Ranma took a deep breath and recited the transformation phrase: “I invoke the name of Amaterasu!” As she said it, the redhead unsheathed the katana that the Sun Goddess had given her, pointing it skyward. Instantly, the blade began to glow a bright white, which soon surrounded the teenage girl, obscuring her from sight. Ranma was quite glad for this, since the light magically dissolved her clothing, replacing it a few moments later with the garb of the Taiyohime. Soon afterward, the light faded, leaving the newly appointed magical girl in the presence of her divine patron.
Perhaps surprisingly, Ranma’s first response was utterly practical: “Uh, does it always take that long to perform? I mean, I don’t wanna leave any openings.”
“Yes, it always takes the same amount of time,” Amaterasu answered with a nod. “A little more than two seconds.”
“Huh? It seemed longer.”
“Most of your predecessors felt that way the first time they transformed as well. But even so, you hardly need to worry about a sucker punch; when you transform, you glow so brightly that it’s difficult for normal humans to look directly at you.”
With this out of the way, Ranma took the time to examine her costume more closely, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was not a dress. Rather it was a red bodysuit that covered her from her neck to her ankles, combined with a pair of white elbow gloves that stopped about three-quarters of the way up her arms, and a sturdy, yet flexible, pair of white leather boots. The suit’s high neckline ended with a choker studded with rubies and diamonds that matched the earrings now on her lobes perfectly, while her hair was no longer in a shoulder-length pigtail, but done up in high, unbraided ponytail extending to the small of her back and held in place by a large, white, silk hair ribbon.
However, Ranma’s attention was soon drawn to two more details about her costume: first, the bodysuit (and the gloves) were absolutely skintight, to the point where, from a distance, one might think they were painted on (the only places where it wasn’t snug enough to leave nothing to the imagination were her genital area and her nipples). Second, there was a large circular hole on her upper chest that drew attention to her ample cleavage. “Uh, about the hole…”
“That’s symbolic of your connection with me—you take in my power through your heart, metaphorically speaking, so the physical area around it is bared to represent our unobstructed connection.”
“Right. And it’s tight because…”
“Because that way, it doesn’t affect you in battle. If you prefer, there is an alternate costume, but that one is more in line with a ‘standard’ magical girl outfit.”
“In other words, it’s a short, frilly dress.”
“Exactly.”
“And how is this is gonna protect me?”
“Technically, your physical costume is not what protects you; rather, the supernatural power that comes with it does. That’s the standard for most magical girls.”
“I think I got it; so to protect mobility, I have to choose between Cutey Honey and Wedding Peach?”
“Essentially.”
Ranma screwed up her face. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but she had to admit that she preferred the former to the latter. Thus, she moved on to her next subject: “So, if this is skintight so it doesn't get in my way, then what’s the deal with my hair?”
“The transformation magic grows your hair out in lieu of a cape or cloak. If it becomes a hindrance to fighting, feel free to cut it with your katana. Every time you transform, it will grow to that length.”
“Oh, okay. And when I change back…”
“…you’ll have the same hairstyle you did before you changed.”
“Got it. So, uh, how do I use all these new powers? For that matter, what are these new powers?”
Amaterasu sighed. “Well, there’s an easy way to learn that, and a hard way. One option is for you to study the scrolls I wrote when I anointed the first Taiyohime.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“There are 144 of them, they’re written in a dialect of Japanese that’s more than 2,000 years old, and at the time, I assumed anyone who would read them would already be an accomplished spellcaster with an intimate working knowledge of magic.”
Ranma blanched at this particular bit of news. “So what’s the hard way?”
“That is the hard way.”
The redhead relaxed. “Oh—so the easy way is simpler?”
“Oh, my, yes. Given how fast you learn, I wouldn’t be surprised if you learned everything there is to know in a few months. However, it could prove… awkward.”
“Why?”
“Because the easy way is to let your mother teach you.”
The Taiyohime slumped her shoulders. “Great… isn’t there any other way?”
She half expected the Sun Goddess to reply with an apologetic negative, but instead, the deity thoughtfully rubbed her chin. “Actually, now that I think about it…”
It had taken a while, but Nabiki had eventually been able to convince her younger sister that she wasn’t about to cave in to her attempts at needling, and in time Akane left her sister’s room, giving her some much-desired privacy. Nabiki leaned back in her office chair as she spoke into the mobile phone she’d recently acquired (so recently, in fact, that none of her family members were aware of its existence) and continued her conversation with the unknown party on the other end. “Don’t worry about it. Things never go as smoothly as planned when Ranma’s involved. No, I said he was mostly predictable. That means you can usually predict what he’ll eventually do, but not path he takes to get there. Trust me, everything’s going to be fine.
“Besides, you haven’t heard the best part yet: his mother still hasn’t put two and two together. I know! Runs in the family, I guess. Oh, it is going to be wonderful when she finds out….”
Cologne was wrapping up what had been a particularly busy day at the Nekohanten; apparently, Ukyo had to close Ucchan’s for some family-related business, and thus most of her customers had decided to get their meals from her Amazonian competition. She had almost finished mopping the floor when she heard a familiar voice behind her. “Hey, Cologne.”
This was somewhat surprising, since she hadn’t heard anyone enter, but then, the owner of that voice was unusually talented. She turned around to greet the recent arrival: “What is it, Son-in-ah, crap.” Ranma stood before her wearing a very familiar skintight bodysuit and a pronounced scowl. She lifted her katana off of her shoulder and pointed it at the Matriarch.
“You’ve got some explaining to do.”
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(Posted Sun, 12 Sep 2010 18:45)
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