Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Winds of Change ❯ Lift-off! ( Chapter 4 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Winds of Change

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AN: Hi dear reader. I'm back with more. The story is slowly but surely starting to unfold. At least some parts of it. I also curse my way of always ending up with something serious within my writings. It probably comes with the profession. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Ranma ½ in any way I just like to play around in the sandpit created by Takahashi Sensei. I don’t make any money by writing this so keep your lawyers at bay!

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Chapter 4: Lift-off!

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“That was grand!” declared Ranma as he exited the steaming bathroom. The day had been nice to him. It started with school being canceled. This meant he could spend all his time doing what he really liked. Namely martial arts. There was a second reason. No crazies. No new fiancés. Now calls for his death. No hammers of doom. It was a much-needed reprieve. And there was something even better! Principal Kuno’s antics, more exactly his hairbots. They finally cut the man where it hurt. He only learned about it later on during the day.

The student victory the day before was not as thorough as it was thought to be. The deactivation signal didn’t reach all the bots and one of the pesky critters nabbed the hair of a popular news anchor, live on TV. The anchor was a rather attractive female with a rather long and well-maintained mane. The news anchor in question was also one of the emperor’s distant relatives. One that was well-liked by the man. By THE big E himself.

If there ever was a family where money would not work. Well... This was it! Suddenly, there were questions asked. There were demands for an explanation. The police started to dig. And there was no amount of wealth that would, or for that matter could make them stop. And digging they did! Principal Kuno was in the proverbial frying pan. And there was only one alternative. The fire!

Ranma leisurely strolled down the stairs enjoying the comfortable, tired feeling in his muscles, whistling on the way. He popped in the kitchen for a light evening snack. After a casual ‘Hello!’ to Kasumi he headed out with a bowl of popcorn to watch the news of all things. He had a nagging suspicion that Furinkan was to be mentioned. He had seen the veritable legion of journalists. The reporters were busy grilling every single person on the streets for information. After such a long time Furinkan had finally made it to the national news. It was bound to be a riot! He would not miss it for anything!

In the living room, he was met by a single soul. Grandfather Happosai. Also known as Grandmaster Happosai. Lover of delicate female finery, and women. Pervert extraordinare. Patron saint to underwear-thieves everywhere. To Ranma, he was just a dirty old geezer.

The boy ventured deeper into the room doing his best to ignore the old man who was rolling around in a huge pile of unmentionables. “Like a pig in mud!” he thought with disgust turning on the television, ignoring the cackle that came from the other occupant.

The screen of the device blinked to life. He came face to face with a commercial of some sort trying to peddle a brand of drink to the unsuspecting buyer.  Ranma took up residence as far as possible from the lecher and popped some corn into his mouth. He was surprised how nobody else was interested. One glance at the perverted grandmaster was explanation enough. The women of the house would not risk it. As for the other two men. Nah, those two would volunteer for one-way trips to the Moon to get away from their instructor.

He turned his gaze over to the clock. There were a couple of minutes left till showtime. The lecher behind him cackled on happily. A bra flew up into the air only to be caught by a pair of old wrinkled hands on its path down.

“What does this whacko enjoy in this?” thought to boy observing the man. That was when he noticed something next to the ancient pervert. On the desk, there were two old photographs. Both crumpled, worn, their edges yellow with age. Ranma had never seen photos so old before. Intrigued and guided by morbid curiosity he picked them up, careful as not to damage the relics.

He gazed at the first one. On it, he found a group of men. All in uniform, armed to the teeth. Some serious, some smiling. They were sitting around a flag. The Japanese Sun dominating the fabric’s white background. There were signatures all over it. Ranma turned it around. On the photo’s back, he saw only a single word and a year. ‘Okinawa. 1945.’

He slowly turned to the old man. Happosai cackled with glee, face buried in his treasured collection. The boy turned back to the picture. Upon observing the names on the flag he found the aged gnome’s name. He turned back to the perverted martial arts master with disbelief in his features and a hint of newfound respect.

The boy moved to the second picture. He was met by its back first. ‘Kure. 1928.’ Ranma turned it around. It was... Ranma couldn’t believe what it was. One more glance at the old freak. Then at the picture depicting two people. No way! There was no way that this old thieving loon had ever...

The cackle in the room ceased, but in his shock, Ranma never took notice of it. He didn’t notice the massive pillar of raw ki blazing right next to him. The imminent danger to his health that was Master Happosai’s wrath.

“Gimme that!” yelled the ancient man. “Don’t you dare put your filthy hands on my pictures!” he roared with a fury of a thousand suns. Before the boy even had a chance to react he smacked Ranma’s hand. The blow was strong enough to knock the pictures right from them. The boy yelped in pain as the old man grabbed the photos before they could fall to the ground. Ranma glared at the master with anger that soon evaporated.

Happosai, the feared dirty old pervert, wanted in several countries and unwanted in many more stared at the old images with eyes of adoration. Adoration even the sight of his precious collection couldn’t bring forth. He gently stroked the fragile keepsakes eyes threatening to water. “Did big bad Ranma hurt you?” he asked as if cooing to a child. “Relax! He won't hurt you anymore.”

Ranma bristled. “Hey!” he snapped. “You’re the one who’s terrorising the neighborhoud ya old freak! Besides they're just pictures! So what if something happens to them by accident!”

The air was filled by an audible crackle. A feeling of imminent doom spread across the house. Happosai's fury re-ignited. Eyes blazing with fire locked onto the now terrified teen. “Why you little pipsqueak!” he yelled. Ranma had no time to defend himself or even try to run for that matter. The Grandmaster’s fist rushed forward and amidst the noise of breaking glass and wood Ranma was off for another flight.

Kasumi rushed to the room as the two men of the house, Genma and Soun, left, escaped, fled, the building in a state of panic. The dragon was awake and they did not want to face it. “Oh, my!” exclaimed the young female with her face illuminated by the ancient master’s still roaring ki. “Looks like we’ll need to buy a new door!”

“What? Again?” came Nabiki’s tired voice from upstairs.

Just then the partially bald news anchor reported in with the ‘Furinkan Hairbot’ story.

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An object flew across the Neriman sky trailing smoke behind it. It followed an elegant path across the darkening heavens. The object was quite alive and of sour mood. “That old goat sure packs a punch!” it muttered. clutching his aching side. He was sure he would develop into a colourful bruise within a few hours. However, there was nothing that could be done about that now.

He glanced around. The houses were passing by him at an alarming speed. The angle of his flight was quite shallow. “Roof landing!” he thought taking assessment of the situation. “Could be better, could be worse!” he noted. If he could skip along the rooftops... The only damage would be a few broken tiles. If not... An insurance agency would cover it.

The descent began. He had to time it right. A botched landing could be rather painful. His speed was quite impressive. One more rooftop rushed passed underneath. The next to come was it. The timing of the impact had to be perfect. A mishap could end up getting quite painful.

The fated moment had come. Ranma lashed out. Contact. The force behind the kick was not that much. He just wanted to change his trajectory and not destroy the roof acting as his springboard. The tile held. He was back in the air, but at a different angle. One that would take him to the next rooftop where he’d be able to bleed more speed. From rooftop to rooftop he went, bouncing around the place like a huge flea. He heard a few tiles break here and there, but there was no real structural damage done. Acceptable losses compared to the worst-case scenario.

One last hop came after which he could finally redirect his momentum for a street touchdown. The boy flew high into the sky and did a backflip as the descent began. He readied himself for the landing. Legs at the ready, arms high above him to lessen the forces of the final impact. As he looked down to scout out his destination his eyes went wide. Blood drained from his face. He wanted to cry out in warning but there was just no time.

A surprised yelp filled the deserted street less than a second after the boy’s landing. It had been a close one. He almost crashed right on top of the brunette girl beneath. To his relief, he just landed really, really close to her. Right within arm’s reach. The yelp was from her surprise as she stumbled backward. If not for Ranma’s quick action. Him steadying her by grabbing her at the waist she would have fallen flat on her rear.

The girl's scent of peaches and lavender invaded his nostrils. It was that smell. It was her smell. She subconsciously latched onto him to steady herself. One of her arms ended up around him and resting on his back while the other went around his neck. The two stayed in that position paralysed by how suddenly it all took place. Several long seconds passed. The pair slowly separated. They took a few steps back unsure what to make of the situation. Their faces red.

Yuka looked up at his face. One of her hands found the other in front of her. Ranma nervously scratched the back of his neck. “Um... Sorry for dropping in unannounced!” he blurted out.

The girl smiled ever so slightly. “You certainly have a habit,” she said relaxing her stance. “And you didn’t even bring gifts!” Both laughed. Then they went silent. Unable to say anything.

A dog howled somewhere in the distance. He stared at the stars above. She prodded the ground with the toe of her shoe.

“Out for another evening stroll?” asked Ranma desperate to break the awkward state.

The girl nodded. “Yes... You could say that!” she responded feeling conscious. “You out flying again?” she asked countering his question.

Ranma chuckled. “You could say that!” he answered. She let out a short giggle.

“Akane?” she asked relaxing her stance more.

“Nope. Not this time.” responded the boy with a hint of embarrassment. “Happosai,” he added seeing the girl’s inquisitive face. “Touched something of his I guess I really shouldn’t have,” he explained.

“So what did you touch?” she asked.

Ranma shrugged. “Some old pictures of his. Guess the old lech wasn’t always the way he is... He went ballistic when he noticed.”

“And?” pressed Yuka with a pointed look. She leaned forward ever so slightly to press the issue, her eyes fixed onto his.

The boy stared back trying to endure her gaze. Those chocolate orbs bearing a mixture of innocence and wit. Their depth. It was so easy to get lost in them. The accusatory way they stared at him. As if to ask: "What else!" There was no escape. He cracked soon enough.

“All right! All right! I may have said something that upset him.” he admitted.

Yuka shook her head, amused. “You always do!” she answered. “You know that!”

“No I don't!” responded the boy defensively, taking a step back. “Do I?” he added unsure of himself.

“Yes, you do!” came the girl’s stern reply. “Akane complains about it all the time!”

“I just don't like to beat around the bush?” he said clamming up.

The girl eyed him. “Beat around the bush?” she asked innocently. “Uncute? Flat-chested? Macho chick? Built like a stick? Dumb as a brick? Huh? Do those words ring a bell?”

Silence was her answer. Ranma’s attention moved to the ground. The expression on his face made his thoughts obvious. He was trying hard to find justification and was failing miserably at it.

“Well?” asked the girl urging him to answer. She took a small step forward. Then another, intruding into his personal space. He retreated in disbelief at how an ordinary girl with zero martial arts knowledge could do this to him. To put him on the defensive. He longed to be back in mortal combat with Saffron. There he knew what was to be done. There he would be truly at home. He also came to the stunning realisation that he knew next to nothing outside martial arts. It was a daunting thought.

“We don’t have all night Saotome!” Yuka pushed getting right into his face, staring up at him.

Ranma was forced to look right into her eyes. Her scent was once again making it hard for him to think. “Guess I was a little harsh?” he spoke admitting that he was at fault.

“A little?” she asked.

“All right! So I was an all-out arsehole!” he said sharply. “Happy?” he asked

His answer from the girl was a hearty nod. “Yes you were!” she spoke. “You really should be more careful how you treat people!”

“Yes, mom!” responded the boy with a smirk.

“Tell you a secret, Saotome!” she said giving him some space, stepping away from him. For some reason, he would have preferred if the girl had stayed. Her scent was fading, quickly. Even with how intimidating she was. He wanted more. He had to fight off the need to pull her closer. Yuka smiled at him. “If anybody would ask me I’d say Akane is just as guilty as you!”

“Huh?” was Ranma’s most intelligent comment.

“You heard me right!” she replied. “Akane is not one bit better! She could just talk it over with you! But no! She just uses her tried and tested method of hitting the problem until it goes away.”

Ranma nodded in agreement. He, however, was tired with the topic which was himself; his apparent lack of manners. And the girl did push him into a corner. He decided to go on the offensive. He wanted some payback and he remembered well how evasive she was about a question of his the last time. And her promise.

He smiled as it was his turn. “So, what about you?” he asked. “What is a cute girl like you doing in the streets at night!?” He contemplated moving into her space, but for now, he decided against it. He did not want to intimidate her. It was just not right.

Yuka stared at him, her face slightly flushed. The compliment blindsided her somewhat. She had no idea which part of his words she should react to. The question or the remark about her beauty.

“I’m waiting!” he urged softly after almost half a minute of silence. The girl’s embarrassment deepened. The colour of her cheeks became more apparent. Her hands found one another once more. Ranma had trouble figuring out how she could turn from outgoing and dominant to meek and shy so quickly.

“Can’t we talk about something else?” she asked turning to face away from him. A desperate attempt at hiding her reddening cheeks.

“I’m just interested why I bump into a girl out on the streets in the freezing cold with no coat,” he said concern evident in his voice.

“Says the one only in a shirt!” retorted Yuka, now clearly on the defence. For a few seconds, she felt relief as there was no answer. She hoped her counter was enough to take the wind out of his sails. Then she stiffened when felt a heavy hand settle on her shoulder.

“Is it wrong to look out for others?” he asked calmly. Almost as if he was someone completely different from the outgoing, happy-go-lucky kind of person he seemed to be at first glance. The girl almost bolted. She wanted to. Her legs for some reason refused. Then he continued. “You helped me to understand a few things better. Now let me help you!” he said.

Yuka turned around slowly, hesitantly. The sky had completely turned dark. Lamps all around were flickering to life. “I don’t want to burden you with my problems,” she said as a last resort. She knew there was no use.

“You are not!” he answered, declared with a smile.

The girl took a deep resigned breath. She was not getting out of this. There was no way she could refuse giving him the answer. Not with the way he was asking. “It’s my parents,” she admitted. “Arranged marriage. They never really learned how to get along.” she explained ‘They argue constantly, shout at each other… They throw things. It’s a hellhole at home. I rather walk the streets!” she explained.

“And?” Ranma asked expectantly.

“And?” she mirrored him meeting his eye for a moment.

“I also left out a few things, Kobayashi!” he said with a confident grin on his lips.

“Payback, huh?” she asked with a coy smile.

“You can bet your pretty little behind it is!” he replied his grin broadening.

“Manners, Ranma!” she warned before blushing at her slip up.

The boy’s grin was replaced by a smirk. “So now I get to call you Yuka! Cool!” he said. “So what’s the cherry on top?”

The girl gave him a small shrug as if to say okay I surrender. “Well, my family is from an old line of doctors and nurses... And my parents... They insist I follow in their footsteps. Thing is... I really don’t want to.” she explained. “The mere sight of blood or a needle for that matter makes me want to faint!”

“So what do you want to be instead?” he asked.

The girl’s eyes turned sheepish. She needed a few moments before she answered. “A hairdresser,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ranma backed off immediately. He went all the way to the wall behind him. His had latched onto his pig-tail as if to say ‘Don't you dare!’

The girl in front of him stared not knowing what to make of his behaviour. Then it clicked. She laughed. He stared at her, his eyes wide as she leaned forward, hands on her knees for support, as she let out a full-blown belly laugh. Her voice ran the entire length of the street.

“No!” she exclaimed amidst fits. “I’m not like that goon!” she said referring to one particular hair-crazed Kuno, who was currently sweating bullets as his mansion was torn apart by the police. “I just want to make people feel pretty, to pamper my guests and allow them to relax,” Yuka explained.

“So... You’re not gonna go crazy like coconut-head?” Ranma asked gathering his courage to approach her.

Yuka’s expression became stern, yet the smile on her lips remained. “Don’t put me on the same shelf with that travesty of a barber. He’s an insult to anybody in my field!”

"I guess I owe you an apology!" he responded smiling with embarrassment.

“So?” she asked expectantly.

“Sorry! I won’t ever compare you to that moron!” he said. “You are too cute anyway!”

The girl’s eyes were smiling once again. “Keep those compliments for Akane!” she responded.

The boy glanced around. “Hey, Yuka!” he spoke sounding a bit hesitant. “Since neither of us can really go home… You know stupid people… Care for an evening stroll?”

“Any destination in mind Ranma?” she asked.

“Nah, not really. I don’t feel like standing around and...”

“Feel like what?” she asked interrupting him. “Feel like getting a new fiancé?” she continued her voice teasing, her eyes mischievous.

“Hey! I’ve got more than enough of those!” he retorted.

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The alien craft was rapidly approaching the blue planet ahead of it. Two alien beings floated just alongside it in full vacuum suits. Busy trying to repair the wreck that was their ride. The bigger of the two reached out and plucked the wrench like tool that was floating just within his arm's reach. Before going back to work. Diving back into the confines of an open panel.

“Okay! That should do it!” he declared a few moments later. His stacatto voice sounded satisfied over the radio. “How is the hull doing?” he asked.

The smaller form floating close by continued her ministrations of adding some sort of material to every crack or seam she could find. “Could be better,” she responded. “She is barely holding it together. I patched up half a dozen holes and cracks.” she moved over another damaged part. “There’s a lot left to go!”

The larger form responded with a nod. “Well the shields should work on the way down, but I’m not taking any chances. Do you think this rust-bucket will be able to do it?”

“Do we have a choice Captain?”

“Nope!” was the answer from the male. “So did you find a good spot to masquerade as locals?”

“Yup!” responded the woman. “I managed to intercept a visual broadcast on one of their educational centres. The place seemed to be interesting. I believe they called it Furinkrazi or something like that.”