Ranma walked out to the courtyard, and it was a dismal sight. The ground was strewn with uniformed bodies, some trying to rise, others blinking up at the sky or face down on the concrete. The sound of flesh being struck came every so often.
In truth, the heated brawl had already dragged on into a tired chore. The regular students had already fled, those who cared about the fighting were already beaten, and everyone else will shortly become too bored to continue.
He could've told his class that the fight would end this way, but they wouldn't want that answer.
Ranma savored the sight in front of him and the cool spring breeze. Not long, though. While he hadn't seen any brawls lately, he didn't need to enjoy this scene.
He strode on through the courtyard, and as more and more people recognized his clothes and face, the fight ground to a dead stop. All of the fighting had ceased by the time Ranma came to the school gate.
Even a bad reputation among middle-school rabble had a plus.
"Why are you here?" said Nanoha as Ranma walked by the ring of injured and groaning delinquents she stood inside. Her clothes were rumpled and she was panting hard, and her right hand still looked bad, but it seemed she had enough energy for suspicion.
Hmm. That was a hard question. Saying he wanted to stop the fighting for his classmates would sound like a lie. How could he explain to this stubborn girl?
Ranma said, "I am here to save the day."
He owed her no explanation.
Nanoha's mouth worked through responses until she decided on the obvious: "A little late, aren't you?"
"Bought milk first."
Ranma opened the hand-sized bottle of chocolate milk he was carrying, which he took from the cafeteria after leaving the classroom. The bottle had a picture of a smiling cartoon cow painted on its side. He reached into his pocket, and at the same time he looked out of the school gate at the empty street beyond.
Oh, to be out there doing something.
When Nanoha didn't respond, and Ranma heard the grunts of people being shoved aside behind him, he turned back.
No, it wasn't a teacher. Why was he still waiting for one to show up?
The noise came from one of the delinquents. Nanoha was watching the delinquent's approach, pushing people aside with one hand and clutching a claw hammer with the other. Out of the corner of Ranma's eye, he saw the delinquents in the courtyard start to circle them. Hmm.
The delinquent with the hammer walked to maybe twice the range he could swing at Ranma, which was enough to threaten with that weapon. He asked Ranma, "Are you Saotome?"
Ranma withdrew his hand from his pocket and patted the other side of his pants. Where was his straw? Ah, there it is.
This guy was taller and buffer than the rest of the delinquents, and Ranma supposed he could be their boss.
Ranma pasted "Hammer" onto his mental corkboard, and said, "Sure."
Unlike the kids who've confronted Ranma at school, Hammer didn't start out by attacking him. Instead, Hammer turned to the other delinquents. "I thought you said this Saotome guy was supposed to be real tough. This is it?" He turned to Ranma, tossing the hammer between his hands. "Look at him, standing there like he don't give a damn. I bet he likes thinking he's better than everybody else."
Ranma looked at Hammer's own scruffy uniform and bleached hair. He sighed, pulled out the pink bendy-straw he had gone into his pocket for, and inserted it into the milk bottle as if he was in elementary school.
He said, "Guilty."
Hammer must've been used to respect, because after the reply sank into his brain his face screwed up in fury, while the ring of delinquents surrounding Ranma also started cracking knuckles. There were quite a lot of them. Fifteen, in fact. Ranma doubted Nanoha could fight them all while tired.
Ranma drew a sip of chocolate milk through his bendy-straw. It tasted like dirt. He'd never buy this again.
Ranma swished the milk around his mouth and swallowed. "Putting that aside, I've been asked by my class to stop your fighting. Telling you not to fight won't solve your problems, but..."
Did he really want to say this? He took another sip of milk. Ah, there's no point second-guessing himself.
"...I can't let you fuckups disturb my day anymore, so from now on I forbid you all from fighting."
He didn't raise his voice, but a few people caught his words, and dark muttering began spreading through the courtyard at once.
Well, it was easy to say, but Ranma knew it'd be harder to enforce. People who've clashed with him every day shouldn't surrender at his mere declaration.
He expected the crowd to ponder his outrageousness, but to his profound irritation, Nanoha started yelling immediately.
"What kind of diplomacy was that? How can you convince everybody to stop fighting if you insult them in the same breath?"
Ranma turned his head to look down on Nanoha, because she was a child. "You think good manners would get better results?"
Nanoha gaped, but she fell quiet. And why not? Etiquette would persuade nobody, nor should it. Why would he sugar-coat his words?
Reactions varied. The committee members had been staring at him in silence since he walked into the courtyard, and nothing changed there. The delinquents wavered from grumbling anger to mocking laughter.
Hammer laughed, and with a smooth movement that spoke of practice, he dashed the small distance to Ranma with his weapon upraised.
In the same instant, the rest of the delinquent ring lunged for Ranma as well. They stopped themselves when a blow struck Hammer in the chest so hard that the boy was flung onto his back.
Hmm. Ranma took another sip of milk, his hands not having changed position.
Hammer clutched his chest, but he shook off the pain and scrambled to his feet. His second charge at Ranma wasn't supported by his clique.
A blow to his leg sent him sprawling before he took two steps.
The crowd could see that Ranma hadn't visibly moved, but there was Hammer so easily laid low.
Ranma continued to sip milk slowly, because if he finished drinking he'd have to hold an empty cow bottle with a bendy-straw, and that would look stupid.
Hammer yelled with a strangled voice and crawled to his feet again, and this time he drew back his arm to throw his weapon at Ranma.
The next blow could only be described as crushing. From the sound, it involved nothing less than broken bones, probably in the jaw or cheek.
The other delinquents stood before this bloody spectacle, utterly uncomprehending. So did the rest of the crowd. Nobody said a word except Nanoha, who stood there as dumbfounded as the rest. Ranma once again noticed she liked to interject her opinions a tad much.
"What did you do?" she said.
They weren't even smart opinions! Ranma couldn't help snapping at her. "It's not me doing it, you idiot!"
The shout made everyone unfreeze and look beyond Ranma, and the next expression that found its way onto each delinquent's face was jaw-dropped fear and resignation. It left Ranma to wonder why nobody noticed Takamichi Takahata, even though the man stood at the gate behind him no more than five meters away.
Ranma knew why everyone was afraid, though. This was Mahora's district disciplinarian, Takamichi Takahata. Takamichi had a strong reputation, according to Konoe, for keeping the peace in the schools. Konoe even said that Takamichi defeated an entire evil organization, though he provided no details on that claim. Whether it was doublespeak for "Takamichi is Konoe's enforcer", and the man goes around breaking power groups that threatened Konoe, Ranma didn't know.
It didn't matter, since Ranma knew that Takamichi was strong. The man did clobber him pretty badly the first day. That took power.
Ranma glanced over a shoulder at Takamichi as Takamichi walked into the courtyard with a benevolent smile. Why was this man here? Did one of the absent teachers call for him? Did Konoe send him, knowing that some expelled troublemakers would be returning to school today? Or did he come on his lunch hour to make sure Ranma wasn't getting into trouble?
Takamichi walked past both Ranma and Nanoha, apparently unbiased towards acquaintances when on the job. Fair enough, Ranma hadn't done anything worth criticizing.
The crowd looked on in awe. Clearly they bought into Takamichi's reputation.
Takamichi stopped, and began to speak loudly and clearly as befitting a teacher. He was smiling, but Ranma could feel an undercurrent of irritation. "I hope everyone has calmed down," he said, "and we won't have any more problems. If so, everything will be fine."
At this turn of events, the delinquents began squirming, while the disciplinary committee—and Nanoha—looked altogether too relieved at Takamichi's appearance. That was interesting. Were the disciplinary committee so confident that Takamichi would help them, when his classmates said that some committee members received suspensions along with the delinquents for fighting last year?
Finally, Takamichi turned back to Ranma and Nanoha. He looked at Ranma for a bare second, then away. "Nanoha, can you fill me in on what's happened?"
Ranma continued sipping his milk as Nanoha stumbled forward to explain. "We're fighting," she said, and gesturing to the clique delinquents, "because these formerly suspended students were allowed to return today, but when they did they immediately started raising trouble."
He had hoped for a new perspective on what he heard, but Nanoha didn't deliver. Well, he couldn't expect that much of her.
The rest of the crowd made no effort to clarify or contradict Nanoha's summary. Takamichi's eyes wandered over the patch on Nanoha's arm, then over the collected crowd. "I see," he said to Nanoha, "you've joined the school's student committee?" Takamichi was all teacherly goodwill. "That's very good! Leadership experience is important."
Ranma saw Nanoha beam at the approval. Yeah, yeah, he had encouraged Nanoha too. He considered pointing out that Nanoha joined the disciplinary subcommittee instead of the council, since that recruiter girl told him yesterday there's a difference... but that would mean ruining Nanoha's smile twice this lunch period, and there was a limit to assholery.
"Still, Nanoha," said Takamichi. "You should take care not to overdo it. Helping people is great, but if you're still always fighting, you won't learn anything or improve yourself."
"I wasn't trying to fight," said Nanoha in protest. "Before the fighting really started, I tried to get everyone talking things over calmly."
Oh? Ranma could believe Nanoha would try such a thing, meddler as she was—
"I see," said Takamichi. "But it didn't work out."
Nanoha looked down.
—and given Nanoha's track record, Ranma could believe she failed. Badly.
Takamichi looked over at Ranma, and gauged Ranma's mood as if he wanted to ask Ranma something.
Ranma drew noisily on his straw. The bottle was running empty.
"I see," said Takamichi again. "I suppose it might be too much to ask of you kids, but I don't have a problem with you trying."
Nanoha looked up in surprise, as did the discipline committee members nearby, and Ranma could almost see the thought in their minds. Did Takamichi just sanction Nanoha's work, and by extension the committee's? Ranma noted that the nearest delinquents did not like where the conversation just headed.
Before Ranma could consider this development, Takamichi was charged by three of the delinquents from Hammer's clique. They came close, but Ranma wasn't surprised to see them fall before touching Takamichi. Takamichi's face was full of surprise, but Ranma didn't believe for a second that the surprise was real.
Now that Takamichi defended himself with those invisible blows, the rest of the clique could only back off and feign harmlessness.
Nanoha apparently knew Takamichi well enough to put Takamichi's display of prowess from her mind. "Is that really alright, to leave it to us?"
"I don't know how it will work out," said Takamichi. "But you can try."
Seriously, thought Ranma, will nobody demand the teachers take care of the school?
Nanoha nodded to Takamichi's reply. "Then we'll do everything we can to maintain the school's order."
"I'm sure you will," said Takamichi. "If you can work everything out by yourselves, I'll leave the peace of this school to its own students."
Suddenly, Takamichi ducked away from an object flying toward the back of his head.
The crowd flinched as the object, a bottle with a smiling cartoon cow on its side, broke upon hitting the ground in a crash of glass.
Ranma glared at Takamichi, who straightened and looked back as if he had been expecting an attack the entire time.
"Ranma, do you have something to say?"
"I said I forbid these people from fighting."
On Nanoha's face, and those of everybody else, the same question appeared: what was he doing? Ranma ignored the rabble. Only Takamichi's understanding mattered.
Takamichi frowned, and the people nearby backed away.
"Why make that sort of declaration, Ranma? Are you saying you won't let the student council handle student affairs?"
"Of course I won't. Isn't it obvious? This school doesn't suit me the way it is, so I'll change it. That means whatever peace this place should get, I'll make. Not the student council, not the delinquent cliques, not the students or the teachers, and not you."
Takamichi turned to fully face Ranma, though he was only a few steps away. "You want to force what you dislike to fit your preference? Principal Konoe didn't put you here to promote such thinking. It's not what he had in mind for you, and as a teacher, I can't condone that mentality either."
"I don't remember asking your opinion."
The courtyard's breathing stopped.
This way was best, Ranma thought. The crowd didn't know it, but Old Man Konoe wanted him to learn about a normal life, so Ranma couldn't shape his environment to his liking without negating the lesson. That was what Takamichi meant.
On the other hand, did Konoe want Ranma to learn obedience over normality as well? He didn't know, but if Konoe wasn't trying to crush his independence then Konoe wouldn't allow Takamichi to block him every time he approached a line, especially without just cause. Konoe knew better than that.
Ranma would learn something from how Takamichi reacted.
Takamichi frowned. "I'm afraid I don't understand what it is you want."
"Then why don't I make it easy for you? I give this challenge: fight me, and when you lose, never set foot on these grounds again."
If the onlookers stopped breathing at his outrageous declarations before, they dropped halfway into the grave with this one. Their thoughts were obvious: how can a kid challenge Takamichi Takahata, who could beat everyone in the courtyard without becoming winded? Even if Ranma's could reputedly do the same, Takamichi's reputation was greater, and maybe some onlookers happened to know that Ranma's limp, the origin of all of Ranma's school troubles, was dealt by Takamichi. How could Ranma propose a fight with Takamichi, then?
At this moment, Ranma knew there was only one person in the entire school who wasn't looking at him like he was a fool. One person who didn't laugh. Who didn't looked forward to or cringe away from the impending confrontation. Everyone else did those things.
Takamichi didn't.
Nanoha was nearest, so she saw Takamichi's expression first. She tried to choke a word out, but Takamichi's silence spread until the courtyard mutters died away, and that left her nothing to say.
Maybe Nanoha remembered, maybe she didn't, but Ranma knew Takamichi would. Takamichi had heard, even if nobody else did, what Ranma left unstated.
Ranma told the two of them only yesterday, didn't he?
"If I was fighting for a real purpose, I'd be willing to hurt other people, and I'd fight on the spot. I wouldn't give my opponents the choice of fighting me."
Ranma took the first step toward Takamichi, and the moment he did so, Nanoha mustered the courage to jump between them.
"What are you saying," she shouted at Ranma, "in front of the entire school! Are you insa—"
But before she finished, Takamichi yelled, "Don't!"
It came too late, because Ranma had already burst through the space he shoved Nanoha out of with one arm. He heard the scrape of her body sliding across concrete a moment before Takamichi blocked his fist, and after that he didn't think about Nanoha anymore.
Ranma landed punches on Takamichi's shoulder and side before Takamichi managed to take his hands from his pockets and grab Ranma by the jacket. Takamichi threw Ranma back, but not far, because throwing left Takamichi open and Ranma launched a hook into the man's elbow. The throw only gave Takamichi a few steps of distance, but then again, Ranma's punches didn't seem to do much either—
An unseen blow hit Ranma in the cheek, knocking him back two paces.
Was this the man's attack?
Ranma saw Takamichi standing there with his hands in his pockets again, a placid look on his face.
Another blow almost pushed out his knee, but Ranma stayed standing. The impacts were about as strong as a normal man's punches, so they were nothing worth worrying about. Ranma raised his forearm and blocked the next blow that reached across the steps between them toward his chin.
The placid look on Takamichi's face vanished.
Ranma stepped forward, then crouched under the next blow that flew in a line over his head and rustled his hair. The blow smashed against the metal gate with a dull rattle. Ranma couldn't see these blows and he didn't know the technique's basic nature, but he saw enough of Takamichi's usage to guess Takamichi's tactics.
Takamichi's frown looked more grim now, and his blows became a barrage of three, then four, shaking Ranma's timing. More blows struck Ranma when he didn't dodge, but Ranma continued forward. As he advanced toward grabbing range, he took another two blows in full before Takamichi's rear leg shifted back to keep him at range.
Takamichi stopped before he took the step, and his frown faded in realization.
Ranma smiled just a little.
After all, he didn't care about beating Takamichi. Victory was achieving the goal, and Ranma had no reason to spend time, energy, patience, and health to achieve his. Ranma wanted to force the school to heel, and Takamichi's awe-inspiring reputation and confidence-inspiring approval would give the disciplinary committee an obstructive willfulness. To remove the obstruction, all Ranma needed to do was remove that awe and confidence. He didn't need to dominate his opponent, because forcing Takamichi to retreat was enough to crack the image of power, and therefore the force of his approval.
Ranma saw the light of realization on Takamichi's face, which turned back into a dark frown as Takamichi stopped retreating. Takamichi seemed smart enough to realize this plan, or maybe Konoe predicted Ranma would make this play. Either way was fine, because things would be harder if Takamichi wanted to fight.
Takamichi's frown darkened further, and he stepped forward.
Ranma had no compunctions whatsoever about hopping back, or watching with that small smile as Takamichi glanced at the crowd. The conclusion was obvious: Takamichi had to carefully decide how to act, to project an image that's neither too strong nor too weak, while Ranma could act however he pleased. Ranma could retreat whenever he wanted, because nobody considered him the powerful one and nobody looked up to him as a dependable authority.
Unable to retreat and unable to advance, Takamichi instead asked, "What are you trying to accomplish, Ranma? This is going a little far just to establish yourself in the school."
Ranma didn't respond. He didn't come here, challenge Takamichi, or put on this clown show to play at questions and answers. Let Takamichi flap his mouth.
As Takamichi tried to continue speaking, Ranma shot forward and punched the man with all the strength in his body.
A harsh thud, then silence.
And nothing.
Takamichi's shirt remained unruffled, and his face showed only puzzlement.
Ranma's strike hadn't even reached its target, but the unexpected hardness of the impact on nothing had fractured the bones in his right hand. That injury would take days to recover, but Ranma stifled the pain.
What force defended Takamichi? Iron-shirt technique? Aerial shield? Ranma didn't have time to think it, because Takamichi reached for his outstretched arm.
That was another problem he had with Takamichi, besides the man's talking. It was insufferable that Takamichi could stand there basking in his invincibility, when that invincibility came only from using extraordinary abilities, while Ranma had restricted himself to mundane martial skill the whole week despite the daily inconvenience.
Ranma didn't intend to humor such contempt.
When Takamichi grabbed Ranma's right arm, Ranma punched the man in the chest with his left, and did so with more than all the strength in his body.
Force born from Ranma's will flowed through Ranma's left hand, erupting against Takamichi's chest, battering through invisible defenses, and sending Takamichi staggering. Takamichi doubled over from the impact and fell on his knees, hacking up red from internal bleeding.
The crowd's gasps were about as pathetic.
Ranma examined his left hand. It had inflicted more damage than necessary for victory, but he had taken his moment of satisfaction, and now he'd take the consequences.
Takamichi stood up. He could already move, and where normal people should be laying still inside an ambulance, his coughing had already stopped. He wobbled, but he might even be able to fight.
Well, good for Takamichi, but Ranma would have to deal with a broken right hand for quite a lot longer.
With his broken hand, Ranma caught a large rock coming toward his temple. It struck his palm with a slap, and yes it hurt, but not so badly that he couldn't use it. More importantly, what were those delinquents doing, butting in now?
Ranma looked to the side where the rock came from, but the kid who threw it wasn't one of the delinquents. Instead, he had a red shoulder patch. Ranma frowned. What was this supposed to mean? Were the committee members bothered about Ranma hitting Nanoha? Takamichi?
Ten disciplinary committee members had moved toward Ranma and Takamichi while Ranma fought, and they now surged up as an enraged group.
No.
Before they could move forward, Ranma flung the rock back to its origin, and the crack of stone hitting bone left the kid lying on concrete, bleeding from the gash in his head.
The wave of committee members stopped before it started.
Ranma wondered why they intruded on his fight, but before he could think about it, the delinquents who were standing around acted. These twenty weren't rising up against him though; instead, they moved toward everybody, committee and Ranma and Takamichi alike. They probably thought this was a great chance to deal with all their enemies.
Without a glance, Ranma's uninjured left hand met the side of one attacker's head, knocking the kid aside. He looked over at Takamichi, and saw the few attackers nearby on the ground, clutching their sides. The delinquents backed off in favor of easier targets, and even as they slunk away from Ranma and Takamichi, Ranma saw them gleefully turning to stomp the disciplinary committee.
So much for forbidding anyone from fighting. This entire affair was turning into a giant farce, and he still needed force Takamichi away before dealing with it.
Too much distracted musing gave Takamichi time to recover. "What are you thinking?" Takamichi said as he straightened. "The principal will punish you for this. Attacking me to this extent is far more than just a prideful tantrum."
Ranma looked at the man. "Takamichi, you talk too much. If you have the breath, fight. I'm not interested in your blabbing, and what happens afterwards is nothing I'm concerned about."
"I see," said Takamichi. Around them, the disciplinary committee and the delinquent clique continued to beat each other up, just hard enough that they didn't seem to notice Ranma and Takamichi talking. Everybody would focus on them if Takamichi got violent, but Ranma didn't think Takamichi would start anything.
And as Ranma thought that, he heard a click.
What?
Ranma jumped back, but a hard pressure around his left wrist jerked him to a stop mid-jump. He looked down, and saw a bracelet of cold green metal locked around his wrist.
Did Takamichi approach and put it on him, after faking injury and exploiting his distraction? Or did it have some enchantment—
Ranma expected Takamichi's next ranged strike to come and capitalize on his confusion, but when he tried to protect his face, the bracelet stopped his left arm from rising as if it was anchored by an invisible chain to the ground before him. Takamichi's strange attacks were too weak to knock him out even if he didn't block, but over the course of the fight he's probably already bruised in a few places, and sacrificing a hand was better than leaving the face open.
Ranma defended his face with his injured right hand, and ground his teeth together at the sharp pain of impact.
Maybe he should give Takamichi another few punches in the chest.
Even as Takamichi attacked him while wearing that placid face again, Ranma tried to escape. He didn't have time to look at the bracelet closely so he tried to slip his hand out, but the bracelet was like a handcuff, too narrow and sturdy.
He was wrong. He had underestimated Takamichi. Takamichi could escalate the fight just fine, and probably brought this restraint just in case Ranma got out of hand, and that meant everything so far was still within Takamichi's expectations. As long as Takamichi was in control, he'd have no reason to retreat, and to force Takamichi to retreat, Ranma would have to raise the stakes far above what Takamichi expected.
He shouldn't have to resort to this, but Ranma didn't know what would scare the man. He couldn't hope that anyone who saw this would later forget to ask questions. Consequences will come, one way or another. Oh well. If Takamichi brought out tools, Ranma would just have to respond in kind.
Just as Takamichi was about to attack again, Ranma reached with his injured and unrestrained hand into the left sleeve of his uniform jacket. From inside, he pulled out the short, thin steel rod he kept there.
Takamichi saw it and stopped, and not in a general confusion way, either. He stopped cold at Ranma's threat. It was understandable—Mahora was Old Man Konoe's territory, and Ranma was confident that that Konoe's habit of hiding the supernatural from the common people hadn't changed since they first met years ago. Konoe's employees would know not to expose extraordinary abilities in front of the public. Takamichi might justify using attacks no one could see, but what would happen if Ranma threatened to expose both of them?
Obviously, Takamichi would fall back to the bargaining table, because without knowing what Ranma could do, giving up would be more reasonable than continuing—
Takamichi frowned.
—unless, of course, Konoe decided Ranma was too big a danger after how things went that time years ago, and permitted Takamichi to handle Ranma as Takamichi saw fit.
Ah. Well, that wasn't what Ranma wanted, but no matter, he'll deal with it.
As Ranma watched, Takamichi straightened and force flared from his body, blasting the courtyard as invisibly as his other attacks, but with the pressure of a flash flood.
This force was called ki among martial artists, and it had a distinctive presence which living creatures could perceive. How individuals perceived it differed by sensitivity and context: some heard it as a rumble, others felt it as a pressure, and the most focused could see it as a shining glow even if the outburst wasn't strong enough to create a real sound or push or light.
Even animals had some primal sense for ki, and enough of the kids in the courtyard felt it that the fighting ceased instantly.
Takamichi's fighting spirit—his ki—rolled over the crowd, but there wasn't very much to see, as Takamichi drew attention but didn't fully display his power. To the crowd, it might be a smothering blanket of air or a flash of vertigo, but at that speed it was enough to knock the closest observers on their backs.
Ranma felt it as a flicker of displacement, as if his body had moved a step closer to Takamichi than it was.
Takamichi's fighting spirit was tainted with anger, and he looked mighty pissed. The crowd stood in positions stiff with fear and anticipation. Ranma sighed, and rolled up his left sleeve.
Takamichi stepped forw—
Ranma stabbed the rod into the bracelet on his left wrist, then shook the bracelet's unmelted body and the tiny splash of actually red-glowing liquid from his skin. Yes, the burns hurt, but like the rest of his pains, he could ignore them.
Now ready to continue, Ranma extended his arm and pointed the rod's glowing red tip at Takamichi.
"Alright, alright," Takamichi said. "Let's do it your way." He spread his hands in surrender and smiled a little painfully, while the displacement Ranma felt shrank away.
Ranma blinked, and his rod stayed level. "What are you doing?"
"Giving up, of course. Since you feel so strongly about it, I'll leave it alone."
That's—
Ranma searched for the word.
—lame. Even if Takamichi backed down, Ranma couldn't feel good about it, now that everybody was once again viewed the man in bewildered awe. Ranma also knew that he wouldn't escape Konoe's ire just because Takamichi surrendered.
"Of course," said Takamichi, "you'll have to enforce your rules by yourself, since I won't be around to help you."
"I know that," said Ranma. "What game are you playing?"
"No game, but the principal was worried about how to make a strong connection between you and this school, and I think if you're willing to fight this hard for the place you want here, then that should be enough."
The crowd watched the two of them in confusion, and Ranma knew he just got tricked.
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(Posted Wed, 01 Apr 2009 04:02)
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