Ranma opened his eyes slowly and grumbled. It was a rare morning that he got a chance to wake up slowly, without his father attacking him, and he wanted to make the most of it. He nuzzled back down into his pillow and twitched his tail contentedly. Then he felt something on his wrist.
Genma was upset that his dishonorable son was using his large and heavy cat form to keep him from using the familiar combination of force and leverage to start their morning spar and wasn't about to let him slack off any more. “Wake up!” he bellowed, grabbing his son's forepaw and spinning him laterally out the (open) window.
The pseudodefenestrated lycanthropic feline adolescent landed on his paws and roared a challenge up at his father.
Genma grinned and launched his attack. This wasn't their usual morning banter. This could be interesting.
Akane's eyes opened with tired determination and she pushed herself up into a sitting position. She glanced out the window and twitched a whisker at the sight. Genma trying to fight a cat – Ranma – that was moving so fast Genma looked like he was mired in molasses. She smiled slightly and rested against the windowsill. Everything that was wrong with Ranma was probably Genma's fault, so she enjoyed watching these morning beatdowns. Also it was one of the few times she could watch Ranma without him knowing. Mmm. What was the word Gina had used? Oh yes. Ranma was quite the hunk.
Ranma's grin changed slightly. Not the confident smirk he always wore when playing punish the panda, now he had an audience. He knew better than to let Akane know he knew she liked to watch his fights, but he did so love giving her something to watch. He dug his paws into the dirt and chased down his father. Genma tried to react but he was just too slow. Ranma lowered himself and dove between his father's legs, shifted to hybrid, and kicked upwards into the small of Genma's back. His father ate dirt.
Ranma pushed off the ground, flipped head over heels, and landed on his feet smoothly, lording over the fallen father. “What's the matter, pops? Getting slow in your old age?”
Genma spat out some dirt and looked back at his son, carrying a retort that died on his lips. Ranma had his arms crossed, smirking, his body utterly relaxed. He was as nonchalant as he was when he sparred with Akane...before he took over Akane's training. Genma twitched as he realized that his son was telling him that he warranted less caution than his fiancee. And Ranma's cold smirk made it obvious he knew the message he was sending. Genma's eyes hardened.
Ranma didn't have time to drop into a ready stance. Genma's counterattack was not the outrage fueled flailing that Ranma had expected. Genma was attacking with all the dispassionate precision of a trained martial artist who had control over his rage. This was the Genma Saotome that had conned and charmed his way across Japan and China, that had seduced and betrothed Nadoka, that had invented the Umisenken. Too bad he was still slow.
Ranma vanished from Genma's sight. Genma knew Ranma would flank him and attack before he could adjust to the boy's new angle of attack, so he responded blindly with a sweeping lowkick. It was a move from the Tendo school, which favored a strong ground game, and its counter in the Saotome school, which favored aerial fighting... Ranma jumped well above the kick, setting up for a strike on the way down. Genma calmly grabbed Ranma's foot and hurled him into the koi pond. It didn't matter how fast the werecheetah was, he still fell the same.
Ranma hauled herself out of the pond, growling. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to dry fur, pops?”
Genma raised an eyebrow and took in his son-turned-daughter's new form. A full foot shorter, the shortest hybrid he'd seen and still tall enough to look him in the forehead. She was slimmer, too, not emasculated by any means but her predisposition for speed over power was obvious. Her fur was the same pattern of yellow, white, and brown that her male form had, but crimson highlights invaded every follicle. The water dripping from her in the dawn sun caught those highlights and made it look like she was dripping liquid fire.
She was also mad.
Akane smiled slightly, pushing aside some irritation. Ranma's girlform wasn't hard on the eyes, but she wasn't as interesting to watch as his true body. But the beatdown she was handing Genma was quite amusing. The actual increase in her speed was relatively minor, but Genma could barely keep up with male Ranma. The slightly speedier female form was simply too much. Within fifteen seconds Genma was borderline unconscious, a panda, and sailing above the compound wall into the street.
“Ranma!” Kasumi called. “You should get cleaned up or you'll be late for breakfast!”
Ranma ran inside and headed to the bath. “Thanks, Kasumi!”
Akane considered the merits of 'accidentally' walking in on Ranma after he had time to slip into the furo but decided against it. Best not to get off on the wrong foot today of all days. That in mind, she picked up her own gi. She'd get in a bit of training before her own bath.
An hour later, Akane was tugging at her sleeve, a frown on her face.
“Problem?” Nabiki asked, swinging her bag idly. Furinkan was just a block away; this was a bad time for Akane to be getting cold feet.
Akane glanced up from her uniform. “No...yes...I don't know. I think my uniform shrunk.”
“Kasumi's better than that,” Ranma said.
“And it's not tight, exactly, just...uncomfortable.”
“It'll never fit your hybrid form,” Ranma said. He plucked at his own loose shirt. “I didn't feel comfortable until Kasumi adjusted my shirts for me.”
“Well that's fine for you, but some of us actually follow the dress code,” Akane grumbled.
“I followed the code at my old schools,” Ranma protested. “My girl form would never fit the guy's uniform here. Face it, Akane, we got reasons to dress different.”
Akane grumbled a bit.
Air wooshed and suddenly a fourth person was walking with them. “Hi, Ranchan.”
Nabiki whistled. “How'd you pull that off?”
“I wasn't running that fast,” Ukyo complained.
“Yes you were, but I meant the outfit.”
Ukyo looked over herself. “It's the same outfit I always wear.” Indeed, the blue chef's outfit with the masculine cut, the bandolier of spatulas, and the heavy battle spatula on her back were the only defining features of her outfit. She had her hair back in a hard, tight ponytail that befit a young man with long hair. Even her tail was groomed to avoid fluffing up and looking poofy. Oh, and she was over seven feet tall, furred, with a tail. But that wasn't so important.
“Konatsu?” Ranma asked.
“I swear, that boy could give Kasumi a run for her money in feminine skills,” Ukyo muttered.
“Um,” Akane asked, “how did you keep your, um, that is, you still look like a boy?”
Ukyo quashed a grin at the prudish Tendo's embarrassment. “Turns out you were right about the muscle training. I'm a lot slimmer than either of you. And I have a lot of experience masking my figure. It's all in the walk. See?” She took a few steps, exaggerating her strut. It looked ridiculous. Then she changed again, and she looked like a girl wearing men's clothes. Then the illusion was nearly flawless again.
“Wow,” Akane said. Nabiki and Ranma just nodded; both had known that part of Ukyo's boy act for a while.
“Anyway, Ukyo,” Nabiki cautioned, “you should probably change to human if you don't want to be mobbed.”
Ukyo pouted but let her form collapse in on itself. She adjusted her outfit for a moment and looked just like the same old Ukyo, just with blonde spotted hair.
Akane wowed at the sight. “How did you pull that off?” she asked.
Ukyo grinned. “Same experience. I'll give you some tips after school.”
“Speaking of which,” Nabiki said, attracting everyone's attention to where they were walking. They turned the corner and there before them was Furinkan High School.
And their welcoming party.
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(Posted Sun, 17 Jun 2012 04:57)
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