There were only two things Ranma was truly scared of.
The first, and most well known if his fears, was cats. Everybody and their sister knew about his ailurophobia, the circumstances behind it, and to stay the hell away from him when he’s near a cat. Of course, thanks to pretty much having his personality overwritten by that of Prince Ran’s, that particular fear had gone from overwhelming, mind-numbing, berserker-state-inducing at the thought of a cat to merely moderate discomfort at the sight of one. Of course, he couldn’t make any promises when there was more then one.
The second one was just as well known. It was also not an irrational fear, unlike the first. It was one that everybody that lived within a one mile radius shared. It was a nightmare-making, madness-inducing, all-encompassing fear. It was so strong, in fact, it was one of the few things that had survived from the old Ranma.
It was the fear of Akane’s cooking.
And it was a fear that was quickly consuming him once again.
He’d been in the middle of his “Taidama” when the smell had hit him. That burning, noxious, soul-destroying smell that was wafting from the kitchen. His hand had immediately flown to his nose, but it hadn’t helped at all.
“Huh. And here I thought you had somehow heard about this and ran for it. I should have known you wouldn’t be that lucky,” a nasally voice said from the stairs. Ranma looked over… and would have started laughing had he not been in so much sensory pain. As it was, he snorted, and felt his lungs burn momentarily for his troubles.
There was Nabiki, a surgical mask over her mouth, a clothes-pin pinching her nose (hence the dorky voice), and wearing clothes that covered as much skin as possible.
“Does that even help?” he had to ask.
“A little, I guess. At least my nose doesn’t feel like its going to fall off anymore.”
“Just why isn’t Kasumi stopping this?”
“She had to go over to a friend’s.”
“Oh. Well, fuck.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Then what are you still doing here? Usually you’d be gone by now.”
“Homework… for the first hour. Then my computer burned out, and I’ve been trying to fix it ever since.”
“Oh. Any luck on that?”
"No. All the circuits were melted. I think it was the fumes.”
“…You’re kidding.”
“Nope. It’s the same for just about every electronic in the house.”
“You’re telling me Akane created a chemical EMP?”
“Looks like.”
“God damn…”
“Don’t I know it.”
“…So, what now?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m going out to buy a new computer, followed by dinner at someplace less hazardous then here. Like the red light district.”
“Cool. I’m coming with.”
“I don’t think so. Akane needs a guinea pig to keep her happy. And I’d rather not have her mad, thank you very much.”
“Oh. Easily fixed. Where’s Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”
“…I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you’re asking about Daddy and Mr. Saotome?”
“Who else?”
“They’re in the den. I think they’re planning to ambush you before heading out for the bars.”
“Cool. Thanks, Nabi-chan. I’ll be right back.”
Ranma calmly walked into the den and out of sight. Almost immediately there were cries of “Ranma! My baby girl has cooked a wonderful meal for you!” (Soun) and “You will eat your fiancé’s cooking, son! It is for the good of the schools!” (Genma).
A pause for a moment, then Ranma’s voice as it said, “Guys, I need to talk to you about Akane…” It trailed off. Another short pause, then…
CONK!
A sound not unlike two coconuts hitting each other was heard. Ranma soon walked back out of the living room, now dragging the two fathers behind him, both unconscious and sporting a generous lump on their heads. He continued on into the dining room, and once again out of sight.
A shuffling sound could be heard, followed by Ranma’s return, dusting off his hands in a decidedly self-satisfied manner.
“Alright, done. Let’s go,” Ranma said, walking past Nabiki and out the door.
“What did you do?” Nabiki asked, by now undeniably curious. She followed him out, being sure to close the door on her way out. She didn’t want to deal with the hazmat team… again.
“I knocked them out, tied them up, and left Akane a note saying how they had so willingly volunteered to eat her cooking.”
“That… is absolutely evil, Ranma. It was brilliant, I have to admit, but evil nonetheless.”
“Eh,” Ranma grunted as he shrugged nonchalantly. “So, where to, Nabiki? Ucchan’s? The Nekohanten? Or were you serious about the red light district?”
“That depends. You buying?”
“Can’t. You took all my money, remember?”
“Oh… in that case, I’ll pay, but I’m putting it on your tab.”
“How ‘bout we count this as the beginning of you paying me back for all those royalties and profits you owe me?”
“What ever are you talking about, Ranma?”
Ranma just gave her a flat look.
“Fine,” she huffed, scowling at him. “Damn it. I’m really beginning to hate this smarter you.”
Ranma just laughed.
When the duo finally got back, it was late at night. The house had, somehow, aired out, and everyone was asleep… well, everyone but the fathers, who looked more like they were three-fourths dead then asleep. Ranma and Nabiki had only stopped long enough to give them a couple of testing nudges before continuing on his way.
Dinner, and the subsequent computer shopping, had been surprisingly fun. They’d gone to downtown Tokyo, where they’d eaten at an Anna Miller’s (Nabiki had relentlessly teased Ranma about the waitresses that had been constantly shooting him looks the whole time he was there), followed by a shopping trip that had ended with both Ranma-chan and Nabiki… convincing a poor store technician to give them several free upgrades for the brand-spanking new computer they’d gotten at discount.
Nabiki, followed by a package-laden Ranma (“Why the hell am I carrying YOUR computer?” “Because you’re a big, strong martial artist and I’m not.” “Uh-huh. Right.”), quietly sneaked into her room, where Ranma carefully dropped the packages, bid her goodnight, and quickly made his way back to his own room.
He ungracefully flopped onto his futon. ‘Wow… what a day,’ he thought as he lay there, ‘Kasumi, Xian Pu, Ucchan, Kuno… none of them exactly went as planned, but I still got quite a bit done.’ He smiled. ‘Yep… not bad. Not bad at all…’
He drifted off to sleep.
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(Posted Tue, 26 Feb 2008 08:25)
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