get himself engaged to the whole tribe!”
Yamamoto smiled. “True.”
Ranma leaned back in his chair, his arms folded behind his head. “So, do I got the assignment or what?”
Yamamoto shrugged. “You’ve argued your case relatively well...”
Ranma held his breath as Yamamoto sighed in defeat. “Heck, Saotome, if you really want it that bad, it’s yours...”
Ranma grinned triumphantly as he leaned forward slightly in his chair. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “I’ll take it, I guess...”
Yamamoto pushed the folder towards Ranma with both hands, watching with satisfaction as Ranma happily took it. “Well, good luck,” he added.
Ranma took the folder and turned towards the door, his head held high. “heh, luck’s the one thing I won’t need,” he answered over his shoulder. “I'd just assume depend on skill.” And with that, Ranma left the room, the door slamming shut behind him.
Once Ranma was gone, the Advisor leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile lighting his face. “That was a lot easier than I thought it was gonna be,” he chuckled. “I always knew that boy’s ego would get him into trouble. Heh, going against an Amazon... I sure hope that kid knows what he’s getting into...”
Whistling happily, the Advisor turned back to the huge filing cabinet that sat behind him. After all... there was still a lot of work to be done. There were so many _interesting_ cases to assign and fewer and fewer men that were actually willing to do them...
* * * * *
Ranma sat down cross-legged on his small bunk, the huge folder spread open before him. “Now,” he said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “To see what I’ve got!”
Inside were pictures. Lots of pictures.
On top of the stack sat one large photograph of a 16-year-old girl with long, flowing blue-black hair. The girl was smiling brightly, her hand shading her eyes from the blazing sun above. Attached to the photo was a small note with the girl’s name printed neatly in Western letters: Akane Tendo.
Ranma observed the photo for several moments, memorizing every line and detail. “Wow,” he breathed at last. “She's kinda cute." She looked so... well, *nice.* Not the type that went around challenging Amazons!
When Ranma placed the photo off to the side, several smaller pictures of the same girl were revealed. In one photo, she was in what he assumed, was her school uniform, walking down a street with a couple of her friends, laughing. In another, she was in a martial arts dogi, breaking cider blocks with her bare fist.
Ranma raised an eyebrow. Okay... on second thought... maybe she _was_ the type that went around challenging Amazons...
Underneath those few pictures were photographs of her family: Her father, Soun Tendo, and her two older sisters: Kasumi and Nabiki. "I wonder if they study martial arts too," he thought to himself.
Beneath those were pictures of miscellaneous friends: Kids they hung around with at school or casual acquaintance. There was also a picture of their family doctor, Ono Tofu, included in the pile.
Ranma pushed all of these aside, anxious to find out exactly *who* he was protecting her from. There, in the very back of the pile, was a small snapshot of a purple haired Amazon who was wielding two very dangerous looking banborrie. Her expression was grim and determined as she maneuvered them through the air with practiced ease.
A small note was also attached to this one, the words Xian Pu, scrawled neatly across it. “Feh, Chinese,” he muttered to himself. “Looks more like Shampoo to me. Not too bad looking either.”
Ranma picked up the large photo of the smiling Akane he had set aside earlier and placed it next to that of the Amazon warrior’s. Not bad, he said to himself with a smile. This case just _might_ get interesting...
* * * * *
Soun Tendo continued to pace back and forth excitedly, a small, beat up post card clenched tightly in his hand. His daughters watched him with warring expressions: One's countenance was patient and curious, another's, calm and understanding. The last, however, was impatient, angry, and very, *very* annoyed.
A torrent of tears continued to stream down his face as he reread the short, concise message that was written on the back of the card: Congratulations, your request has been approved. Expect our best agent, Ranma Saotome, to arrive at your residence shortly. It was signed, "The Hanahora Protection Agency: (Free of charge if victim harmed)."
A koi fish leapt through the air from the large pond, oblivious to Soun's tears, and landed with a small splash back into the awaiting water. "At last," Soun cried happily, holding the card out before him like a beacon. "Finally! Finally he's coming! After three long days of worrying I can finally rest in peace. Soon, very soon, Ranma Saotome will be coming here!"
"Hey, let me see that," a voice interrupted, grabbing the post card from his hands before he had time to protest.
"Nabiki," Soun whimpered, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. "Why do you have to be that way to your own father, huh?!"
Nabiki ignored him as she skimmed quickly through the post card, her eyes searching for anything that could help clear up this whole mess. "Jeez, daddy," she complained at last, handing the post card back to him. "I can't *believe* you actually went out and hired some bodyguard! Do you have *any* idea what this is going to do to business?"
Soun Tendo's eyes narrowed, his arms crossed against his chest stubbornly. "Well, I--"
"Imagine," Nabiki went on, regardless of her father's feeble protests. "The owner of the Tendo dojo, and master of the Tendo School of anything goes martial arts, forced to hire a professional bodyguard to protect his _own_ family! I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, daddy, but isn't that the whole reason people take up martial arts in the first place?"
"Nabiki," Kasumi gently chided, "I'm sure father knows exactly what he's doing, don't you father?"
Soun Tendo coughed uncomfortably, and glanced gratefully at his eldest daughter. "Of-- of course I do!” he replied stubbornly, his eyebrow twitching. “Thank you for your support, Kasumi. It's good to know that at least *one* of my daughters trust my judgment."
Nabiki waved her hand in dismissal. "It's not that I don't trust you, daddy," she assured him. "It's just that… in a business sense, this isn't very practical. People want to learn the Anything-goes-style in order to protect their family. They aren’t going to pay money to learn it from someone who can’t even protect his own daughter *using* that specific art!”
Soun stared down at the post card and then lifted his head to meet his daughter's eyes. "Well, what's done is done. All we can do now is hope that that Amazon woman has given up her search for Akane and that we won't need this Ranma Saotome's services after all."
"Fine!” Nabiki exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air in frustration. “I give up! Go ahead! Ruin us!"
"It's so good of you to support father this way, Nabiki," Kasumi smiled. Akane rolled her eyes in reply.
Soun glanced away from the post card briefly to stare at the sky in quiet contemplation, a slight breeze sending his long black hair flying behind him. "At last," he said to himself, sighing in relief. "At last my little girl will be safe."
* * * * *
Ranma stood outside the Tendo gate, his small bag slung over his shoulder as he surveyed the house that stood before him.
He was happy to note it was fairly large, with two stories and a broad, walkable roof. True, it would be easier for someone to penetrate the building, but it also made it easier to get out of in case of an intrusion. A dojo was connected off of the main house; an old, rickety building that had seen better days. A large sign with the words: 'To challenge owner in savage combat use rear door,' hung from the side of the house.
"Well, this is it," Ranma said, glancing at his temporary home until this assignment was over. With renewed enthusiastic, he flung his light bag over his shoulder and took a resolute step forward. "It's show time," he grinned confidently.
A few steps later, he came to a screeching halt, his foot coming to rest against something soft that lay in the entrance to the house.
"What the--?"
The object at his feet began to move slightly, its sharp claws shining in the moonlight as it began to stretch out its small, furry body. "MEOW."
Ranma stopped dead in his tracks, his fingers twitching nervously at his side. "Uh..."
Purring softly, the kitten began to wrap its small body around his feet; he could feel its soft fur rubbing against his black pants and the brush of whiskers resting against his leg.
"N—n—nice kit—kitty," Ranma said softly, nudging the cat quickly with his foot. "G—go away n— now..."
The kitten looked at him innocently, its eyes wide, then, with a small jump, placed its two front paws on Ranma's pant legs as it tried playfully to climb up his leg. "MEOW."
He could feel the small kitten's claws through his thin dark pants as they pinched him lightly, and Ranma felt the initial terror he'd tried to stifle from the start, begin to rise...
"AAHHH!!!"
* * * * *
The three girl's heads shot up simultaneously, their eyes widening in surprise. Their father abruptly stopped his pacing as he turned around to meet his daughter's worried faces.
"Did you hear that?" he asked, all traces of his excitement and exuberance gone.
His three daughters looked at him with worried expressions, their faces drawn and serious.
"Yeah," Akane replied. "It sounded like someone screaming."
Nabiki nodded her head in agreement. "It sounded like it came from close by too."
"Oh my," Kasumi exclaimed. "I certainly hope no one's hurt!"
Soun regarded his youngest daughter, his eyes narrowed and alert. "Nevertheless, it may be that Amazon, Akane, so be careful," he warned.
Akane nodded her head in understanding as she began to follow her father outside, her sisters trailing close behind, headed in the direction the scream had come from.
* * * * *
Ranma was running blindly now, no longer aware of his surroundings. Up ahead, he could just barely make out the shape of a roof that towered before him.
Gathering all of up his strength, he jumped.
* * * * *
Akane, her father, and her sisters began looking around their yard apprehensively, searching for any sign of trouble. All they found, however, was their neighbor's cat, whimpering in front of their door, or more specifically, at someone who was crouching on the roof.
“Help me,” the figure whispered softly as the small, black and white kitten continued to whine below him.
“What’s his problem?” Akane whispered to Nabiki.
Nabiki shrugged. “Beats me.”
Soun shaded his eyes from the darkness, trying to put the quivering figure on the roof before him into focus. “And who are you, stranger?” he demanded.
Kasumi walked up behind him and lovingly picked the small kitten up in her arms. “Oh my,” she gasped, following her father's gaze. “Who in the world is that?”
“We don’t know,” Akane replied, glancing once more at the shaking figure on the roof. “All he’s said so far is, 'Help me.'”
“Oh,” Kasumi uttered in puzzlement. “How strange.”
The cat began to hiss and claw as it struggled to get out of her restraining arms. Giving a small cry of surprise, Kasumi reluctantly released the small kitten and watched as it scurried away.
Ranma glanced over the side of the roof, looking around wildly for the cat. “Is— is it gone?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly.
“Is what gone?” Kasumi asked sweetly.
“The c— cat,” he replied at last.
Nabiki glanced in the direction the cat had run of in, then back at Ranma, her eyebrows raised. “You mean to tell me,” she asked skeptically, unable to keep the disbelief from her voice, “that you were afraid of *Yeichi*?”
“Yeichi?” Akane asked, trying her best to stifle back a laugh. “You mean… he’s afraid of the neighbor’s *cat*?!”
“Damn it,” Ranma interrupted angrily. “Is the little fanged beast gone or not?!”
“Oh yes,” Kasumi assured him. “Yeichi's probably on his way back to the Tomodachi's right now."
Ranma sighed in relief, his trembling body calming down slightly.
“It’s a pity too,” she added sadly, oblivious to Ranma's relief. “It’s such a cute little kitten after all.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure it is.” he muttered under his breath.
Soun coughed uncomfortably, shattering the uneasy silence. “Now, young man, would you mind getting down from there? If you’d like to challenge me, you’re supposed to use the _rear_ door.”
Ranma did several quick flips in the air before landing neatly in front of Soun’s startled form. “Um... I ain’t exactly here to challenge ya,” he began nervously. “I’m, uh... Ranma Saotome.”
Soun’s eyes widened in surprise... and disbelief, shock, denial, horror... “Ranma? R— Ranma Saotome?!” The name, oddly, wasn't a comfort.
The boy nodded his head sullenly. “Um… yeah. Sorry ‘bout this…”
His apology, however, fell on deft ears: With a small, gasping sob, Soun hit the ground.
* * * * *