Okay. Don’t panic. You can do this. You are Carmellia d’Eros, self-proclaimed Senshi of Badass. You won’t let a little thing like a few millennia of time displacement faze you, will you? Thought not.
Right, enough self-assurance. What do I know? Not much. Akane was the one asking most of the questions. I’ve got some residual memories, though. Should be able to speak the language, and I'll recognize her home if I see it. I hope.
Looks like this is my stop. Here it goes…
“The horror…” Ryoga was in the fetal position, hidden under a park bench while his mind recovered from the ordeals found in the previous universe. “The sun. It…it looked at me. And those things…”
“Excuse me?” A familiar voice broke through the layers of mental scarring which had accumulated in the world of the Teletubbies. “Can you tell me how to get to Nerima from here?”
“Akane!” Ryoga stood to attention, accidentally uprooting the bench in the process. It ended up resting on his shoulders like a set of municipally funded pauldrons.
The girl of his dreams (well, some of them. There was Akari, after all.) raised an eyebrow. “More or less. So, Nerima? Directions thereto? Savvy?”
Ryoga paused, confused. “Why would you need directions to Nerima, Akane? You live there. Unless…” Could it be? Could Akane have actually returned his affections, and thus contracted the Hibiki curse? O bittersweet rapture! (That said curse was normally sexually transmitted was conveniently ignored, in the traditional Nerima manner of not letting facts get in the way of a perfectly enjoyable delusion.)
As Ryoga waxed Kunonic, Carmellia-in-Akane snapped her fingers under his nose. “Hoy! Get yer head out of the clouds an’ tell me which way ta go already!” Her control of the language apparently faded with her temper.
This rudeness only served to further stun Ryoga. How? How could his beloved Akane, his defender against Ranma’s dirty tactics and vile depredations, be acting like that very same gender-changer? She…she must have chosen him. A leaden aura of depression condensed about the Lost Boy. Despondently, he pointed in the direction in which he believed Nerima to be. It wasn’t the exact opposite direction, so it was in fact one of his better guesses.
“Thanks,” replied the girl. Under her breath, she added, “Vapor-brain.”
Resignedly, Ryoga donned his backpack and trudged off. Within seconds, he wandered back out of his native universe, not even noticing.
Well, I’ve got directions. Just have to keep walking until…I… This doesn’t feel right. No, no, I should be going that way. Yeah.
Great. Guy couldn’t even string together enough brain cells to get his bearings straight. Oh well, I’m nearly there.
By this point, Ranma had passed that point in his roof hopping where his route diverged from those of Ukyo and Shampoo. Indeed, he was just about to make the transition from roof to fence when he spotted Akane. The sight of her in what seemed to be full working order was a massive relief for the martial artist. All he’d been able to get from Ukyo was that Akane had been assigned the far north in the pan-Japan search, and that no one had heard from her since she boarded train due thataway.
Ranma jumped to the sidewalk and dashed to his principal fiancée. “Hey, Akane! I was wo—” He caught himself. No, she’d just take offense if he told her he’d been concerned. Better twist it a bit. “I was wonderin’ where ya were.”
“Eh?” The girl turned, recognition absent from her expression. “Oh…yeah. Hi.”
“Y’ okay there, Akane?” Something was clearly not right. “Shampoo didn’t try that amnesia shiatsu again, did she?”
“Wha?” Carmellia had no idea what this guy was talking about. Cute, though. If only he didn’t already know her modern analogue, she could’ve had a little fun…
“Well, let’s get home. We c’n figger it out there.” Ranma decided he’d met his abnormality quota for the day, and whatever the trouble, it could and would have to wait until morning.
“Let’s”? As in living together? Cohabitation? Much more than what I expected from Little Miss Prude…wait. She mentioned living with her family. Either people are more open-minded nowadays then they were on Venus, or… Great. First piece of eye candy in ten thousand years and it’s her freaking brother.
“Hic. Dang it.”
What the…no way. No freaking way. That hair. That face. Those boobs.
Carmellia stared like a deer in headlights. “Zoamel?”
The time-slowing Exceptionally Dim Dome gradually withdrew. Those who had been trapped within had the distinct feeling that their brains had skipped a beat, which is far disconcerting than when it’s the heart. Well, everyone except Setsuna. She had passed out.
As Hotaru rushed to her foster mother’s side, her other foster mother went for her Senshi communicator in order to contact her other other foster mother. (This is the real reason people are opposed to polygamy and same-sex marriages. It’s a genealogical nightmare.)
Instead of Michiru, a frazzled, battle worn Sailor Mercury picked up the call. “Where in the name of all that is holy have you people been!?”
Haruka was surprised by the normally calm girl’s outburst. “What’s the problem?”
Mercury’s expression turned hysteric. “You want to know the problem? I’ll tell you the problem. The problem is that we’ve got motherf@$%ing zombies in the motherf@$%ing Smithsonian!”
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(Posted Sun, 02 Mar 2008 01:47)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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