“I’m . . .fine,” Nabiki gasped out, regaining her balance. “Should have eaten more for breakfast. Low blood sugar,” she said with a weak smile.
“If you’re sure . . .” Ami said.
“I’m fine,” Nabiki reassured her. “Thank you for your help today. I was a big help. I’ll see you tomorrow in the library?”
“Yes, of course. But, would you like me to stay with you till you feel a bit better.”
“No. Really, I’m fine. I’ll be seeing my master real soon.”
“Well, if you’re sure . . .” Ami repeated, slowly walking away, with an occasional backward look.
Nabiki kept a smile on her face, and waved goodby as Ami rounded the corner, and then she slumped slightly and placed a hand against the wall. “Idiot!” she said to herself. “Saotome, what the hell are you thinking?” Anger filled her. Anger at Ranma for making her worry, anger at herself for worrying about the jerk. “When I get my hands on her,” Nabiki vowed her expression promising dire consequences for a certain red-head.
Other eyes were watching that red-head even as Nabiki vowed retribution. Conan has slipped into full analytical mode seconds after witnessing Ranma’s transformation. Everything registered on him. The way her body moved, the way the water drops ran along the skin of her bare upper torso, the way the breeze moved her hair. The play of muscle under her skin.
“She’s real,” Conan announced with amazement.
“How?” Kodachi whispered, unable to turn her gaze away from the buxom red-head. “How did Ranma switch places with this girl?” In her befuddlement she did not think that she was asking her question of an eight year old boy.
“He didn’t. Or rather. I believe that the girl and Ranma are one and the same.” Conan said with certainty. “I saw no distortion that would indicate some form of reflective surface. The drops of water on her body grew larger, as her skin shrank and individual drops joined together.” Before Kodachi could ask, how, again, he said. “I don’t know how. But I mean to find out!” The last was said with a certainty of purpose that was not uncommon in the very young, but for some reason Kodachi believed Conan would indeed discover the truth. There was something about him that seemed so much older than his appearance would lend one to believe.
At that moment Ranma started to run, and both the people spying on her focused intently. Conan to confirm his belief that she was not in fact some fake produced by trickery, Kodachi with fascination as the small girl’s breasts bounced energetically in time with her stride.
“No, I belong to Akane-sama,” Kodachi protested to herself as she watched the lithe muscularity of the smaller girl in motion. Such a powerful girl.
Conan had none of Kodachi’s hormone induced fascination, but he did have memories of having them, and in part of his mind was a sense of loss that he could not truly appreciate the sight in front of him.
With perfect timing Ranma’s foot hit against the small rock outcropping she’d noticed earlier and she leaped upward in a high trajectory that would see her contacting the wall several feet below the lip. It was a prodigious leap and caused both Kodachi and Conan to hold their breath in awe as she soared up and up. Her foot ground against the wall and she thrust upward using the pressure of her impact to gain traction on the slick surface. She made a whipping motion with the hand carrying her wet shirt and it flew upward to wrap around the top of the wall, giving her just enough extra pull to raise her high enough to latch onto to the lip of the twenty foot tall wall and pull herself up and on to it.
Conan turned and ran. Laboriously, he was still winded from his workout. “Where are you going?” Kodachi hissed after him.
“The girl’s school,” Conan answered, not even looking back at her. “Are you coming?”
“I can’t,” Kodachi said in an agony of indecision. She could walk through the front gate of the girl’s school anytime she wanted. If she was prepared to renounce her paper man-hood. Something she was not willing to do so. Conan, on the other hand, as a pre-pubescent, had free access to the girl’s side. It would be a simple matter for him to charm his way past the guards at the gate.
She turned and looked at the wall. Could she go over it? Ranma had. But she was not Ranma who was obviously a magical person of some sort. “Still,” She murmured to herself. Looking around to make sure there were no witnesses, she stripped down her shorts, revealing what looked like a very fat leather thong. A tug loosened the object from around between her legs and around her waist and she was suddenly holding a twelve foot leather whip in her hand. If Ranma could use her shirt to get over the wall, maybe her whip would do the job. Hastily pulling hp her shorts over her now bare bottom, she moved over to where Ranma has started her run toward the wall.
Ranma was oblivious to what was going on behind her. All her attention was on what was going on below her on the girl’s side of the wall. Directly under her was a deep pit in the earth, framed on one side by the limestone wall Ranma lay on top of, and on the other by a high sheet of canvas.
As Ranma watched, a young girl, not much older than Conan, wearing a yellow hard-hat emerged from the hole, which Ranma saw was slopped down alongside the wall. She was pushing a wheelbarrow full of dirt which she dumped onto a canvas sheet. Bending she folded the canvas till she had produced a sack which she placed on a dozen similar such sacks. She then turned and re-entered the hole.
Ranma rose up on fingers and toes and inched herself backward along the top of the wall till she was past the area bracketed by the canvas wall. She then dropped from her perch and landed easily on the ground. Turning she looked at the fabric beside her and saw it was painted to match the texture and coloration of the wall. From even a short distance away it would blend into the real wall. She stared at this for a second, and then shrugged it off as being of no importance to her. She set off at a slow jog toward the main building of the girl’s school.
Inside the school, the principal looked up at his clock, and a wide grin spread across his wrinkled face. Time to give his pretties a little exercise. A dozen laps around the school should get both their and his blood nicely pumping. And then maybe he could look up Hinako and do a different sort of pumping. With a cackle of laughter he bounded over his desk, and out into the hallway, where he turned and headed toward the changing room where the last gym class of the day was no doubt showering.
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(Posted Sat, 23 Oct 2004 00:58)
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