“Ranma! Wake up!”
“Come on, Pops, let me sleep in,” Ranma muttered sleepily. “Just five more minutes.”
Akane leaned closer to his ear, puckered her lips, and yelled, “you idiot! You’re sleeping in your breakfast!”
“Bux wah!?” Ranma blurbled, lifting his head up from the table. Bits of food flaked off as he rubbed his face awake. “What’s going on?”
“Honestly, Ranma, that’s what I’d like to know. One moment you’re bouncing around the yard like a demented pin ball, the next you’re sleeping like a hog; wallowing in your food. Really, Ranma, it’s, heh, it’s not cute at all.”
“Like you’re one to talk about being uncute,” he muttered.
“Jerk!” she accused softly. “Anyway, what’s with you these days?”
“Nuttin’,” he replied distractedly.
“Then why are you training so hard anyway? That’s not like you.”
“Geeze, Akane, I am going through a growth spurt. I gotta keep my edge. I feel like I'm being watched or somethin’.”
“Paranoid much?” she accused, but glanced warily about. It was Ranma, after all. “Well, anyway, I think you’re over doing it.”
“Meh,” he muttered. “What would you know. You only train to keep in shape.”
“Well,” she attacked, seeing an opening, “you could help me train, you know.”
“Why would I train someone who doesn’t take the art seriously,” he defended, automatically. The morning argument proceeded to gather its usual pace from there.
“Honestly,” Nabiki grumbled as she left the house. “Will those two ever grow up?”
“Nothing around here ever changes,” an amused Kasumi smiled as she turned the radio on and began washing up.
“… Ka–lickon! This is Mikan Uehara, reporting. It has just been hours since the surprise arrival of an unknown aircraft at Tokyo Airport. The vessel’s nationality has yet to be identified, and its design is unlike anything on record. At the start of a special meeting of the national assembly, the government was flooded with questions about the origin and purpose of this strange aircraft. With no answers forthcoming before the press were ejected from chambers, it is suspected that –ka–switchover!– I kissed a girl! And I liked it. The taste of her cherry chap stick. I kissed a girl, just to try it! …”
Kasumi began to hum along to the music. So much better than boring old politics. “Us girls we are so magical. Soft skin, red lips; so kissable! Hard to resist; so touchable…”
The prematurely elder diplomat patted his head down with a tissue as the … vehicle approached its destination. “This is a historic event, Reito–san,” he repeated. “It’s important we make a good impression on our hosts. Please, just …” his eyes flicked to the flight crew, “ah, just don’t do anything. Let me handle the negotiations.”
“Yh hmm,…” Reito sighed agreeably, his eyes smoldering at the aliens, who were dressed rather like airline stewardesses; all crisp starched uniform, jaunty little cap, and polite smiles that warmed under flattering attention. The thoughts racing in the junior–in–rank–only diplomat’s head could all too easily be guessed to involve new records for the Mile High club.
The senior partner dried the perspiration from his forehead and sighed. Reito had likely only been assigned as his assistant because several husbands and fathers in the bureau considered him quite expendable. He just wished they’d thought of the full implication of that before assigning Reito to delicate negotiations with beautiful alien women.
“Oh, don’t fret so much, Maoran,” Reito grinned cockily. “I’ll leave the wheeling and dealing to you and just enjoy the sights.”
That elicited a moan of despair, barely bitten back, as Reito settled back to do so. “Really, Reito–san, your overly casual approach to diplomacy is what keeps you from advancing in the department.”
“Come on, Ranma!” Akane cried, grabbing her fiancée’s hair and dragging him. “We’re going to be late for school.”
“Meh, like I care,” Ranma grunted, snatching his bowl to eat while airborne.
Akane’s brow furrowed as she rocketed out the door with him in tow. “Hey! You should cut back on the intake, Ranma. You’re putting on too much weight!”
“I am not,” Ranma denied. “It’s all muscle. I can’t help if I’m going through a growth spurt. Whatever. Anyway, I burn it off in training.”
“Pick an excuse and stick with it,” Akane huffed, dropping him in a piqué.
“Feh! Who are you to talk?” Ranma counterattacked from the ground. “Aren’t you getting a little chubby in the rear?”
“How rude!” Akane hissed twisting around to inspect her body and reassure herself that there wasn’t the slightest bit of pudge. “You jerk! Girls are sensitive about that!”
She raised her foot to stomp him for the insult and –kashock– found herself across the alley nursing a sore arm, with her hair standing on end for some reason. “Wha…”
“Why, I do so appologise,” a not–so–contrite voice exclaimed. “I was out on patrol –I mean, jogging– when what is the colloquial reference? Ah, ‘I was not looking where I was going’? Please, do allow me to assist you to rise!”
The voice had softened on that last sentence, but was nowhere near Akane. She looked up to see a woman, one arm hidden behind her, offering the other to Ranma. Akane’s eyes narrowed. She rather thought that there was something suspicious about the way the woman was solicitous over Ranma, and not herself. Then too, that outfit was a bit out of place for someone out on a morning jog.
“I’m fine,” Ranma grunted, flipping onto his feet and dusting his back down.
“Oh, are you quite certain, Ranma? Perhaps you should visit the school nurse to be sure. Why, for your own good, I insist.”
“Nah! I’m fine, I tell ya. Its nutting, I…”
“Hey!” Akane shouted as she dashed up. “Who are you, what are you wearing, and how do you know Ranma’s name?”
The woman recoiled, a bit uncertainly, at the rapid fire accusations. “Why, uhm, doesn’t everyone know his name?”
“That’s true!” Ranma swelled proudly. “Heh, he, heh!”
“Idiot,” Akane accused with an elbow jab to the rib to deflate his ego. Turning to the woman she insisted, “so who are you?” Perhaps it was a little rude, she reflected, but whatever had hit her had hurt.
“Why, I am Minerva Hertz, the new physical education instructor,” the purple–haired woman introduced with a curtsey. “Can you not tell by my staff uniform? I am sure I put it on correctly. However, these straps are a little unfamiliar, so maybe…” She began tugging the string and cups of her bikini top. “But the Principal did not complain yesterday, and it is such a quaintly primitive garment. This dried vegetation skirt itches so, but is not that hard to wear. Though I must admit the way it swishes and rustles when I sway my hips is most pleasant. Do you not agree?” She demonstrated to Ranma.
“I should have guessed,” Akane grumbled, and grabbed Ranma’s arm she jerked the jerk away from the hip swaying floozy. “It’s another one of the old coot’s crazy disciplinary schemes.”
“You should not speak so of your superior officers,” Minerva insisted hotly. “Though there had been some mention of… Why, I mean, it is ill mannered to disrespect your authority figures. What kind of influences have you been exposed to, that you would you say such a thing?”
“Hey! You’ve met him, haven’t you?” Akane accused dryly. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice how weird he is?”
“Why, surely it was nothing exceptional,” Minerva pondered. “Aren’t all males a little bit eccentric?”
“…” Akane opened her mouth, doubled her take, then sighed. A quick list scrolled through her thoughts. “Okay, yeah, you do have a point. Maybe. It’s not how I’d put it, but… Whatever! That’s no excuse to let him play dress up with you. Honestly, what were you thinking?”
“Yeah,” Ranma agreed, though missing the point. “Aren’t you cold in that?”
“Not in the slightest,” Minerva disagreed. “The ambient temperature is well within my limits of tolerance.” She leaned forward and pressed her hand against his forehead. “Why, if you feel the cold, I really think you should see the school nurse. At once!”
“Meh! I’m fine,” denied Ranma.
“What ever,” Akane huffed. “Come on, Ranma. We’ve got to get to school.”
“I guess we’ll see you there?” Ranma bade in farewell.
“Why,” Minerva exclaimed, “even better, I shall escort you!”
“There’s no need,” Akane insisted, tugging Ranma’s hand as she charged down the alley.
“Why, it is no bother at all,” Minerva assured Ranma as she kept pace; and effortlessly. “It is my duty to ensure your safety, after all. … As a teacher, that is.”
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(Posted Tue, 03 Mar 2009 07:18)
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