A few hours later it was time for Ranma's second favorite part of school: gym class. Of course, first he had to deal with the lockerroom.
“Yes, I still have my curse,” he growled, “and if you get anywhere near me with that water I'm going to make you wish you were the girl.”
Hiroshi gauged Ranma's expression for a moment with all the intensity of a deer in the headlights. “Fair enough,” he said. He threw the cup of water over his shoulder, away from Ranma.
“HEY!” Daisuke yelped.
Ranma rolled his eyes and got back to changing. It had been like that all day. He hadn't been besieged by so many questions since that bout with Kodachi...was it really less than a year ago? It felt like a lifetime since he had shown up on the Tendo's doorstep and met the world's least cute tomboy. He shook his head out of nostalgia and returned his attention to putting on his shorts. He'd learned from those mistakes. Denying his weirdness just made people ask about it more, so he'd be open about it. He was a werecheetah, and he'd be proud of it.
Minutes later, Ranma, Akane, and Ukyo were just staring at their teacher as he explained that they were going to be running laps around the track.
The three werecheetahs looked at eachother and grinned. “Race ya,” Ranma offered.
“You're on,” Akane answered.
“I'm in,” Ukyo laughed.
The three made a leisurely walk to the track and lined up behind the rest of their classmates. Daisuke looked to Hiroshi, behind them to the three werecats, and back to Hiroshi. “Dive for cover?”
“Good idea,” the other boy agreed.
“Go!” the teacher yelled.
Most of the class went off at a comfortable jog. Hiroshi, Daisuke, and a few others lunged sideways to get out of the martial artsits' way. Ranma, Akane, and Ukyo just stood where they were, looking rather unconcerned with the whole affair.
“I said go,” the teacher huffed.
“How many laps are we making?” Ranma asked.
“As many as you can,” the teacher snapped. “Look just because you brats dyed your hair doesn't mean you can goof off. Get going!”
“Brats?” Akane snarled.
“Dyed?” Ukyo gasped.
Ranma cracked his knuckles. “What's the record anyway?”
“You set it a few months ago,” the teacher grumbled. “Twenty laps.”
Ranma saw that the majority of the class was a quarter of the way through their first lap, with the group that expected to get trampled only a few dozen meters away. “Feels like a good time to set some new records,” he said, stretching his legs out.
“Not at this pace,” the teacher snapped. “I want you at the head of the pack by the fifth lap or you're in for it, Saotome.”
Ranma grinned. “Done.” He took off down the track.
“No fair!” Ukyo yelled, running after him.
“JERK!” Akane howled in hot pursuit.
The teacher twitched slightly. He'd seen martial artists run. They were impressive, but they didn't turn into a blur unless you were looking at them closely. Ranma was a blur on the other side of the track. A golden blur. It was either time to hit the sake or sober up.
Ranma chuckled. He wasn't even breaking a sweat and he knew he was going several times faster than he could have a week ago. He could feel his hybrid legs move, powerful muscles pushing his body forward so hard that by the time his other foot came down he was meters away from his last footprint. His heart hammered in his chest, his lungs filled and emptied in a steady but rapid pattern. His tail swayed in the air behind him, balancing his powerful strides and hurling his weight to maneuver without slowing. And damn, could he dance at this speed. He didn't pass his classmates, he slipped around them. Waiting for them to get out of the way seemed ridiculous at this pace, and swinging out around them was so far out of the way. Why bother, when he knew that all he had to do was push his weight like so and he'd slip around Sayuri by barely a centimeter and be on his way without slowing down at all?
And he could go even faster. But that wasn't a good idea. He could feel the magic in his body. He knew what it felt like to sprint, to run, to jog. His body was sprinting, but his reserves felt the drain of a heavy jog. The enchantments that made him what he was were keeping his stamina up, his temperature down. He could go faster easily, but the magic couldn't keep up. He'd tire, slow, stop, just like a real cheetah. He had his limits.
His heart soared. Pushing those limits would be a challenge worthy of a Saotome.
Ranma wasn't alone in his exultation. Akane was right on his heels, laughing in the wind. Ranma glanced behind him to see her whip around Sayuri twice before racing on. “You need to do better than that to catch me, tomboy!” he teased.
“Ooo, just you wait, tomcat!” Akane growled.
“Don't forget about me!” Ukyo yelled. She ran past both werecheetahs with the same ease they ran around the other students.
Ranma frowned. “Ukyo! Don't wear yourself out too much!”
Ukyo was running too hard to yell back. She knew that was a bad thing. Ultimately there were always diminishing returns as the body was pushed closer to its limit, and Ukyo was feeling the strain of her little stunt eating away at her stamina. Like the tortoise and the hare, she'd have to take a break and her hard won lead would be lost, and then some.
The teacher jumped as the fastest blur ran off the track and resolved into some kind of massive cat woman in girl's gym shorts and top. She didn't quite collapse, but she was panting hard. “Wh wh wha? Who? What?”
“Relax, teach,” a cat man said. The teacher recognized Saotome's pigtail. “It's just Ukyo. C'mon, breathe Ucchan. Let's get you some water.”
“How fast were you running?” the teacher asked warily.
“I dunno,” Ranma said. “I think I made five laps. Ukyo made six or seven.”
The teacher looked at his stopwatch and made some calculations. He twitched. “That's not possible.”
Ranma chuckled. “Haven't heard anyone say that in a long time.”
Ukyo chugged the rest of her bottle and sighed. “Dammit. I didn't know it was going to be that hard.”
Ranma nodded and handed Ukyo a fresh bottle. “Don't feel too bad. Akane and me did the same thing last week. We're born sprinters. You have to get a feel for how fast you can go before you wipe yourself out like this.”
Ukyo took another gulp and looked at the empty bottle. “I don't think I’ve been this thirsty in my life.”
Ranma chuckled. “How did Brit put it? High performance body. You can work it hard but you'll pay for every demand.”
“Good to know,” Ukyo grumbled. “Any other catches you forgot to mention?”
“Probably,” Ranma said. “But I can't think of any.”
Ukyo didn't have a chance to retort before a pineapple landed between them. “Oh crap,” she said instead.
Ranma grabbed the fruit and hurled it away. It exploded safely above the track. He spun in a quick circle. “Where are you?” he growled.
“Hey, you keiki no have da right haircuts! Very very bad!” The one (and hopefully only) Principal Kuno jumped off the roof of the school with a coconut-styled parachute.
Ranma held his head to try and force the migraine from taking root. “Great, now I've fought the whole set,” he grumbled.
Kuno held up a pair of shears and cut his way free of the parachute. “You bad keiki, growing hair all over body very very against da school rules!”
Ukyo got up on her feet but Ranma pushed her back down. “No. You rest.” He looked to the deranged barber. “It's just you and me.”
“Cut cuto,” Kuno cackled, waving his shears menacingly. “You not be takin me with a full head o' hair!”
Ranma tapped into the Soul of Ice and regarded the delusional instructor calmly. “Then I'll take you bald,” he sneered.
“Never!” Kuno yelled as he lunged forward.
Ranma was behind the principal. “What are you lunging at?”
Kuno spun around, his shears making a wide cut to shave Ranma's chest.
But Ranma was behind him again. “Your aim sucks,” he complained.
This little dance continued for some time until Ranma tired of the game. He jumped up in front of the principal and struck the sky. Winds roared and the principal was sucked up by a sudden vacuum.
Ukyo's eyes widened. Ranma had only rarely resorted to the complicated Heavenly Dragon Ascension. And this one was different, compact in a way she had never seen before. “What?”
Ranma watched his handiwork calmly for a moment and took one step to the left before the principal landed where he had been standing. He looked to Ukyo. “I haven't had much chance to experiment with a high speed Hiryu Shoten Ha,” he explained. “It's a lot easier to get the spiral in tight now.” He grinned sheepishly. “Still kinda tiring, though, running in circles fast enough.”
Ukyo chuckled and tossed Ranma her last bottle. “I think you need this more than me.”
Akane jogged over. “What was that?” she asked. She glanced down and saw the principal. “Nevermind. You okay?”
Ranma and Ukyo nodded. “Yeah,” Ranma said. “If we're lucky, the rest of the day will be boring.”
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(Posted Mon, 02 Jul 2012 01:49)
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