Or rather, she would have introduced him, had Usagi not decided to take that duty upon herself.
“Hi! You must be Ranma we’ve heard so much about you well actually we haven’t heard much about you at all except for your name but you know what I mean oh excuse me where are my manners I’m Usagi Tsukino one of Setsuna’s friends and this is Ami Mizuno and this is Minako Aino and this is Makato Kino and the big meanie over there who won’t let me have any cookies is Rei Hino and that that guy in the corner is my boyfriend Mamoru Chiba and these are Setsuna’s roommates Haruka Ten’oh Michiru Kaioh and Hotaru Tomoe well now you know everyone so how about you tell us something about yourself hmmm?”
“Uh…” Ranma just stared at her, trying to process everything the girl with the weird hairstyle had said.
“Congratulations, Usagi. I think you broke Setsuna’s husband,” quipped the “big meanie.”
Weird Hairstyle Girl looked a bit hurt at the comment, though Ranma wasn’t sure why—he always had difficulty interpreting mushy emotions. Fortunately, the guy with the short blond hair stepped in before things got even more confusing. “I think Usagi here just went a bit too fast. Hell, I’m on a first name basis with everyone in the room and right now I’m confused as to who’s who.” He then turned a girl with turquoise hair and with a noticeable smirk softly asked her, “I am Haruka, right?”
So Setsuna made a second round of introductions, at a pace that her husband could tolerate. The Weird Hairstyle Girl with the effervescent personality was, in fact, named Usagi, and now that he thought of it, Ranma realized that her hair wasn’t that weird—he’d seen similar styles in Joketsuzoku. However, this was the first time he’d seen a hairstyle like that outside of China. Ami resembled Akane, except her hair was a brighter shade of blue, and she seemed much more shy and demure, though her eyes showed definite sparks of intelligence. Rei was the raven-haired Shinto priestess in training, and from the others’ reaction to Usagi’s claim that she was a “meanie,” it appeared that the two clashed so often that the rest of their friends had long grown accustomed to their behavior. Minako and Makoto Ranma had some initial difficulties with, since their names were so similar (and both of them were staring at him with the same lovestruck look in their eyes). However, this problem was resolved when Makoto’s cookies were passed around (Ranma’s years on the road with his father had trained him to always remember the names of particularly good cooks that one might be able to hit up for favors later).
Then there was the second group. Ranma paid close attention to these folks—if they were Setsuna’s roommates, there was a good chance he’d be living with them for at least a little while. Ranma vaguely recognized Michiru Kaioh from Kasumi’s ill-fated attempt to teach him to appreciate classical music. An elegant young woman who obviously had good taste in fashion, she was the eldest Tendo sister’s favorite musician. Her boyfriend, as it turned out, had correctly identified himself as Haruka. He was a race car driver, and so bishonen that he made Sephiroth look like a slob with excessive body hair/odor. But despite the androgyny, he acted very much like a typical “guy”—the kind that Ranma didn’t have much trouble becoming friends with. Then there was Hotaru, a young, frail-looking girl with deep purple eyes who was being raised by Haruka, Michiru, and Setsuna—and apparently Ranma now as well. Frankly, Ranma wasn’t sure what was more surprising: the fact that the girl had immediately started calling him “Ranma-papa,” or the unexpectedly tight hug that came along with her greeting.
Finally, there was Mamoru, the young man Usagi had identified as her boyfriend. Mamoru looked like a typical Japanese man, only a bit taller. He seemed to be more introverted than the others—though that may have been due to the fact that he was currently busy setting up some sort of sound system than to any lack of introversion on his part. He was definitely more introverted than his girlfriend, but then, compared to Usagi, most people appear introverted. Speaking of which, Mamoru looked like he was several years older than his girlfriend—not that there was anything wrong with that. After all, Setsuna had to be older than him by at least five years (he didn’t know exactly how old she was; the first time he’d asked, he’d found out why you shouldn’t ask a woman that kind of question). Still, it was odd that all of Setsuna’s friends seemed to be younger than she was—something to ask about later, perhaps.
With that rather lengthy round of introductions out of the way, at last it was time for Setsuna’s friends to hear about her mysterious husband—just as soon as he’d had some food—it was evening, after all, and Ranma hadn’t eaten since lunch. Thus, Makoto brought out her cookies. They managed to last for two minutes, mostly because both Ranma and Usagi were restraining themselves in deference to the others. Fortunately, Makoto had had the foresight to prepare more than one batch (though it obviously wouldn’t be enough—she’d never expected that she’d meet someone whose appetite was a voracious as Usagi’s, let alone someone like Ranma, who could apparently out eat the leader of the Senshi.
Once that batch was polished off, Ranma finally got around to introducing himself to his wife’s friends. “Well, my name’s Ranma Meioh,” he started in his trademark drawl, “but it was Saotome before I married Setsuna. I’m 18 years old, and for mosta those years I’ve been trainin’ ta take over my family’s Martial Arts style—”
And then it happened. The members Ranma’s audience, who were clearly interested in what he had to say, leaned in so as to hear him more clearly. As they did so, one of the girls (Ranma wasn’t sure who, but he didn’t really care) knocked her drink into the martial artist’s lap. The silence that followed was deafening.
Not again, the once-again female martial artist thought as she slumped her shoulders and finished her sentence in a resigned soprano: “—and I’m been cursed ta turn inta a girl when I get splashed with cold water… dammit.”
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(Posted Sun, 11 Dec 2005 06:00)
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