Makoto remembered Haruka’s big speech — it had turned out to be an apology for her habit of deliberately making the rest of them uncomfortable for her own amusement. It was actually rather confusing, at least as far as she was concerned: to Makoto’s way of thinking, the discrimination homosexuals faced in real life meant that they should be allowed to take more risks in their interactions with those that they trusted. Still, it had been quite nice to hear Haruka reaffirm that she didn’t necessarily think that any of the Inner Senshi weren’t heterosexual, though the carefully worded disclaimer that followed was odd to say the least: “I also hope that I haven’t discouraged you from any self-exploration you may have wanted to undertake.” It was a distinctly un-Haruka-like sentence, which meant she (or Michiru) had prepared it ahead of time, which in turn meant that it was important.
But Makoto couldn’t seem to figure out why it was important — at least, not until a few hours later that night, when she met up with Setsuna so she could use the Time Guardian’s recently-acquired breast pump. She was certain that Setsuna had bought the (admittedly expensive) pump for her: after all, the Time Guardian hadn’t been present at the fight with the demon-possessed dairy milker that had put Makoto in this rather embarrassing situation, so it wasn’t as though she had any pressing need to be lactated. But when Setsuna had offered to share her husband… that had set Makoto’s thinking off into all sorts of scandalous tangents. Suddenly, it seemed that the author of Haruka’s odd statement was probably neither the racer nor her lover, but instead their somewhat aloof green-haired roommate.
Of course, beyond her own vague hunch, Makoto didn’t actually have any evidence to connect Setsuna’s offer to “share” Ranma with Haruka’s circumlocuted suggestion that the Inners make a closer examination of their sexual orientations. Well, Setsuna had claimed that she “would be pleased no matter what form the relationship takes,” and such an open statement would no doubt include relationships with Ranma’s female form; in fact, a relationship with the female Ranma would probably be an extremely effective way to prevent unexpected pregnancy. But Makoto could theoretically get that from a relationship with any of the other Senshi—
Jeez, what’s with you Makoto? Two days ago, the only problem you had with your sexuality was the possibility that it might remain dormant, and now you’re seriously considering having sex with your best friends? Makoto shook her head to try and clear her mind, which was currently muddled with a half-dozen confusions that she’d never experienced before. There was an easy solution: she’d just talk to Setsuna when she went over to her house to be milked again… which was going to have to be pretty soon, considering how her breasts were starting to ache again. Ugh… stupid perverted monster.
Genma was not happy, but that was to be expected. After all, gas in the Tendo home had unexpectedly shut off sometime last night, which meant no hot water until the repairman arrived, which, according to Kasumi, would be sometime tomorrow afternoon. So, the Master of the Saotome School of Anything Goes found herself stuck in her female body with its annoying large breasts throwing off her balance for the next day and a half. Genma really wanted to blame somebody, and though Nabiki and that pink-haired monstrosity both had rather suspicious-looking smirks on their faces at breakfast that morning, she couldn’t pin anything on them.
Compounding this bad mood was her son’s tardiness for the day’s training — ordinarily, putting Ranma through the wringer managed to alleviate at least some of Genma’s accumulated stress, but today he showed up several hours late.
“When I say dawn, I mean dawn, boy. As in, when the sun comes up, not when its halfway through morning.”
“Heh, sorry ’bout that, Pops, but Setsuna kinda kept me up real late last night.”
“Doing what? Plotting to make my life even more miserable?”
“Uh, no… from where I stand, ya do a pretty good job of makin’ yerself miserable without any outside help.”
“Then what were you doing?”
“Havin’ sex,” Ranma answered bluntly.
“What?! How could you have sex with… with her?!”
“Well, married people tend ta do that sorta thing.”
“That’s no excuse — look at your mother and that Amazon woman. They aren’t having sex, are they?”
Ranma raised an eyebrow at this. “Pops, are ya sayin’ that ya actually accept that Mom and Tissue are married?”
“What? I — no!”
“I gotta say, that’s pretty damn progressive for someone like you. Didn’t think ya had it in ya — I’m real proud of ya, Pops,” Ranma continued with his trademark smirk becoming even more pronounced.
“Shut up!” Genma exploded before she suddenly regained control of herself, taking several deep breaths until her face paled back from the solid red color it had acquired in her anger. “Nice job, boy — glad to see you haven’t lost your touch in my absence.”
“Well, I had a real good sensei,” Ranma replied honestly; for all Genma’s faults, he (or she, when applicable) really was brilliantly effective when he was actually teaching. Of course, as the Neko-ken had proven, Genma was often foolish when it came to deciding what his student actually needed to be taught.
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“Actually, accordin’ ta what ya’ve taught me, flattery gets ya everywhere.”
“Touché. Clearly, I don’t need to worry about your mental processes atrophying, so what say we get started on the physical side of things?”
“Bring it on.”
Fifteen minutes later, Ranma was dirty, wet, female, and nursing a growing lump on her forehead, along with other bumps and bruises. “Ow….”
“Let this be a lesson to you, boy,” stated Genma, who kept referring to her son as male, regardless of his physical form (something that Ranma really didn’t mind at all, actually). “The fact that you can win mind games will not necessarily prevent your opponent from totally kicking your ass.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” the redhead replied as she accepted an icepack from Kasumi. “Though, actually, that does remind me of somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ ta talk ta ya about.”
“Hmm? What do you mean, boy?”
“Ryoga showed up again.”
“Has he now? Good — it’s always nice for you to have extra motivation to train. What trick did he learn this time, and how badly were you beaten?”
“Actually, I managed ta win this time by activatin’ my curse. My girlform’s cute enough that it got him ta pass out.”
“I see. Well, it’s good to hear that you can find some use for your misfortune. Now, would you mind explaining why you couldn’t beat him the conventional way?”
Ranma proceeded to describe the Iron Cloth Armor technique to her father, focusing on its seemingly impenetrable defense. “I just can’t see how ta get by it,” she concluded. “Physical attacks won’t work, an’ he guards his bare skin too well for me ta get a shot in — plus, with his unlimited bandanna supply, he could cover his face an’ hands real easy. I figure the my best shot is a ki technique, but my confidence is so low that I can’t use the Moko Takabisha, an’ I don’t know anything else powerful enough ta get by it. So, uh, I was sorta wonderin’ if that Umi-sen-ken style ya told me about might help….”
Genma sighed and brought her hand to her temple. Why did I ever tell him about the Umi-sen-ken? Ever since that day, Ranma had been trying to cajole her father into revealing its secrets (which served no purpose except to make Genma glad that she’d never mentioned the Yama-sen-ken to her son). Fortunately, there was a rather obvious way out. “Alright, son, I’ll tell you the secrets of the Umi-sen-ken—”
“Awesome!” Ranma responded as she pumped her fist.
“—but first…”
Ranma’s celebration was cut short. “Huh?”
“First I want you to answer me this question: did you try taking his clothes off?”
“What?”
“Ryoga. You say that he’s using ki to transform his clothing into armor which you couldn’t penetrate. However, you didn’t tell me what happens when you remove his clothing from the picture altogether.”
“Uh… well….”
“Don’t tell me that Mr. Progressive is afraid of a little homoeroticism,” Genma replied with an evil-looking grin.
“No, it’s not that, it’s just….”
“It’s just what?”
“I, uh… I didn’t think of it at the time.”
“Well, I suggest you keep that in mind the next time you meet up with him. I’ve told you this plenty of times before, Ranma: I’m not going to unseal the Umi-sen-ken unless it’s absolutely necessary. Understand?”
“Yes, sensei,” came Ranma’s downtrodden reply.
“Good. Now, I suggest you get yourself cleaned up while I start a fire to boil some water.”
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(Posted Sun, 21 Jan 2007 00:37)
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