Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Jedi Knight 1/2 ❯ Master and Pupil plus a pig and okonomiyaki. ( Chapter 2 )

Jedi Knight 1/2

 

Disclaimer: Ranma and Star Wars belong to someone else not me. Satisfied!?

 

Chapter 2: Master and Pupil plus a pig and okonomiyaki.

 

"Master Yoda, where are you from?"

 

For those unused to Nerima, the sight of a young man running along the power lines with a huge, stone filled pack upon his back, flipping and cart wheeling as he ran, would have been unusual.

 

Here, it was just obvious that Ranma was coming back from a training trip, having recently learned a technique.

 

"Here or there matters not, told you I did. My home was destroyed, return I cannot. To be a Jedi, accept you must what cannot be changed." A ghostly image spoke from within the rock filled pack.

 

After two months of listening to this little creature and its profound statements Ranma had built up a great deal of trust for its advice, even though it went against a lifetime of teaching.

 

Yoda's image sighed, shaking his head. "Once more your thoughts return to your father, and his ways. Become like him you will, if follow him you continue."

 

Ranma's hair stood on end. Even after two months of hearing that it still put a chill down his back every time his new teacher repeated it. As usual, the gender challenged martial artist had picked up those techniques Yoda taught in record time, all that his new master had been willing to pass on to him as yet, anyway.

 

The mental stuff was taking a lot longer to get right, but Ranma had sworn he would master them all the same, and Yoda had promised him greater techniques once he did!

 

"Mind your steps!" The Jedi Master brought his student back to the present. "That path you shall not take."

 

"But I was just going back to the dojo. You said once I got that Force-blast thing mastered that we'd return to Nerima."

 

"Nerima this is, yet that way you shall not go. Another path you must take."

 

"But pops, and the honor agreement." A month ago he would've shouted or sworn, but he was past that now. "How am I to..."

 

The young man got cut off by an irate little master. "Honor? Hmph! What knows he about honor? Shows it does he? Displays it in his actions? Hmph! Speaks much he does, yet nothing understands. Many fiancées do you have. Stay with another. Choose for now you will which one to favor. The choice, final, needs to be not."

 

"Ain't I gunna spar with pops?"

 

"For eight hundred years have I trained Jedi. My own counsel will I keep on how you are to be trained! You are reckless, yet proud also. Much worse, this pride, a great weakness for your mind. Many times your enemies, advantage of this have they taken. Humility I must teach, if this flaw is to be corrected."

 

Ranma stood there scratching his head. It was not like they'd not had this discussion earlier on their training trip. In fact, many, many times. But at last something was sinking in.

 

Yoda, sensing this, seized the opportunity to elaborate and reinforce this new insight for his padawan's sake. "Trained you, your father did. Your body, great strength he gave. You mind, much weakness did he impart. This he did for his own sake, not for your benefit."

 

"Hey! Pops wasn't gunna make me dumb or nuthin! Sure, alot of what he did was stupid, but I'm the best!"

 

"Oh!" Yoda's eyes widened and his ears lifted. "Smart, your father is?"

 

Ranma paused in shock. "What are you talkin about! That moron? He's an idiot! He couldn't count to ten on both hands!"

 

The little master's gentle smile was triumphant. "What know you that your father has not taught? Hm? Techniques mean I not. Knowledge of other sorts, I ask about."

 

The teenaged martial artist froze white from his shoes to the top of his head.

 

"Yes!" Yoda agreed. "At last you listen. Despised he did others' wisdom, taught you to value them not. Shunned you did, at his insistence, all others words and your experience to follow his counsel. But what knows he? Hm? Cannot pass on that which he has not. What could he teach, about how to think, avoid trouble or solve problems? Hm? What does he impart, but his own idiocy?"

 

If strangers had looked upon them they could have seen Ranma's jaw drop to street level from his perch over twenty feet up.

 

Pouncing on this moment of revelation, Yoda added, "Who the most foolish is, the fool who leads or the fool who follows? Hm? A blind guide marked your path since your youth. Eyes you must open, a larger world to see."

 

The Jedi master sighed as he sensed his virtually comatose student at last accept what had been hardest so far to teach, that his father had nothing further to impart, and it was time to move beyond and overcome his dependence on him.

 

'A great victory this was. That man, an anchor he did not need. Ever pulling downward he was.'

 

Not for the last time the recording wished that it was real so that it could pat his student's shoulder, offering calm reassurance when words could not reach him.

 

The sun was beginning to set when at last Ranma recovered his senses from his life altering realization. Yoda's voice was soft, not interrupting. "Come. Go we must."

 

"Right." Ranma began leaping, canceling out his and his pack's weight not to strain any wires as he hopped forward when he heard a yell he didn't want to hear at this point in time.

 

"Ranma, prepare to die!!!"

 

The Nerima padawan swiveled around quickly and brought up a hand. Once he did, the descending Ryoga froze midair, unable to complete his leap and land. The Lost Boy's eyes started to grow wide as he found himself helpless in the midst of an assault, flailing about and flapping his limbs in a vain attempt to go somewhere, anywhere but hang still in midair as a sitting duck.

 

"Ryoga, I will not be held responsible for your faults anymore. You will tell Akane of your curse or I will. You will stop shouting death threats or we will fight til the death. However much you dislike your life, I will not be blamed for it any more. Seek your own solutions. Stop trying to pretend that I am your only problem. If that was truly the case, you could've walked away and had a happy life without me. So even if I cause you nothing but misery, it is your own fault for hanging around. Get a life and stop trying to ruin mine."

 

During this monologue the Lost Boy had been steadily lowered until his feet touched the ground at Ranma's last word.

 

Dismissing everything that had been said in fine Nerima style, Ryoga charged at his rival the second he could stand, fist pulled back and eyes blazing. "RANMA!! YOU WILL NOT TELL AKANE I'M P-CHAN!! DIIIIIIIEEEEE!!!!!!!!!"

 

Fizz. Slash. Snap.

 

"AAAAAAAGGHHH!! Aiiieeeee!!" Ryoga stared at the stump where his right arm had been, now cut off clean at the shoulder. Strangely, there was no blood, only pain, and all he'd seen was a flash of light!

 

"Ranma! How DARE you use a cutting attack in a fight between men! You got your chi attack to add a cutting edge didn't you? YOU COWARD!! I will learn how you did that and beat you!"

 

"Feh, like you're one to talk, flinging about those Iron Cloth bandanas of yours around a pack of innocent bystanders, charging about with that chi-charged belt o yours, an that umbrella. You got the gall ta say that I'M the one that brought cutting attacks into our fights? But you forget, P-Chan. I told ya the next time ya attacked me shouting death threats one o us would die. Now shut up and fight!"

 

Ranma charged and there was another blue flash of light. Ryoga, never too cognizant of the consequences of his actions, or at best lame on thinking things through at last realized that he had somehow brought upon himself the wrath of a Ranma who had already maimed and was prepared to kill!

 

Finally waking up to the fact that he wasn't going to be picking his arm back up and have Ranma tell him that it was all a joke, sudden panic seized the Lost Boy and he just barely dodged that strike. The first had proved beyond all doubt that his toughness training was absolutely useless.

 

But he didn't quite get away in time. In this type of fight speed was everything, not even a panic stricken adrenalin rush could compensate for Ranma's advantage in that area.

 

Ranma's slash had been a beheading cut, aimed at the throat. Ryoga's style had never emphasized dodges, only resilience, and he caught part of that attack across the face, losing one eye and an ear while gaining a deep gash through his cheek that would mark him forever.

 

Hibiki's life was spared from a third and finishing blow as he blindly stumbled into a nearby alley and got lost in the fraction of a heartbeat that it took Ranma to follow him and find the brick lined gap empty of all but the wind.

 

"That one is strong in the Dark Side of the Force." Yoda's image whispered sadly, flickering back into the visible spectrum, having vanished on sensing the imminent attack. "An agent of evil he is, like your father."

 

The little person sighed. "Before, torture, pain and humiliation he sought. Cause them he did to forget his own; for a brief moment be released of his own self-hate. Now if he could beat you, kill you he would."

 

"Did I do right, Master Yoda?" The suddenly apprehensive teen asked.

 

Yoda pondered a moment before meeting his student's concerned gaze with kind eyes. "No other way did you have, nothing less. Paused to brag you should not, for advantage of surprise you surrendered, and escape that did grant. But that one," the short alien dragged in a long and weary breath before releasing it in a decisive huff. "No. Redeemed he could not be. Too much power draws he from dark emotions. Surrender them he would not. No choice did you have, for die that one must."

 

"A better place this world will be once that one no longer in it is."

 

"Ranchan?" A pretty chef stood in the door to her restaurant, battle spatula held limp in her hands as the breeze stirred her nightgown. Confusion and apprehension in her gaze told the padawan that his friend had seen most of that fight, if not all of it.

 

Then he saw her glance flick back and forth between the tiny, ghostly Jedi Master and the severed arm lying close to him in the otherwise silent road.

 

"Ucchan," the gladness in Ranma's eyes spoke of friendship, not danger, and the chef leaped out of her door to hug him, dropping her spatula in the process.

 

Actually she'd been up getting a drink from her restaurant's kitchen when the attacking cry had been heard. Taking instant action, she'd put down her bottle and grabbed her weapon, running to possibly defend her fiancé (and learn where he'd been these past two months) when she'd seen him holding Ryoga in midair with a gesture of one hand. She'd overheard the monologue and witnessed the fight and discussion that had followed.

 

"So, Ryoga was P-Chan? No wonder you hated that pig. Akane brought him into the girls' locker rooms, you know."

 

"Heh. Half the district musta heard him shout out he was P-Chan. I don't think he'll get a nice reception if she tries that again."

 

Normally Ranma would have shuffled his feet and hemmed and hawed infinitely trying to build up to what he was going to ask, or he could've just blurted it out insensitively.

 

But he had managed to gain some mastery of himself and that problem before now. Holding his friend at arm's distance, he asked, "Ucchan, I need a place to stay tonight, and perhaps for a while. Master Yoda says that I'm forbidden to go back to the dojo just now."

 

"Hmph. Reinforce his weaknesses they would. Teach him to remain as he was. His growth they do not desire, only his service. Slave and protector they require. Man, fully trained and confident, able to think and resolve problems, they could not control and would fight against him becoming. Needs that he does not. Their abuse must end."

 

Ukyo blinked several times at the ghostly image of the short, green guy with the long ears. Perhaps it was a requirement that in this insane town the only person to make any sense was both obviously dead and weird looking. Everyone who looked normal (subjectively) averaged five cans short of a six-pack.

 

Genma and some of his ilk were far in the negative range, allowing Ukyo and some of the sanest to be only short a can or two.

 

The chef smiled. "Sure, Ranchan. You can use Konatsu's room. He's been gone for a while now, taking advantage of your absence to get some personal business done."

 

"No!" The little ghost interrupted. "Share same bedroom you must, or better, same bed. This you must do to avert assassins who come in the night will. Catch you in sleep they will try."

 

Seeing Ukyo's puzzled blinking, Ranma shrugged and explained. "Master Yoda can see into the future sometimes. It's better to listen to what he says. Look, I can sleep as a girl, an I got my own futon, travel size, rolled up in my pack. Once I shake the gravel off I'll be fine."

 

"Oh?" The playful Jedi now got mischievous. "Think, one would, that love her you do not, so many precautions you take. Hmhmhmhmh!!!"

 

Both teens blushed red and Ranma suddenly realized that he was still holding the girl in a sort of loose hug. He acted as though she'd become an electric fence and released her at speed.

 

"I... I..." Ukyo blushed and stammered, looking at the ground. "You can join me in my room, Ranchan. I don't mind. But we're both sleeping as girls, alright?"

 

"Will that be enough, Master Yoda?"

 

"Hmm, great danger I see. Pack, you both should, for if flee you must. Hot water have, for if as girl you sleep, still must retreat as man or advantage you lose."

 

"That's cryptic, but no worse than Miyo, I guess." Ukyo complained, before taking her fiancé by the hand and leading him into her home, pausing to collect her spatula on her way. As she bent over to pick it back up, Ranma could see through her robe because of the street light on the other side of her, catching a glimpse of silhouette that was decidedly feminine.

 

Oddly, he did not either collapse, faint, nosebleed or stammer apologies, letting the incident pass without needlessly drawing attention to the unintended moment.

 

However, it did something to change his image of his innocent, childhood friend.

 

Laughing, Yoda floated near to the girl and whispered something into her ear. Blushing, she shut the door behind the trio and gave her betrothed a speculative look.

 

"C'mon Ranchan, you need a bath. Don't you take care of yourself when you're training?"

 

+++++++

 

Back at the Tendo Dojo and Mental Asylum the girls were preparing for bed when the house was rent by the shrieks of Akane in a full-blown panic.

 

The household gathered to see the youngest holding a maimed Ryoga's head in her lap, just in time to hear the Lost Boy murmur, "Ranma. It was Ranma who attacked me, out of nowhere, and did this to me."

 

End Chapter