Ranma sat alone under a tree outside Lawndale High School, recalling the events of the first classes of the day. Apparently, Ranma’s mysterious benefactor had taken care of everything, even going so far as to pick his classes for him. Not that he was complaining about the choices, mind you, but it would have been nice to be consulted. ‘Still, at least I don’t have to suffer alone.’ He had met Daria out the front of the school as her father dropped her and her sister off, and had quickly decided to keep her company while they waited for the bell; Daria reading some old, dog-eared book, and Ranma checking out the milling crowd for any signs of combat training.
After the bell rang, things got interesting…
Ranma followed Daria and the rest of the crowd as the pantsuit-wearing Principal Li led the fresh meat through the building. At the end of the tour, the Korean Administrator waved a hand at a wall covered in trophies, plaques and banners. “As you can see, Lawndale High students take great pride in their school. That’s why you will each be taking a small psychological exam to spot any little clouds on the horizon as you sail the student seas at Lawndale.” She checked the clipboard in her hands. “All except Mister Ranma Saotome.” She looked back up and made eye contact with the Martial Artist at the back of the group. “Mister Saotome, we’ve already been handed a copy of your psych’ profile, so Miss Landon here will be showing you to your homeroom. The rest of you, follow me.”
As the group walked off, Ranma gave Daria’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and received a faint smile in response. Soon he was left alone with a pretty African-American girl with dreadlocks and a clipboard. She smiled cheerfully at him, prompting him to return it, and shook his hand. “Welcome to Lawndale High, Ranma. I’m Jodie Landon, but you can call me Jodie. If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to come to me about them; I’m Vice-President of the Student Council, and I’m on pretty good terms with the Faculty, so chances are I can help you out. Well, this way…” She walked down a hall, and waited for Ranma to catch up before speaking again. “So, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”
Ranma chuckled morbidly. ‘Pity I can’t actually remember anything.’ Jodie had been very sympathetic when she learned of his amnesia, and had offered to show the pig-tailed sophomore around town and introduce him to some people. ‘Maybe I’ll take her up on her offer after I settle into my new workload.’ There was a rack of old scrolls in his basement that almost demanded attention, and the crazy History teacher, Mr DeMartino, had managed to be both understanding and sadistic…
The grizzled teacher at the front of class looked like the quintessential disgruntled educator. His tie was crooked, his shirt dishevelled, and his face set in magnificent scowl. “Class, we have two new STUDENTS joining us today; please welcome Daria Morgendorffer, and Ranma SAOTOME! Could the TWO of you raise your hands?” He smirked as the two students cautiously obeyed. “WELL, Daria! As long as you have your hand raised...” He chuckled evilly. “Last week we began a unit on westward expansion. Perhaps you feel it's UNFAIR to be asked a question on your first day of class?”
The cynical teen blinked, but that was the only outward sign of her confusion. “Excuse me?”
“Daria, can you concisely and unemotionally sum up for us the doctrine of Manifest Destiny?”
Daria nodded. “Manifest Destiny was a slogan popular in the 1840s. It was used by people who claimed it was God's will for the U.S. to expand all the way to the Pacific Ocean.” She paused for a heartbeat before continuing. “These people did not include many Mexicans.”
DeMartino stared at her appraisingly. “Very good, Daria. Almost…suspiciously good.” He turned to the other newbie. “Don’t think, even for a MOMENT, that you have escaped public humiliation, Mr Saotome; I am aware of both your recent TRANSFER from Japan, and your AMNESIA! I will be lenient for one month, giving you time to read through your textbook. After that, you’re in the same dire straits as the rest of the PROCESSED SAUSAGES that are your classmates. UNDERSTOOD!”
Ranma was torn between nodding nervously, and staring in fascination as the Faculty member’s eye periodically bulged from its socket. In the end, he just did both.
DeMartino nodded to himself, satisfied that he’d sufficiently intimidated the potential jock. “All right, class. Who can tell me which war Manifest Destiny was used to justify?” His gaze snapped to a grinning idiot in a blue and yellow football uniform. “KEVIN! How about you?”
Kevin’s smile wavered briefly as his brain tried to start, but it came back in full force as his grey matter failed. “Uhh…the Vietnam War?”
“That came a little later, Kevin... a HUNDRED YEARS later! A lot of good men died in that conflict, Kevin, and I believe we OWE it to them to AT LEAST GET THE CENTURY RIGHT!”
Kevin, not quite understanding his perilous situation, tried again. “Uh... Operation Watergate?”
“…son, promise me you'll come back and see me some day when you've got the HEINSMAN TROPHY and a chain of AUTO DEALERSHIPS, and I'M saving up for a SECOND PAIR OF PANTS! Will you promise me that, Kevin?”
Things had only gone downhill from there. Ranma may have been amnesic, but he knew he was no genius, and he knew he could be tactless if not very careful, but the dynamic duo of Kevin and Brittany were in a whole new league of mindless irritation.
Ranma might have felt sorry for DeMartino, but the teacher had been exceptionally rude to Daria, screaming at her to ‘stop showing off’ when she tried to answer his question. It might not have shown on her face, but the mild, lingering sadness she felt was clear to see, and feel, in her aura.
The Art class was thankfully more pleasant, and the teacher, Ms Defoe, had spent the period discussing the syllabus and allowing them to familiarise themselves with the classroom and equipment.
With nothing else to do but think while he waited, Ranma decided to think about something interesting, slid a metal cylinder from his backpack, and unscrewed the end. Tipping a parchment scroll into his hand he unrolled it, found where he’d left off, and began to read.
“Hello Ranma!”
Starting in surprise, Ranma looked up to see Jodie and another African-American teen, a guy, that also had dreadlocks. Seeing his examination of her companion, Jodie wrapped her arm around her partner and smiled a little more broadly.
“Ranma, this is my boyfriend, Michael Jordan MacKenzie. Mack, this is Ranma, the guy I’ve been telling you about.”
The two guys shook hands amiably while weighing each other up.
“Pleased to meet you, Michael.”
“Same here, Man. Oh, and just call me Mack; everybody else does.” He glanced down at the scroll still in Ranma’s other hand. “If you don’t mind me asking, what was that you were just reading?”
Ranma considered lying, but there was no real reason for it, and he wasn’t particularly good at it. “It’s a scroll explaining meditation techniques that help a person to manipulate Ki more effectively.”
“Ki?”
“It’s an energy that everybody carries within them, and once they learn to harness it, they can grow beyond the boundaries imposed upon them by the limitations of their own flesh and blood.” At his audiences’ somewhat confused expressions, Ranma elaborated. “I’m pretty sure it means that I can get way stronger than I am now.”
Now they looked doubtful as they glanced at each other, then back at the Asian teen. “So…have you figured out how to use this ‘Ki’ yet?”
Ranma grimaced. “I can already use my Ki, but according to this I’m not very good at it yet.” He held out his hand, palm up, and focussed. In moments a ball of shimmering sapphire energy rested in his hand. “See? I have to use emotions to focus it, which is apparently a real bad idea.”
“I guess this kind of explains how you were able to move all of my families stuff around so easily.”
Snuffing out the energy, Ranma grinned and turned to the new arrival. “Hey Daria!”
Daria actually looked a little taken aback; apparently she wasn’t used to having someone her own age act so happy to see her. “Um…Hi, Ranma. Who are your friends?”
Ranma turned back to the dating duo and blinked as he saw their stupefied state. “Jodie? Mack?” When he got no response he shrugged sheepishly. “Anyway, This is Jodie, Vice-President of the Student Council, and Mack…I’m not exactly sure what he does.”
“…not very lively, are they?”
“I guess. I wonder why they’re acting like this? I mean, you and your family were surprised, but you all snapped out of it pretty quickly.”
Daria smirked. “Keep in mind that yesterday you were just lifting stuff around. We got over the fact that you were damn strong pretty quickly, though that disappearing letter planted you firmly into the ‘weird’ category. ‘Jodie’ and ‘Mack’ here just got a front-row, first-time look at an actual super-human human.”
The martial artist frowned as he rolled up the scroll and slid it back into its case. “…it’s not that big a deal, is it?”
His friend took a moment to properly word her response. “It’s a rather big deal, actually. You should probably keep the lightshows to a minimum; I know most schools would be wary of a super-human student wandering around. And in the spirit of keeping a low profile, I think it would be best of we moved away from these two Madame Tussaud’s wannabes. How about the cafeteria?”
Ranma looked eager to head towards sustenance, but also a little uneasy. “Are you sure leaving them here like this is ok?”
Daria grabbed grabbed the strap of his backpack and began pulling him away. “They’re in the middle of the school grounds, what could possibly happen?”
Little did the departing duo know, they were abandoning the poor petrified sophomores to a fate worse than death…
“Hey Mack-Daddy, what’s up?”
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(Posted Thu, 05 May 2005 19:36)
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