Ah My Goddess Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of Two Wallets ❯ Survivor High School ( Chapter 52 )

A Tale of Two Wallets

(An Altered Destiny)

Written by Jim Robert Bader

Proofread by Shiva Barnwell

"C'mon, Ranma, we're your friends, you can tell us!" insisted Daisuke in pleading tones to the unbending Saotome.

"Uh-uh," Ranma said as he continued to slouch back in his chair with feet atop the desk, ignoring the dirty looks the teacher was sending in his direction, "No way, you guys, I'm not tellin'."

"Some friend you are!" Hiroshi complained, glancing at Shampoo, who sat at her desk with her chin on her hands, elbows on her own desk, before whispering at a conspiratorial level, "At least tell us why this babe was with you and Nabiki when you got to class. She is such a hot number…"

Ranma glared at the other boy in clear annoyance but only said, "Ya wanna know about Shampoo, go ahead and ask her, but I warn ya, you'd better be polite."

"Hey," Daisuke winced, "We don't mean any harm, there's no reason for you to threaten us…"

"Who's threatenin' you guys?" Ranma huffed, "I'm just tellin' ya that it'd be a bad idea if you upset Shampoo, 'cause she's an Amazon from China, and if you look at her funny she'll rip your arms out of their sockets."

That threat gave pause to both of the hormonally overendowed youths, but only for a second before they turned their glances away from the purple haired lovely back to their nominal "buddy" as Hiroshi asked, "So…what's the deal between you two? Don't tell me you're planning to have both her and Nabiki?"

"Man, this sucks!" Daisuke complained, "It's not fair that you've got two such hot babes all to yourself, Ranma! It's not fair to the rest of us…"

"Hey, it ain't my fault if you guys can't find dates on your own," Ranma snorted, "And it ain't that big a deal neither…"

"Maybe not for you," Hiroshi said, "You have to beat them off with a stick, Saotome…"

"Try something larger," Ranma sniffed, "A stick definitely won't cut it."

"So, what is the deal?" Hiroshi persisted, "Are you dating this Amazon cutie, and what does Nabiki have to say about it?"

"Probably charges him for it," Daisuke sniffed, "Knowing her, she probably rents you out by the hour, Saotome."

Ranma was about to say something angry about the implied slight against Nabiki when he took note of several interested looks being turned his way by the female half of the classroom. Much to his horror, so did Shampoo, and he inwardly winced inside, grateful that Nabiki was not the sort of girl who would rent him by the hour! As it was, he knew he had to say something fast or risk getting beaned on the head by a bonbori.

"Look guys," Ranma said as he sat up and turned to glare at them directly, "You wanna know what it takes to get women interested? Don't try so hard, it turns 'em off. Find a girl who likes you, and if she wants you to hang around with her, that's cool, otherwise don't bother them 'cause you're just wastin' their time and your own, okay?"

Hiroshi and Daisuke gave Ranma the sort of quizzical looks you might give someone who had just grown a second head, then they exchanged equally puzzled looks before turning back as Daisuke asked, "Since when did you become such an expert about women?"

"Huh?" Ranma blinked, "I'm not no expert! I just know what girls like, and it ain't a guy who tries to force himself on her or draw attention to himself doing weird stuff. Girls like it better if you let 'em be themselves and don't try to smother 'em with affection. Ya wanna get anywhere with girls, you gotta treat 'em nice, like they really matter to you as people."

"He's so right," murmured Sayuri, who was near enough to overhear this.

"He's so sensitive," Yuka agreed, "And handsome. I wish that he could be my boyfriend!"

"Give me a break," Akane grumbled, "Him? You have got to be kidding!"

"It's just like Ranma to brag about himself like that," grumbled Ryoga, only to react in surprise as he found himself the sudden focus of attention.

"Brag?" Sayuri asked, "What about?"

"You don't suppose…" Yuka turned with a stricken expression, her eyes full upon the purple-haired girl sitting near to Ranma.

A student next to her gave a quizzical look Ranma's way and said, "You know…now that you mention it, Ranma does seem a lot more relaxed than usual, and he's not even shy about having that new girl give him those lovey-dovey glances."

"Yeah," another student said in disgust, "It's almost like she's worshipping the ground he walks on, and the way he's been strutting like a tom-cat…you don't think he and that other girl…?"

"Hey, could you blame him?" a male student asked, "Did you get a load of those hooters?"

"Saotome, you cad!" another boy growled, "How could you do that to your iinazuke, Nabiki?"

"Maybe one girl isn't enough for him," a third complained in jealous spite, "Maybe he wants to play the field, try other girls out until he finds one he really likes…"

This brought on a renewed exchange of acid commentary, but instead of leading to more sour looks directed at Ranma, it caused many of the girls in their class to eye him with increasing interest.

Shampoo could not help noticing this, of course, and inwardly sighed, not blaming Ranma as she knew what a prize her husband was. If anything it was only to be expected that other women would take an interest, and before too long Shampoo would have to defend her territorial rights to her husband against any or all challenges, should any warrior present be bold enough to test her!

"So, what about it, Saotome?" Daisuke asked, "Did you and this other girl…you know?"

"Huh?" Ranma flushed crimson and growled, "That ain't none of your business!"

"That wasn't a denial, Ranma," Hiroshi said, "You did it with her, admit it!"

"I don't gotta admit nothin' to you guys!" Ranma said in a fluster, "An' where do you get off askin' embarrassin' stuff like that in front of Shampoo…?"

"Saotome-san!" the teacher had finally had enough, "If you are going to announce to the whole class what you did on your own time…"

"It ain't like that, Sensei!" Ranma sputtered, glaring at his companions, "And I ain't no pervert neither!"

"So you say," Hiroshi snorted.

"Can you believe the nerve of this guy," Sayuri turned to Akane, "Cheating with that bimbo on your sister!"

"Would you cut it out," Akane winced, "He wasn't cheating on her…at least I don't think…"

"You mean you know something?" Yuka all but pounded on his fact, "Tell us, Akane, is it true about Ranma and that Shampoo?"

"Shampoo?" another girl snorted, "What kind of a name is that?"

"I think it means Coral, doesn't it?" asked another girl beside the speaker.

Gosunkugi glowered at his desk as he kept his own private counsel, but aloud he murmured, "Curse you, Saotome…first Akane, then Nabiki, and now this Shampoo…?"

Just as it seemed as if the whole classroom was about to erupt into a riot, the speakers announced that Principal Kuno was calling a mandatory meeting in the gymnasium, with all faculty and students required to be in attendance. Where he stood their teacher winced to himself as he knew that something sinister was in the works, thanks to the private lecture the principal had given them all bright and early that morning. The idea was ludicrous and it made him wish that he'd retired before it came to this, but he was years away from receiving his pension, and Kyoko would be very angry with Godai if he quit his job after only teaching for one whole semester!

Ranma had mixed feelings himself as he rose to his feet in one fluid motion, thinking the term "saved by the bell" did not begin to cover his situation. He was concerned that the new principal was going to force them all to sit through a boring pep rally, one that no doubt would be as insane and pointless as his attack early that morning, but he wasn't about to quibble over anything that would allow him to change the subject.

But the other students just would not let the matter be, and Hiroshi even got bold enough to step into Ranma's path as he demanded, "Just a second, Ranma…you're not leaving here until you answer the question, did you and this girl have sex together?"

Ranma was fed up with being pestered, but he could not bring himself to strike the other boy, who was so weak and pathetic that a single punch might actually hurt him. Instead Ranma glared at Hiroshi and growled in a low voice of menace, "I'm only gonna say this once, so everybody listen to me nice and good, see?"

Convinced that everyone around and behind him was paying full attention, Ranma shot his fist out to the side and struck the nearest section of wall, shattering the bricks there with enough force to gouge out a small fruit-bowl-sized crater. Convinced this would be sufficient to impress his point on the others, he pushed on by the speechless Hiroshi. All the other students turned to study the big hole he had created, then they eyes collectively followed him as he and Shampoo made their exit together.

After thirty seconds had elapsed, though, Daisuke lightened the mood by saying, "Guess that confirms it."

"Yep," another boy said, "Those two are definitely sleeping together."

"Kami-sama, that guy is so lucky!"

"HE's lucky?" a girl beside him asked, "I wish I was in her place!"

"Me too!" the one next to her sighed, as did most of the other girls present, excluding several, most notably Akane.

"I don't believe this," Akane glowered as she pushed on by her friends and fellow classmates.

"Ranma," Ryoga snorted as he dutifully followed her out into the hallway, the two of them quite unaware of a third set of eyes that was tracking their movement…

Shampoo's Diary Resumes:

Great Grandmother has often said that public school is a waste of time and effort, merely an attempt at warehousing students on one of those factory assembly lines that you find in some of the larger cities in China. She believes that the only valid education is a one-on-one tutoring of the teacher working with student in order to personally shape them individually through the apprenticeship system that has prevailed with the Amazons since our earliest recollection. Great Grandmother believes that no real trials or challenges can be obtained at state-sponsored schools since the people teaching the students are nor elders but themselves barely educated children. Much of life, she insists, is wasted having to un-learn most of the nonsense that is learned in a classroom and that a warrior is better off not burdening themselves with such shoddy and inaccurate teachings in the first place.

Of course my experiences of this day have led me to believe that what great grandmother has been telling me is not entirely accurate. Public school can provide many formidable challenges, some of which can test even a seasoned warrior in ways that are most surprising.

So it was that I followed my husband and the rest of the students into the large building with a wooden floor and seats that were elevated in rows that I heard were called "bleachers," (for what reason I cannot fathom since my sensitive nose could only detect the faintest whiff of bleach, mainly coming from the floor itself) and we found the principal waiting there on a raised stand that I hard called a podium. We found Nabiki and sat with her, while two of my wife's loyal retainers sat dutifully behind her in the matter of watchful guardians (even though I rate them very poorly as fighters). I heard my wife and husband exchange quizzical remarks but neither one knew what this was all about, so I held my counsel and decided to study the peculiar man who had attacked us earlier with barber sheers, hoping to obtain some clue as to his motives and intentions.

As we sat together I heard the murmured commentary concerning us increase in volume, which puzzled me no less than if the people of my village were gossiping about my choice of life-mates. That these people regarded me as the outsider was not so strange as their whispered comments regarding my looks, the color of my hair and the size of my breasts, which some of these students mentioned by a variety of odd names, most of which I had never heard before and could only guess at by the direction of their glances.

I am not unduly surprised to learn that some people believe my hair has been artificially dyed when in fact it is natural for me. Since following Ranma into the outside world I have learned that the vast majority of people have dark or black hair, with a few odd shades of brown or yellow making up the rest. I have even heard one shade described as red that look more to me like a variety of orange shades that range from dark gold to burnt cienna. Only a few come close to the bright cherry red hair of at least one of my natural sisters, and far too many of those are the result of hair dyes. I have only encountered one or two persons in my travels who have hair that is near to mine in color and shading, one of them being that nice Juraian princess that we met during our skiing adventure.

I think these people fail to understand that the culture of China does not encourage one to stand out in a crowd, so that dying one's hair would be scandalous under most circumstances. I am told that there was a time when those Amazons who have unusual haircolor, such as my late grandmother, did choose to dye their hair black so as not to attract notice during the horror that was once called the "Cultural Revolution," but this is an exception to the general rule, and I have never had to dye my hair that way, any more than my mother.

We Amazons are accepting of unusual hair coloring, believing it signifies the favor of the gods, and my family line has far more exotic colorings than almost any other family of the Nyanchiczu. I am proud of my hair's coloration and believe it grants me an air of distinction, as if has for my mother. That I would ever be forced to cut or dye it is anathema to me, so I found these comments mildly irritating. But of course, compared with the comments leveled at my breasts these are merely light jibes, where the other kind borders on angry resentment or outright drooling. I am puzzled on that score, but the Japanese do seem to have all sorts of odd standards.

I am aware that my breasts are of unusual size and firmness, but while I feel justified in my pride at my good looks I feel that I can take very little credit for this fact and must pass it off to the good fortune that I have had in my ancestors. My mother, for example, has much larger breasts than I have, no doubt the result of childbirthing, which gives me hope that my own will attain a similar size when I have daughters of my own to look after. To be certain, I have needed special training from Great Grandmother in how to keep my breasts firm through the proper exercise and diet so they do not wind up sagging like those of an old woman, to say nothing of avoiding back problems from the way my enlarged breasts have forced me to adjust my posture. I am as surprised as any at the way they have ripened and matured during the past year or so, but they say that large breasts is a sign of a big heart, so I am happy that mine reflect the great love I have to bear for my two airen. Certainly Nabiki's are of a size just right for me to play with, and that goes doubly for Ranma in his cursed form! I am so fortunate indeed to know the love of such beautiful and well-endowed airen.

I suppose I will have to accommodate myself to the fact that other women cannot commit with me on an even plateau, but life is not always fair to others, as I well know from the experiences of my childhood. A pity, though, that the women at Furinkan High School do not seem to boast fighting spirits to match their angry resentments because I was expecting at least one or two of them to issue challenge at some time during the day. I am not certain I like some of the comments I heard directed towards me and would have welcomed the excuse to teach them the folly of insulting an Amazon. Of course I had to promise my airen that I would be well behaved on my first day of class, so I will have to bide my time and seek an appropriate way of getting even.

If only I understood more Japanese terms, like that word I hear so often directed at me, bimbo. I am similarly confused at the reference term for "Hooters," and why did one student compare me to some place called "Silicone Valley?"

Ah well, this is quite off the subject of today's exciting events. As I said, we were all sitting down in the bleachers as the principal gave a speech, using his appallingly bad accent to announce to us that he was establishing a new school dress policy regarding the length of hair for all students. He had his angry and resentful son there, glaring at his father as though he wanted to take his head and use it for that game that I've heard about called soccer. He refused to honor his father's request to join him on the stage and instead glared more hatefully than ever, though I was not to fully understand why he felt this way until much later.

The principal kept using terms like "Keiki" to describe the girls and "Brudda" for the boys, he then had the stage lights dimmed as some teachers assistants wheeled in a pair of figures that were mounted upon wooden stands. When the light came on again we all experienced a collective gasp, me no less than anyone, for the two being displayed tied to poles were none other than Akane and stupid-pig-boy Ryoga!

The principal then waved a hand indicating the semi-conscious Ryoga, whose absence I had not really taken note of until then as I had assumed that he and Akane were following us out into the hallway. They must have been ambushed along the way and roped into being used as examples of the new hair style, for Akane's hair had been cut much shorter than even her usual short length with her hair trimmed around the level of her ears, making her look much worse than ever I remember!

I heard Ranma and Nabiki both gasp, and then all three of us were on our feet, along with the rest of the student body. The general consensus was that the new hair standard was unacceptable to everyone, and the demand that the principal rescind his new policy was nearly universal. Some students were even throwing food at the stage, though very few had the strength of arm or the accuracy to reach Kuno's father. The noise did, however, appear to revive his two nominal victims, for Akane cried in outrage as she found herself mounted like a scarecrow, while Ryoga took his situation no better, and by mutual consent they proceeded to tear loose from their bonds, which were far too weak to hold either one of them captive.

The principal seemed to recognize that he was in immanent danger of a riot, to say nothing of a severe beating from the two whom he had grossly offended, but rather than show concern he pressed a hidden section of the podium that caused the bleachers to suddenly fold inward beneath our feet. I reacted with no less surprise than my airen or the rest of the student body as we found ourselves sliding forward without purchase to afford us traction. Not only were we moving downward, but the entire section of floor at the base of the bleachers opened up to reveal a trapdoor, so as a single wave all the students joined us in a massive tumble as we slid into the dark cavity and traveled for what must have been three floors, only to find ourselves in a large chamber located directly beneath the gymnasium. It was with no small effort that we fought to extricate ourselves from what my wife later termed a "dog pile" as we landed in a heap on a sandy surface that provided some cushioning from our otherwise rude landing.

After we shook the sand out of our hair and persons we glanced around in mutual surprise and found ourselves inside a lighted chamber that appeared to have been designed to resemble an outdoor setting. The sand we stood upon was formed like a beach surrounded by a huge body of water that must have consisted of millions of gallons of water. There were palm trees and tropical bushes forming an artificial landscape that added to the effect of this strange setting, whereas the walls and ceiling had been painted blue to resemble sky with a single overhead lighting source almost as bright as the sun. There was even a passable wind that must have been generated by hidden means to give added effect to the illusion, so that if one did not know the difference they could easily imagine themselves as being inside what I heard described as "a picture postcard setting."

Of course it was plainly artificial and false even to my reckoning, but the heat was convincing enough that we were no longer experiencing conditions of late winter. Many students loosened the buttons on their shirts or blouses, and a few even removed unnecessary clothing in order to establish a level of some comfort. I merely adjusted my breathing and assumed a meditative state of mind that would allow me to slow my pulse and better regulate temperature throughout my body. I was glad for several reasons not to have landed in the water as my cursed form's fur coat would have made the heat more unbearable. As it was I was seriously considering going naked but for the modesty these Japanese seem to think of as "moral" standards.

"I don't believe this!" I heard my husband state aloud as we sought to make sense of our surroundings, "What the heck does that jerk think he's doing?"

"I'm more worried about who paid to build this place," my wife noted practically, "Can you imagine how many million-strike that-billion yen it would cost to build something like this directly under our high school?"

"Yeah, well, when you're a crazy millionaire who makes his money on drugs I guess you can do anything," my husband reasoned, "I just wonder what he's up to…seems like a lotta trouble to go to just to try and impress us."

All at once we heard two voices raised in matching yells and glanced up in time to see Akane and Ryoga falling from the same gap in the ceiling through which we had tumbled. From the angle of their fall I have expected them to land in the water, but they just missed the edge of the artificial shoreline, which is a good thing since their curses would have thus been revealed to their mutual shame before the rest of these students. Once they got to their feet and joined the rest of us the gap sealed itself behind them, leaving very little trace of the aperture to spoil the effect of our tropic island setting.

"Akane?" my wife asked once she had joined us, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine!" she declared with a typical display of her temper, which reassured us that she was, indeed, feeling perfectly normal, "It's that jerk you should be worried about! Just look at my hair! When I get my hands on him…!"

"You and me both, Akane," Ryoga averred with his fists clenched in anger.

"Swell," my husband looked around, "Only how do we get our hands on that jerk? This place looks huge, and I don't see a way off of this island."

"I can tell you the way off of here," a voice surprised us as we all turned to find the sullen Kuno Tatewaki standing there in his usual robing, only absent his wooden weapon, which I reasoned he had concealed upon his person.

"Kuno-chan?" my wife asked in what was usually a teasing reference to the dark haired boy, but this time sounded like a sincere entreaty.

"I know how to get off of here," he said in tones of studied indifference, "But I warn you, it won't be that easy."

"Spill it, Kuno," my husband demanded, "What's your crazy old man hoping to achieve by doing all this? Kidnapping the entire student body…"

"He is not my 'old man,' Saotome," Kuno glared back at my husband, "I want nothing to do with that madman! Kindly refrain from sullying the noble House of Kuno by associating us with that…lunatic with the barber's sheers!"

The other students standing around with us all turned immediate questioning commentary towards the poetry spouting fool, (whom, I will admit, was spouting no poetry at the moment and if anything seemed unusually lucid…for a Kuno, that is) petitioning him to know if he was in truth the son of the principal, to which he steadfastly denied this very fact that he had confessed to us not one hour before this!

"I said away!" he made a dramatic gesture with his arms, storming off a short distance to remove himself from the hundreds of fellow students that were with us, "Kuno Tatewaki does not know or acknowledge the one who claims to be a Kuno! Whoever that is, he darkens my father's memory by his very existence, but he shall soon know the righteous wrath of the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High for daring such an impostiture! I shall smite him back to the oblivion from whence he first came and…"

"Yo there, Bruddas and Keikis!" a voice called out to us, "Welcome ta Kuno Island where da big Kahuna is gonna give you Bruddas a taste O' discipline fo dis Cabana!"

"Where the hell is he?" demanded Ranma.

"Somewhere close by, I think," Nabiki glanced around, "He's using a PA system, but I think I hear a slight echo effect, so he can't be addressing us from a separate chamber."

I was about to voice my own observation over the likely whereabouts of the missing Principal when all at once forms came rushing out from the bushes, animals by the impression one got at first glance until you realized that they were actually people dressed up in animal costumes attacking us with barber sheers. Some students cried out in panic, a few fought back to ward off this attempt on their hair follicles. I noted that one attacker was bearing down on one of my wife's retainers, the one whose long brown hair I had always thought very attractive…Ryonami, I think her name is…and I reacted by producing one of my bonbori and using it to dispatch her would-be assailant.

Ranma and his brother tore into two of the attackers who had strayed too near our position. Akane did likewise, taking on a fellow who wore a suit that I think was supposed to make him look like an oversized monkey. Nabiki held back and allowed me to protect her as I like her hair the way it is and do not desire to see it any shorter. In short order we and the rest of the students overcame out attackers and ripped away their costumes to reveal that they were in fact Furinkan teachers, many of whom appeared as chagrined by what they were doing as the students themselves. Once our collective surprise was over and we had subdued the last of the teachers my apprentice stepped forward and confronted our own homeroom teacher, demanding what he and the others were doing there, to which they all looked down in contrition and reluctantly admitted that they had been forced to participate by Principal Kuno.

"So, where is he?" Ryoga asked.

"Good question," Ranma turned to glare in a certain direction, which I had already marked through my own means of detection.

"We need to force him into the open so we can find out what he's really up to," Nabiki surmised, to which I merely smiled and threw my bonbori, aiming at a certain dark point that I had spotted in one of the palm trees. I am pleased to say that my aim was as flawless as Great Grandmother always insisted I be, for what fell from the palm tree next was not a coconut but Principal Kuno!

Continued

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