Nabiki let none of that show on her face. She just sat demurely and let Ami tell Hinako why Nabiki was suddenly as dumb as a bag of rocks. And galling as it was to admit, in this world she was. Not only were most of the subjects Ami had briefed her on one or two years in advance of her own level, but there were four more than her normal school load. Her other self had maintained a crushing curriculum. And for what? To make herself more attractive as a potential slave. It was too gag. She wasn’t anyone’s slave! Well, maybe technically she was. But not in her mind! No matter how much she enjoyed it when Ranma forced her down on the bed and . . .
Nabiki snatched her thoughts back from that image as Hinako coughed to attract her attention. “I see what Miss. Mizuno means. You are very distracted Miss. Tendo. It is fortunately rare, but not unheard of for a young slave to regress intellectually when bonded to a strong minded, but poorly educated master with no other slaves.” She adopted a stern, told you so, look. “Which is why we discourage young girls still in school from becoming slaves. The distraction is bad enough when they are bought by a man with several already.
Miss Hinako opened Nabiki’s file and made a few notes in it. “Very well,” she said, closing the file and looking at Nabiki. “I will reduce your study load. Miss Mizuno will tutor you when she has time. I’m afraid however that it is unlikely you will be able to resume your full schedule until such time as your master takes on two or more slaves, and that could be some time in the future. You may have to take courses as an adult to improve your net worth, but there is nothing for it, I’m afraid. Try to do the best you can.”
Nabiki but real effort into keeping her face pleasant as Hinako talked down to her. This is what she wanted. So what if this big titted cow thought she was just this side of retarded. She knew the truth. She wasn’t affected in the least by being Ranma’s slave. Just because she couldn’t go ten minutes without thinking about him didn’t mean a thing. She was her own woman. Even if the feel of Ranma’s body constantly brushed against her like phantom cobwebs, that didn’t mean she was brain dead.
“Miss Tendo!” Nabiki snapped to alertness, blushing as she looked up at Miss Hinako’s stern, but amused face. “You may go now, Miss Tendo,” she said.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Ranma examined the tall wall in front of him. It was the barrier between the girl’s school and the boy’s. Nearly twenty feet tall at this point, and smooth as a babies bottom. He ran his fingers over the slick surface. Polished limestone facing he decided. Soft, even in his current pathetic form it would be easy enough to damage it enough with his hands to give him finger holds. But that would leave evidence, and maybe alert someone. He looked over his shoulder. The nearest tree was twenty feet away, the nearest large one nearly thirty. No going the aboral route. That left simply going up and over. And he wasn’t sure he could manage twenty feet in his current shape. Especially as he was going to have to be female when he did it. True, his strength to weight ratio was a lot better as a girl, but his legs muscles were weaker. The difference in height he could jump in his two forms was very slight, with a slight shading toward his male side.
Ranma could have simply gone around the front and through the gate as a girl like he’d done before, but where was the challenge in that.
Ranma rubbed his chin as he considered. All he needed was a little extra boost. He turned his attention away from the wall and examined the area right in front of it. He smiled as he spotted a small outcropping of rock about six feet back from the wall. It only projected about four inches out of the ground but after giving it a kick to make sure it was solid he knew it would make a good force transfer pivot point. That might be enough. He mused a bit longer, running his eyes over the top of the wall. He wondered if they’d been paranoid enough to cover the top with broken glass or some other danger? After a bit of thought he decided it was unlikely. They were trying to keep boys and girls apart, not keep terrorist away. He considered a bit more, mentally tracing his trajectory. He added one more aid to his goal and decided it was worth a shot.
“He can’t be planning on going over the wall! It’s impossible!” Kodachi muttered to herself as she peeked around the corner of the school at Ranma.
Conan’s head was a foot below Kodachi’s, her body bent over his. “It does seem unlikely,” he said. “Ah, he’s leaving. Most likely he was just wishing he could go over,” he added as Ranma turned away from the wall and walked over to a cemented washing area near the school. Consisting of a pad and short wall with a cast tub, it was a convenient place to wash the dirt and grit from your upper body. Getting clean was obviously Ranma’s goal as he stripped off his shirt and turned on a tap.
“Remember, you’re a guy,” Conan teased as Kodachi let out an appreciative murmur.
“I was just admiring his physical development in a purely manly way, brat!” Kodachi retorted, never taking her eyes off the way the muscles moved in Ranma’s back as he held his shirt under the running water and got it soaking wet. He then lay it over the edge of the tub and leaned forward so that the stream of water would run over his head and shoulders . . . “That is not possible,” Kodachi said in a weak voice. “I am taking my medication,” she added in a protesting tone.
Conan said nothing, too busy staring at what had happened to Ranma.
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(Posted Sun, 17 Oct 2004 14:20)
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