[Episode 256512] [Episode 256512]A smile on his face and a song in his heart, Ranma was bouncing on the heels of his feet as he awaited the elevator ride. He had to admit, it would probably be faster if he used the stairs but he was in way too good a mood to care about further exercising. He’d told off both Nabiki and Kuno, he'd legally graduated from High School thanks to that GED his roommate set up for him... and he now had a nice place to stay at! Away from the craziness that was the Tendo Dojo and Nerima. Why, shoot! Since this place was in Gina’s name, he was pretty sure Nabiki wouldn’t be able to track him down! He... he had a safe haven!
Okay, granted; he had to attend college, keep his grades up, make his own meals—he promised himself to try and create some methods to somehow obtain nourishment from Kasumi...
Wow, these big words were just flying out of him! Hey! Maybe I was always smart but the undue stress of my life hampered my ability to—HOLY SHIT!
With a ding, the elevator opened, allowing some pampered-looking woman out, with her equally pampered dog—a miniature dog shouldn’t be dressed to make it look even more of a target to get its ass kicked—out. As she sniffed in disdain, Ranma promptly let her know how much he appreciated her opinion.
“Why! I never!” she gasped, as Ranma flipped her off.
The pigtailed martial artist snorted. “Well, if you didn’t look down your nose so much, you probably would have seen it more!” he called out as the elevator doors shut.
Oh yeah... he wasn’t going to lie. He really wasn’t the sort that belonged in this high-scale a place. Shoot, he doubted whatever the Tendo Dojo earned in a year could pay off a single month’s rent!
But... thanks to Gina, that’s exactly where he was. He was staying here. True, he might not have much inclination to get to know the neighbors but then again, he really didn’t want to either. This was but a stepping stone to his adult life. He’d learn stuff for Todai, learn from martial artist masters that Gina promised she could get him in touch with, and somehow earn his freedom from the life he lived thus far.
Making his way to the door that was the entrance to his condo he was sharing with the blonde teacher, Ranma reached into his pocket; letting out a sigh of relief he didn't realize he was holding when he grasped the small metal object. Pulling it out, he used the key—yes, his own personal key—to turn the lock just above the doorknob, and then turned the key-hole inside said knob itself.
Pushing the door open, Ranma called out, “I’m home!”
Wow... home. This was his home. He... it really did feel like it was home! He could never remember a time he shouted that whenever he stepped into the Tendo house. Mostly, he arrived arguing with Akane or he used the key to the back-door they gave him...
Probably didn’t help that he was situated in a bare guest room with his old man either... an old man who would fart in his sleep and never fully dry out his panda fur before going to bed.
But the fact was... in spite of his time at the Tendo Dojo... time spent at his mom’s... THIS felt like “home” more than anywhere else he’d been in his life.
In fact, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the moment.
No fathers rushing him, demanding he apologize to Akane for something, or marry someone, or some other excuse...
No angry tomboy stomping towards him for some reason that would end with him either later on having to repair the floor or the ceiling, with the occasional inner and outer wall...
No sneer of a money-hungry cash-vampire, wishing to suck his Yen as if the Apocalypse was the next hour...
...
......
...Okay, he missed Kasumi nearby with some non-tainted or poisonous snacks, but that was about it.
*GURGLE!*
“Great,” he muttered, opening his eyes. “Now I’m hungry.”
“Don’t worry!” he heard a female voice fall from further into the condo. “I have some snacks right here!”
Needless to say, the pigtailed martial artist slammed the door closed behind him and started to kick off his kempo slippers before rushing into the kitchen! “Oh boy, oh boy!” he cheered as he came crashing down into one of the chairs at the table. “Gimme!”
Smiling, the blonde, now feeling MUCH better after her power nap, motioned to her laptop and the numerous papers she’d printed off... she would have had more, but she’d killed the ink cartridges printing off what she did manage. Yes, both tri-color AND black. “Here you go!”
Blinking his eyes curiously, the pigtailed teen took stock of the numerous papers that lay all over the kitchen table. “What’s that big stack of paper for?" he asked curiously. “Is it a menu?” If it was... WOW! Living the adult like was awesome! He’d never go hungry again!
“No, but consider it ‘food for thought’, Ranma,” the woman said calmly, giving him a warm smile, hoping to hold off any apprehension he might feel. “These are the various forms I feel you need to see for yourself, a few of which you need to sign too.”
Ranma looked at the paperwork, to Gina, back to the documentation, and finally to his roommate once more. “That’s lunch?”
Nodding her head, Gina replied, “Yes, it’s ‘lunch’.”
“...Can I at least douse it in ketchup first?”
Gina was beginning to have the sudden feeling that her power nap wasn’t nearly enough. “Do you know what the expression, ‘food for thought’, means?”
Ranma leaned back for a moment, wondering if he was going to need a knife for the stack—it had to taste better than some of the meals he had had in his experience at the Tendo Dojo. “Isn’t that like tuna, perch... fish foods, because of that Optimus-3 stuff?” he asked. He always wondered how an Autobot made food smarter for you but he wasn’t going to argue with a sentient truck.
“...And I now have severe questions about how the Japanese ever passed us in education,” Gina muttered.
Ranma just shrugged. “In my country’s defense, my former school and I were apparently the exceptions that prove a rule.”
Taking a moment to consider that, Gina had to agree, there were ALWAYS exceptions to the rule. And here she was, trying to help him become one of the prime stereotypical candidates. Ugh... even she may have to admit that she had her work cut out for her. Not that she would give up, of course. From what she read, too many people already had on the poor boy, practically from birth! FROM BIRTH! She’d be damned if she gave up on him too, when she was someone who had the resources to bring him back from the educational brink!
“Be that as it may, Ranma, if we’re to get you on the path to intellectual greatness, then we need to make you aware of and/or get rid of the obstacles to that goal!” the blonde scientist motioned to the paperwork before her. “What I have here are numerous accounts of you and your father’s ‘training trip’, all in chronological order from reports filed by people in the area... and while there are a number of accounts over various things... there is something you need to know.” She leaned forward and asked, “Do you know what a written contract is?”
Humming and gnawing on his lower lip for a moment, the raven-haired youth with the strong possibility of becoming the blonde’s next ‘man-candy’ replied, “It’s an agreement, right?”
“Well, yes, but allow me to explain,” the blonde stated in all seriousness. “A written contract is an agreement entered into voluntarily by two parties or more or legal age or via the aide of legal guardian with the intention of creating a legal obligation; natural persons or juristic persons. The traditional remedy for breaching contracts would to make reparations for “damages” or simple monetary compensation. Also, depending on the circumstances of said documentation, another possible out would be based on the failure of specific performance and/or injunction of timing. Either way, breaking a contract awards the party at loss the “benefit of the bargain” or expectation damages, which are greater than mere reliance damages.” The woman narrowed her eyes, her own blue orbs meeting Ranma’s matching cerulean gaze. “This is because a contract is a legally enforceable promise or undertaking that something will or will not occur.”
That made the pigtailed teen wince. “Damn...” he muttered, his ego deflating a little. “So there really is no out?”
Now the woman smirked. “Well, tell me this. Do you remember signing anything outside of—and this is stretching here, mind you—finger painting on a pledge to your mother when you were four-years-old?”
Blinking his eyes once, twice, thrice, Ranma considered that for the longest time. Minutes passed as he really wracked his brain, going over everything he’d suffered under and people who’d come into his life over things his old man did that had fallen on his shoulders. Then he winced as he looked like he’d bitten into a lemon. “Well, there was one time I was a kid and made a promise to the Gambling King...” he perked up considerably as he quickly added, “But that got sorted out with even more gambling! I was a winner, I tell ya! A WINNER!”
Raising her own eyebrow, Gina otherwise kept her own poker face on. Odd. She hadn’t come across that in her search. Obviously it was something that had never been filed or he—surprisingly—really had taken care of it. “Anything else?” the woman inquired, pushing the man-candy to really think.
Finally after nearly another minute of silent contemplation, the heir of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts answered, “...No...” it was surprising how monotone the reply was. “Come to think of it, it’s nearly all been spoken agreement between my old man and other people.”
“And that is precisely the point I wish to make!” the sensual scientist chirruped with a tone of excitement. “What you have been put through, and what I’ve discovered through police reports, is that your father had made verbal contracts: intents expressed through spoken words.”
Ignoring as Ranma curiously mumbled, ‘Police reports?’ the blonde continued to explain. “This is a contract which implies the course of actions over a number of parties. But as an implied contract, it is one in which the circumstances suggest that the involved parties have reached an agreement even though they have not done so expressly. For example, by going to a doctor for treatment, a patient agrees that he will pay a fair price for the service. If he refuses to pay after being treated, he has breached a contract implied in fact. However, that is where the term “verbal contract” is a frequently misused expression: while this sort of contract can be supported by the basis of either fact or law... there are many instances where a verbal contract has no standing whatsoever except intention.” She leaned forward across the table and asked him, “So tell me Ranma. Is there any law passed by the Japanese Diet that specifically states that you HAVE to marry any of these fiancées?”
Ranma shrugged. “No clue, never really was too much into politics,” he replied, shivering. “Just watching a few seconds before I changed the channel made me feel... dirty.”
Gina nodded in understanding. No matter what side of the globe—or inter-dimensional divide—you were on, politics were all the same. Hell, she had even come across one ancient civilization that using a mixture of technology and magic; had created a device to ensure that their politicians were honest and worked for the people.
The civilization soon scattered after—according to the translated glyphs—the damned thing wouldn’t stop killing the applicants.
“Of course,” Ranma muttered, scratching his chin. “With my luck and the sheer amount of people my Old Man and the Old Letch have pissed off, I wouldn’t doubt that there just might be.”
Smirking, the scientist was more than happy to proclaim, “Well, Ranma, fortunately for you, there is not! And trust me, I used the term ‘Ranma Saotome’ in the Japanese Diet’s search engine, and not one instance came up concerning you or your situation!” Left unsaid was that she did find one amendment that actually legalized the use of deadly force of one ‘Genma Saotome’ when it came to self-defense but she didn’t want to bring that up just yet. “Do you realize what that means?”
“...That there’s no law that says I have to marry any of the fiancées?” Ranma asked curiously.
Again, the blonde woman nodded her head. “Precisely. With only a verbal agreement, which without laws already in place, CANNOT be upheld legally in a court of law... means you’ve got nothing to say to your old man or anyone else he’s engaged you to!”
“...Come again?” Ranma asked curiously.
“There’s no honor to satisfy as honor hasn’t been broken by the legal definition,” Gina replied seriously. “Without any writing on paper, without your hanko stamp, or even without a government seal... they’re nothing. You never had to put up with any of the bullshit you have. Sure, there are people that will be angry but your honor was never in any danger. At all.”
Ranma just blinked at that. He... was free? Honor was satisfied?
Oh... Oh, shit! “Um, Gina; can you make a verbal agreement with someone that is say... under the thrall of a magical item that say... flips their personality and feelings one-eighty?” he asked, twiddling his thumbs.
Dear Kami in Heaven... he didn’t want to have his freedom so close... just to have it yanked away by something he did!
Arching an eyebrow, Gina shook her head slowly. “Noo~ooooo...” she drawled out. “Legally, all parties of a contract—even verbal ones that can be enforced—have to be in their right minds and under no coercion.” She tilted her head and inquired, “Why do you ask?”
“NO REASON!” he squeaked. Oh, thank you kami, both good and evil! He wasn’t legally married to Shampoo! Thank you Contrary Jewel! Mental note: don’t do that sort of shit again!
Yes though... it seemed he was free! Free of the engagements! Free of the meddling of his old man! Free of...
...
His old man...
As the pigtailed youth slumped over in his seat, the woman sighed. “What is it now, Ranma?”
“Just because I’m free now, doesn’t mean I will be for long...” the pigtailed martial artist sighed. “Once Pops figures this out, he and old man Tendo will just go and MAKE a contract... and I’ll be back to my honor being dangled above my head...”
Shaking her head, Gina told him, “Impossible.”
That statement made Ranma blink his eyes in shock. “...Impossible?” he asked, a tone of hope evident in a weary voice.
“Ranma, as your mother was more than apt to tell me yesterday, you ARE a legal adult,” Gina stated firmly. “A parent can only make a contract in their child’s name when said child is a minor by legal definition or if the person is incontinent and the parent is awarded further guardianship by the local authorities. Since you are of—I’m assuming—sound mind and body and are of the age of majority... he can do neither ‘jack’ nor ‘shit’ to you anymore. Period. His window of opportunity is closed now and forever barring some accident that leaves you a vegetable.”
Ranma nodded happily, before gulping. Damn you kami, both good and evil! Why do you torment me so! Normally, he’d never mention such a weakness.. but then again, he trusted Gina. And he certainly didn’t want any mess-ups here. “How sound of mind?’ he asked innocently.
Gina just narrowed her eyes. Oh, fuck this! She didn’t have enough sleep in high school for this shit! He is so lucky his butt is so damned cute! “Explain,” she commanded.
Looking over the police reports for a moment, Ranma just slid a book across the table, told her a page number, and waited.
Back at the Tendo Dojo, Genma looked up from the shogi board, feeling as if Death was soon to come for him. “Soun, old buddy, is it Wednesday?”
“No, Saotome,” Soun Tendo replied, having quickly changed several pieces to give him the advantage. “It is Tuesday.”
The portly martial artist release a sigh of relief. “Oh, good! For some reason, I thought my wife was due to visit today!”
Ignorance is bliss... and a ticking time bomb.
Gina twitched as she read over the data. She’d caught the instances of animal theft but hadn’t thought anything about it until Ranma brought it up. But now reading it... “So let me get this straight... when you were six-years-old, your father, one Genma Saotome, tried to teach you in the ways of the ‘Neko-Ken’ aka ‘The Cat Fist’.”
Nodding his head, Ranma replied, “Uh-huh.”
“To do this,” the blonde continued. “He wrapped fish sausages all around you and then and threw you into a pit of starved cats, presumably with the belief that this would imprint the fighting movements and instincts of cats into your psyche.”
Again, the pigtailed youth nodded his head. “Uh-huh...”
The woman frowned. “From there, it would turn out that your father had made a critical mistake as he either not fully read through or simply ignored the technique’s manual, which stated that nobody should be trained in the Neko-Ken as the technique was actually BANNED due to the severe psychological distress it forces on the trainee.”
“Pretty much,” Ranma admitted. “I’m willing to bet simply didn’t read though it. Sure, it was only... what... three pages long, sure... but he IS pretty lazy.”
Gina sighed. "And since the initial training didn’t work with you, he assumed it was because of the fish sausages so he simply repeated the process with raw tuna, dried sardines, salted sardines, fish cakes—”
“Actually,” the raven-haired teen interrupted. “The salted sardines came before the dried ones.”
The woman twitched. “This, however, only exacerbated your growing fear even more, sending you into a state of dementia where you THINK you’re a goddamn cat, making you a danger to people...” she grit her teeth. “And yet despite this, neither you nor your father have sought or attempted to cure you phobia since!?”
Once again, Ranma just shrugged. “Never really came up, but it may have just been Pops not wanting to admit he made a mistake... or the time he told me that just made people want to hug each other and that was just wussy talk...” Ranma pondered. Hell, he kinda knew why he never got it fixed.
Broke.
Nerima.
Both were acceptable answers. Besides, last thing he wanted to do was find out if there was Anything Goes Psychology. He’d already had to deal with a Psychedelic Martial Artist, and he’d rather not have to repeat that experience again.
Grape as a color should taste like it, damn it!
Taking off her glasses, the woman raised a hand and pinched the ridge of her nose between her eyes to try and avert the oncoming migraine. “There is really, REALLY way too much to deal with here...” she admitted. She had wanted man-candy she could build from the ground up but it looked like she was going to have to practically tear out the foundation too because, in the psychological sense, he’d been built of swamp land!
Wincing as the woman who helped him so much was becoming exasperated, Ranma quietly asked, “So that means... there’s no hope?”
“Oh there is... and we’ll make sure that the Neko-Ken doesn’t come up as a problem,” she said in all seriousness. Lowering her hand from her face, the woman then dove her fingers into her purse, pulling out her cell phone. Yes, this may be cheating but she needed a little magic to help in this regard.
“Oh! OH! Oh fuck yes... oh Juliaaa~AH~AAAHHH...” Theo moaned as the woman twisted his nipples with a pair of pliers.
Grinning most evilly, the Armsmaster of Jade currently clad in an outfit borrowed from Miss Anno’s wardrobe—it was really amazing how they had the same figure—told her husband, “Beg for it worm! Beg for it from your Dark Mistress of Pain!”
“AHH! Y-yes, Dark Mistress of Pain!” Theo cried, tugging firmly at the shackles on his ankles and wrists that spread him out via the bed-posts. “More! More I beg you! MORE!”
*RING*!
“...Huh?” asked Julia, as she looked at her husband, who opened his mouth and—
*RING!*
Snapping wide-awake on her side of the bed, Julia grumbled. Always when she was having great dreams. Why did no one ever call when she was having nightmares, or boring dreams, or dreams that made no sense!?
Why was it when she dreamed she could fly, she was always afraid of heights too!?
*RING!*
“...If it is a telemarketer, I will burn them, their job site, and anyone connected to the company, to fine ash, that will be used to curse them into the afterlife, which I shall—”
*RING!*
“COMING!” she bellowed. She couldn’t even properly rant! What was the world coming to!?
“Nnngghh...” Theo mumbled from his side of the bed. “Hoo’zzzit?” he mumbled very sleepily as his wife threw off the covers.
“Someone who better have an emergency or they’re gonna know my righteous womanly wrath!” the redheaded warrior snapped as she firmly grasped the phone—honestly, WHY didn’t they have this thing on a nightstand beside the bed? Oh no, make her actually have to get up and answer the damn thing!
Tearing the phone from its cradle, the irate MiLF raised it to the side of her head and snapped, “WHAT!?”
“...”
“WELL? SPEAK UP!!” Julia roared, making sure that if she had to be up for this, her husband would be too. Why should he get complete uninterrupted sleep while she couldn’t? She brought home the bacon, damn it! Those miniscule gold coins she got paid for holding office were worth their weight in... well... gold in the Earth Realm!
“...Mom?” inquired the tentative female voice that finally answered. “Is this a bad time?”
Relaxing a little—only a little—as this was the one daughter to actually come out of her cooch, Julia continued to speak in a lower but still firm tone of voice. “Gina, it is two in the morning. Why are you calling this late?” Oh it had BETTER be an emergency!
“Oh!” piped in her biological daughter. “I’m sorry, Mom! I completely forgot about the time difference!”
Rolling her eyes, Julia let out a heavy sigh. “Just... just tell me why you called, dear,” Besides, the sooner the call was over with, the sooner she could get back to bed, and vent her frustrations on her husband...
...Or fall asleep thanks to some purloined Ambien she took from a would-be purse-snatcher and then take out her frustrations on The Worm!
“Well, I was wondering if you had ever heard of the Neko-Ken?” Gina asked.
“...Did Britanny try and create her own martial arts style again?” Jula growled. Really, that poor Charlotte still cried from embarrassment after learning all that Britanny taught her wasn’t allowed in any competition.
Good lord, this was gonna be like that Yu-Gi-Oh! Card tournament all over again!
“No, no...” the voice of Gina said calmly over the phone. “This is the sort of Neko-Ken that involves child abuse to the point of schizophrenia and thinking you’re a cat, even allowing martial arts based—”
She never got to finish as Theo was up from the bed like a bolt of lightning. “The Neko-Ken!?” he shouted, obviously wide awake.
Turning to look at her husband, the redheaded warrior of Jade’s Barbarian Clan inquired, “What? You mean to tell me you KNOW of this Neko-Ken?”
“All too well, I’m afraid,” he replied as he held out his hand. With his wife giving him the phone, he brought it to his ear. “Gina?”
“Dad?”
“Listen,” he said firmly. “If someone is in the midst of the Neko-Ken, run! Do not hide, run! Tell us where you are and we’ll be right over to put this menace out of his or her misery... it’s the only humane thing I can do to help this poor child...”
“WHAT!?” came a masculine shout from over the phone that certainly wasn’t Gina. “I AIN’T GONNA LET YOU PUT ME DOWN!! MY LIFE IS ACTUALLY GETTING’ BETTER FOR ONCE!”
Theo blinked his eyes once, twice. “Gina... I thought you said someone was in the Neko-Ken.”
“No,” his daughter’s voice spoke up again, Gina having retrieved the line. “I asked if you knew of the Neko-Ken... which I’m guessing you do. Ranma has been through it and—”
The Arch Mage was quick to interrupt... again. “Wait! You’re with someone who’s BEEN through the Neko-Ken and STILL has human mental faculties?”
“Yes, but what does that—”
“We’ll be right over,” he said firmly, his mage suits already floating out of the closet and flittering about around him as he threw the phone at his wife. He turned to his wife and told her, “Get dressed. We’re heading out.”
Catching the phone deftly, Julia glared at her husband, fighting the instinct to pull out her dream persona. “Theo, do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Honey, it’s five o’clock somewhere,” he muttered in a hurry, tossing several mage suits out of a set of drawers, before nodding at the last one he pulled out.
She so wanted to ask why, as to her, it looked the same as the ones he had tossed out... or were hanging in the closet... or in boxes in the garage...
Mental note: get Theo an appointment to see if he is sane.
Theo chose to either miss or simply choose to ignore his wife’s expression. “Come on, Julia! Up an at ‘em! Get dressed and get armed! Our daughter’s life is in jeopardy!”
Needless to say, THAT got Julia’s attention. “Say what now!?”
“The Neko-Ken is a most dangerous and dark martial art that warps mind and spirit,” the Arch Mage said with utmost seriousness. “Any practitioner forced to follow that path becomes a danger to themselves and others unless properly treated!”
Julia just blinked. “Are you serious?” she asked.
Theo nodded. “There are many legends of whole countries lost, simply because of one deranged berserker stuck within this technique.”
“...Seriously?” came a male voice over the phone.
Theo paused a bit. “Well, maybe not countries in the strictest sense, as most people of the time considered Atlantis to be boondocks of the magical world rather than a country.”
Julia just twitched. “Theo, I don’t have enough caffeine and/or alcohol in me to deal with this, so make sense now, please.”
Staring her in the eye, Theo simplified it as best he could. “Mumsey plus menopause.”
“...Honey, break out the futon, the folks are comin’!”
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(Posted Tue, 27 Nov 2012 05:58)
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