When school let out, Hotaru made her way directly to the park where she had seen the pigtailed boy. She walked slowly, keeping her eyes out for the sort of disturbance she'd seen the last time.
After a little more than half an hour, she was forced to concede that he was not present and with a sigh of resignation, she headed to her home.
Entering her house she headed straight for the stairs, then jerked in surprise when Kaori appeared beside her with a tray of cookies. "Have some snacks with your studying, Hotaru-chan," the beautiful redhead said, a pleasant smile on her face belying the dislike, hatred even, burning in her eyes.
Hotaru nodded quickly, grabbing the tray, and hurrying out of Kaori's sight. She could not really complain about her father needing company after her mother's death, but something about Kaori rubbed her the wrong way. She certainly seemed nice enough, yet Hotaru was never comfortable around her.
There was never any outward sign of it, but Hotaru felt that Kaori resented her, maybe even disliked her, because her father loved her. It did not make sense to Hotaru for a beautiful woman like Kaori to be jealous of a weak friendless girl but then, the reactions of the kids at school to her abilities did not make sense either.
In the privacy of her room, Hotaru hurried through her schoolwork. When she finished, she went to her door and locked it. She did not want anyone knowing what she was doing.
She might not feel safe trying to do what that boy did in the park, but there was no reason she could not try in the safety of her own room.
She moved a few lamps to make sure she had enough room, then stood in the center of the room and closed her eyes. After a few moments, the image of the pigtailed boy and his first stance was clear in her mind. Focusing on one limb at a time, Hotaru tried to mimic his positioning. She was not sure why she felt it was so important to match his movements precisely.
Maybe it was simply because he himself had moved with such precision. That, she decided, was part of what made the difference between the ugly fights at school and the beauty of his fighting.
She curled her fist, trying to picture the way he had held it, then slowly punched forward, mimicking his first attack. It certainly wasn't a fast punch; she was trying to move at the speed he had, and though he had moved with impressive speed when she first saw him, the moves she was imitating had been made slowly.
Ten minutes later, she collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily. She couldn't believe how sore she felt just from taking one position after another. Of course, the fact that some of them had involved holding one leg in the air through several positions could easily have had a lot to do with her current state of exhaustion.
As usual, however, the exhaustion did not last long and when it faded, she rose and began again.
---
Ranma glanced again at the sheet. In bold letters it read "Anything Goes Martial Arts Socialization." He turned back to Nabiki. "You can't really mean," he began but she cut him off.
"Give me ten minutes, Ranma, please."
Ranma subsided. Ten minutes was not so much to ask. "Alright, Nabiki. Ten minutes. So what kinda scheme is this?"
Nabiki ignored his ending jibe, turning instead to flip the sheet over. Ranma turned his attention to it. He read the list aloud to himself, wondering what the point was. "Sparring, Fighting, Fighting All Out, Berserk. What's this, Nabiki? I thought you were talking about Soc.. Socialling?"
"Socializing, Ranma," Nabiki corrected. "This is part of it. Tell me, Ranma, you encounter someone, say, Ryouga, or Genma, and start sparring. How do you get them to stop sparring and start fighting?"
"Oh, that's easy, not like I need it for pig-boy, though. Just throw a few insults, or if their skills are low enough, just dodge everything."
"Insults, Ranma, are the equivalent of a slap in Martial Arts Socialization, and frankly, that's the only technique you know." Nabiki pulled out a marker, and drew a line down beside the list of words and put an arrowhead on the bottom, so that the line became an arrow pointing in the direction from sparring to berserk.
"It is a one way attack," she continued, then flipped the page.
Ranma again read the words aloud. "Calm, irritated, angry, berserk. Ends the same."
"Yes," Nabiki replied, "it does. This, Ranma, is a list of social phases that match the fighting phases on the first chart. They are linked, though other factors may prevent the connection."
Ranma looked at her blankly. "Huh?"
Nabiki sighed. "Simple, Ranma, to get a fighter to move from fighting to fighting you all-out, you have to make them angry instead of merely irritated. Make sense?"
"Ok, yeah, so what was the part about factors?" Ranma crossed his fingers, hoping that she wasn't about to launch into a math explanation.
"Factors?" Nabiki was puzzled momentarily. Her eyes lit up as she made the connection. "Ah, yes. Just because someone is mad, does not mean they will be fighting. Moving someone from calm to irritated likewise does not mean they will be attacking you. Not everyone will react that way. However, if they are already sparring, the link is there, and pushing them down this set of stages will likewise move them down the set of fighting stages."
"Uhm... ok, I guess."
"You use the one technique you have very well, Saotome. Happosai, Genma, Akane, Ryouga, with all of them, you never seem to have difficulty getting them fighting mad, right?"
"Yeah." Ranma sat up a little straighter, a prideful grin spreading on his face.
"So why are you at a loss every time our fathers get on your case about things you haven't even done?" Nabiki smirked at him.
"I dunno," Ranma said, sitting back a bit sullenly.
"Ranma, look at it this way. If someone doesn't know how to fight at all, has no experience at it, Daisuke, for example, you could take him out with a single punch, right?"
"Yeah, easy."
"But if they know how to fight, if they have techniques of their own, if they can recognize and respond to your techniques, then it takes more than a single punch to beat them, right?"
"Well, sure. I mean, unless you like attacked from hiding or something. But that wouldn't be honorable."
A feral grin lit Nabiki's features. She'd done it, she'd finally managed to engage that brain that he hid so well. "You can't beat our fathers for two reasons. The first is that they know more techniques than you. The second, is because the one technique you have is useless in that situation. Why is that?"
Ranma looked at her for a minute, then looked at the chart. "It only goes down, but if they get angry, or go berserk, that just makes things worse for me," he groused, thinking of all the beatings he'd taken. It was really rather irritating. After all, he was good enough to not have to take that kind of abuse any more, but if he didn't, they might throw him out and then what would he do?
"Precisely, Saotome. When you fight someone, sometimes your goal is simply to beat them. At other times, you need a different result. For example, we've had a few instances of possession in your time here. Remember when Kasumi was possessed by that Oni?"
Ranma nodded, shivering, then tested his understanding with a question. "So you're saying that it's like when we had to fight Rouge? I didn't really want to hurt her, particularly since the only person she was trying to hurt was Taro, but she was dangerous lobbing all that fire around. So, instead of hurting her, we had to douse her with hot water."
"Precisely," Nabiki said. A wave of relief flooded her as her strategy was vindicated. He really did have a mind if you could just get him to use it.
"So, you're saying you can teach me how to fight our fathers?"
"I can teach you more techniques, yes. There are some that relate to this chart, such as how to calm someone down, to do the reverse of your insults. Then there are techniques that use this scale," Nabiki flipped the chart again, to a page that read "Violently disagree, disagree, dubious, neutral, open-minded, agree, strongly agree."
She waited as Ranma mumbled them to himself, then continued. "Dealing with your fathers involves changing their position on this chart. There are many techniques that are useful here, both with respect to making them agree with a statement you have made, or making them question the position they are taking."
"Position?" Ranma cocked his head to one side. "Is that like a stance? You know, a defensive stance, a neutral stance, or an aggressive stance?"
"Well," considered Nabiki, "I meant a verbal position, a claim they're making, such as 'Ranma cheated on Akane,' but we'll talk about stances as well. A lot of the rules you've learned for stances will probably apply here."
Nabiki looked at her watch. "Alright, Saotome, your ten minutes are up. Are you willing to stick around and learn from me? Or are you going to go out there and let our fathers walk all over you again?"
She was surprised and more than a little shocked to see a shrewd look cross Ranma's face. "Aggressive stance," he said thoughtfully, "are you using that to combat pride?"
Nabiki gaped at him for a moment. "Pride? What do you mean, Saotome?"
"You didn't give me time to answer, you went straight to the attack. You took an aggressive stance, kinda, I dunno, challenging me to make a particular response, like a dare, then before I could respond, you attacked that response, made it look stupid. I figure if you'd waited and I'd said no, you'd'a had a hard fight cause I'd look bad if I backed down. So you hit first."
Nabiki felt like whimpering. This was what she'd given up? All she'd done was give him reason to look at her badinage from the perspective of a fight and he was giving her an analysis worthy of a long time student of her art!
"Yes," she replied. "You are correct in your assessment, Saotome. You are both honorable and proud. At the same time, you lack any particular skill in the attack except the insult, which I have defenses against, therefore you are open to an aggressive assault. Your complete lack of defenses makes a less aggressive stance simply a waste of time, since an aggressive stance will take you out in moments."
"Defenses against insults?"
"Insult me," ordered Nabiki, arching an eyebrow.
"You're a heartless mercenary who'd do anything for a buck," retorted Ranma.
Nabiki collapsed to her knees, staring up at him in shock, her eyes filling with tears. "How... H... How could you say that Ranma?" She sobbed, looking heartbroken and defenseless.
Ranma immediately fell to his knees, wringing his hands, looking chagrined and embarrassed and was about to speak when he suddenly paused, a startled look on his face. A slow smile of comprehension crossed his face.
"You mean... wow! That's... uhm... potent, yeah, that's potent, Nabiki-sensei."
Nabiki smirked as she stood. "You're less gullible than I thought," Nabiki said. Damnit, I've got no choice, but if he's gotten so much out of a few minutes, an hour of this and I'm going to have a devil of a time manipulating him.
Ranma seemed to descend into thought and Nabiki let him. She was curious to see what he would come up with. Finally he looked up. "You didn't have to say anything to do that attack... the real attack was the show of emotion, right?"
"Yes." Nabiki answered short and to the point. She didn't want to explain until she had to. She wanted to see how far he would get without help.
"It is unmanly to show emotion," he muttered, almost to himself, then looked up again. "That's why," he stated firmly.
Nabiki frowned slightly. "That's why what, Ranma?"
"That's why Pops was always harping on my manhood and never crying or showing emotion. They must have made him feel the same way you crying made me feel. He... he deliberately taught me not to use them so he wouldn't have to defend against them. Damn him."
"It's more than just emotions, Ranma. Why didn't he teach you to do anything other than throw insults?"
"So I wouldn't have any defenses against his attacks!" Ranma was excited. He had been trying for some time to figure out why he never seemed to win arguments with his father unless they descended to the level of physical conflict. Now it seemed the answer was in his grasp. He paused, "then why, though... why was he willing to teach me all sorts of physical attacks, but no soc... social ones? Unless... unless they're stronger? Like his forbidden techniques?"
Nabiki's smirk grew. "Think about it, Saotome. You can beat up your father and all these other powerful martial artists, but there is one person you can't touch."
"Kasumi!" Ranma's eyes lit up, and Nabiki smacked her forehead.
I meant me, you jerk, she thought to herself. Outwardly she simply waited for the rest of his thoughts.
"She's like... impervious, like the Bakusai Tenketsu training... words don't touch her. She's... immovable, I guess, on those charts. So then..." Ranma paused, dropping into thought again.
"Then there's you... you're like me, you have a technique for every situation, you're good on offense and defense, and you've got special techniques..."
Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Special techniques?"
"Blackmail," Ranma replied with a grin. "It's a trump card like my Hiryuu Shoten Ha. You have to lead someone into it, but once you do, bam! They're yours. Defensively you're a lot like my Soul of Ice... hey, that even matches. See, I use the Soul of Ice to chill my aura while insulting them to heat their aura, then I lead them through the move and finish them off. You start out by not caring about the consequences, Ice Queen and all, you get them hot because you find something they don't want anybody knowing. Same thing."
Nabiki felt a slight blush tint her cheeks. He was comparing her skills to his strongest attack! For some reason, the thought that he might actually respect her was appealing. She shook herself. Can't think like that about him, girl, she chastised herself, then turned her attention back to instructing him.
Long after darkness fell at the Tendo home, Ranma stirred in his room. Rising quietly, Ranma pulled a cloth from within his robes using Mousse's Hidden Weapons technique and cloaked himself with it and the Umi-sen-ken.
Moving carefully and as silently as he could, Ranma made his way through the darkened house to the Tendo attic. Carefully shutting the trapdoor, he dropped the Umi-sen-ken and generated a tiny, diffuse ball of ki in his hand to light his way. He carefully shielded the ki ball to keep from awakening any of the ki-sensitive fighters in the house then made his way to his hidden stash of scrolls.
It would have surprised anyone watching but Ranma did not have to rummage through the scrolls nor open any of them to find the one he needed. One of the techniques he had learned from Tofu, though Tofu himself had not been able to do it, was a way to leave a distinctive ki trace on an object. It was meant for a variation on a technique similar to Hidden Weapons, to allow the correct item to be retrieved in the heat of battle without chance of mistake. He used it mark the scrolls, knowing that it was important that he spend as little time as possible here if he wished to keep their location secret, particularly from his greedy fat fool of a father.
Taking one scroll and returning the others, Ranma slipped forth from the house after concealing the scroll in the same place he had secreted the cloth he had used for the Umi-sen-ken.
He moved quietly out of doors then leapt lightly to the rooftop. He glanced at the moon. It was not quite full but it was close and was shedding enough light that reading would not be difficult.
He untied the scroll and unrolled it then settled in to read. A little more than an hour later, he rerolled the scroll, tied it, and stored it away, then began practising the technique.
Some time later he left the roof and returned to his futon. He awakened with a screech as painfully cold water splashed him. For a moment he thought Akane had gotten over her reaction to his behavior at lunch two days ago. A strange sensation on his chest quickly dispelled that thought.
"Hotcha!"
Ranma looked down at the wrinkled old pervert fondling her breasts and struck downward angrily. "Get off, pervert!"
Happosai was gone before her fist hit and back again a moment later. Even as her anger grew a thought tickled at the back of his mind. Not certain why, she acted on the thought and focused on the Soul of Ice. Happosai fondled her for a moment then got a sudden perplexed look on his face and jumped away from her. He looked her up and down. "Still a girl," he muttered.
Ranma just grinned from ear to ear. "What's wrong old man? Not getting anything?"
Happosai purpled with anger. A moment later Ranma crash-landed in the koi pond courtesy of Happosai's pipe. "Respect your master, boy!"
"You ain't my master," retorted Ranma, flipping her pigtail back over her shoulder as she headed back into the house. Aggressive stance, she mused, thinking of Happosai. He's not the only one. Akane, Pops, Ryouga, even Momma, they all lead with aggressive stances. Except that Pops uses a defensive stance with Happosai and Momma.
Seeing his father at the table, Ranma thought about leading off with an aggressive stance. "Genma! What are you doing about resolving all these engagements you made?!" seemed like a good lead off line, though Ranma decided he wasn't ready to use those techniques in that important a battle yet. He wanted to master them first. Ranma thought that Soun would respond by attacking Genma. Thinking of Soun's behavior, he considered. He uses a defensive stance in most situations, switches to an offensive stance when either his family is threatened, or when he has someone's lead to follow.
As he left the house that morning, he watched Akane. She still seemed subdued. Halfway to Furinkan Ranma spied Ryouga heading in their direction though he didn't seem to have noticed them yet.
He glanced again at Akane. Maybe, he thought, just maybe now that I've broken her automatic anger response I can get her to see Ryouga in a different light. If he attacks me, I'll use the new techniques. He always practices his new techniques on me anyway.
Akane looked up in surprise when she heard Ryouga's shout. "Ranma! For what you did to Akane, prepare to die!"
Ranma glanced at Akane. "Hear that, Akane? Ryouga," gotta remember not to insult him, no pig-boy comments, "doesn't think you can defend yourself." There, that should make her think about him for at least a moment or two. He turned his attention to the rapidly approaching martial artist.
"Hey, Ryouga, where the hell were you? Why didn't you show up for the fight you scheduled? Because of you, my father beat me to a bloody pulp before dragging me to China!"
Ryouga growled, his aura flaring. How dare Ranma mock him!
Akane had looked startled at Ranma's first comment and had just begun to grow angry when he had spoken to Ryouga. She paused for a moment, unsure of who to attack. Sure, Ranma shouldn't pick on Ryouga... but... he hadn't insulted Ryouga... and she had never realized that Genma had forced Ranma to leave instead of waiting, though now that she thought about it, she should have realized that Ranma would never walk away from a challenge. And Ryouga was implying that she needed defending. How dare he!
"Ryouga," she shouted, "I can take care of myself! I'm a martial artist too!"
Ryouga paused in his run just as he reached them. He looked at Akane with wide eyes. "Well, of course you can, Akane-san, but he had no right to..."
"And why weren't you there? You picked the time for the fight. You should have made sure and given yourself enough time to get there!"
Ryouga gaped, at a loss. His... his Akane was saying it was his fault, but... but Akari... but Akane... "Ranma!" He howled, "This is all your fault!" He struck out with his umbrella.
Ranma carefully suppressed his smirk, using the scroll's technique, though as yet in a very mild form due to his lack of experience, to appear completely calm. "A true martial artist takes responsiblity for his own actions," he replied, dodging the umbrella easily. "I took responsibility for the effect my actions in China had on you and aided you when you were in danger."
"Yes, but," Ryouga objected, grabbing a bandanna from his head. "Because of you, Akane is mad at me!"
Akane looked at him in surprise. "What? That idiot didn't have anything to do with that!" Ranma wasn't responsible for all the thinking she'd been doing recently, no-way, no-how. That was all her doing.
Ryouga faltered, the bandanna in his hand losing its razor edge. "But, but I..."
"I helped you get to and from school and you repaid me by attacking me for my father's actions, actions I had already received punishment for," Ranma said evenly.
Ryouga stood still, mind racing. He hadn't really been looking for Nerima even. His feud with Saotome should have ended when he saw the extent Ranma was willing to go to save Akane from death, but when he heard that Ranma had defended himself...
"You destroyed her mallet!"
"She tried to hit me without just cause," Ranma said.
Akane's face darkened a bit at that. "You were being perverted!"
"I bought an okynomiyaki. I paid, and I didn't touch her once. What is perverted about that?"
Akane looked a bit chagrined. She had to admit, Ukyou hadn't even been touching him.
"You're always leading those girls on," retorted Ryouga, "why do you do that if not for your perverted pleasures?" Akane's eyes slitted in response to his words.
Ranma sighed. "You would prefer I kill them?"
"What!?"
"If Ukyou does not either take my blood or take me as her husband she will be cast out of her family, made ronin. What will she do then? A fate little better than death for her. How will she run a restaurant without a name? Shampoo failed once, and received a Jusenkyou curse for it. If she fails twice, particularly with Cologne helping her, the shame will be far greater. I expect her punishment to be either death or banishment."
Ranma waited a moment to let this sink in, then addressed Ryouga. "Come on, Ryouga. You haven't been to school for a while. I'm sure they won't mind you sitting in."
Though very pleased at his success with Ryouga and Akane, Ranma did not attempt to employ the techniques again that day. He was wary of overplaying his hand and in fact was concerned that he had gone too far with Ryouga and Akane. Still, he had had the feeling since Jusendo that a peace with Ryouga was finally possible and it felt good to have taken a step towards that.
For the next several days, Ranma continued to take lessons from Nabiki, the Ice Queen. Each night he spent more time studying the scroll and practising the technique. He was careful to hide the evidence of what he learned, though he did discuss his testing of his skills on Akane and Ryouga with Nabiki.
At the same time in nearby Juuban, a young black-haired girl slowly worked on the first beginner's kata of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts.
On the fourth morning of his training, as Ranma dressed, a small card caught on the edge of his futon attracted his attention. Picking it up, he considered it for several minutes. Perhaps it was time, he thought, picturing again the elegant green haired lady with the striking red eyes.
Slipping the card in a pocket, he headed to the kitchen. Seeing Kasumi serenely focused on her cooking, he watched her for a few minutes, trying to see if he could discern what made her so impervious. Giving up after a while, he moved on to the living room when he suddenly detected an incoming human missile.
He couldn't detect the water but he guessed well enough that it was on its way and he immediately concentrated his Soul of Ice as strongly as he could on such short notice. A crackling sound followed by a sound like shattering glass brought a smile to his face as he spun around. Happosai avoided the backfist Ranma spun with but didn't continue the attack. Instead he was staring angrily at the pile of ice shards lying on the floor a foot from where Ranma was standing.
Ranma smiled at the old man's displeasure, easing up on the Soul of Ice before he chilled the air too much. It had served its immediate purpose, but holding on to it at a lower level should make Happosai plenty unhappy if he found a different way to soak Ranma.
Happosai finally turned from the melting ice shards, facing Ranma with his aura flaring about him. "Insolent boy, you should respect your Master!"
He whipped out his pipe, but suffering from that several days before, the scroll Ranma was reading, and the thoughts of Tofu it brought, had summoned memories of pushing hands with the good doctor. Though Ranma was no master of Tai Chi, he did understand many of its principles. He was ready for Happosai, and when Happosai's pipe contacted him, Ranma welcomed the ki it contained into emptiness just as one did when pushing hands.
His fist lashed out and smashed the dumbfounded Happosai out into the yard. Ranma followed a moment later and began taunting the old man. A tornado a few moments later signalled the end of the old lecher's depravations for the morning.
As Ranma waited for breakfast, his mind returned to the green-haired lady. He had for the first time ever succeeded in avoiding cold water when it came at him, even though he hadn't managed to actually detect it. Still, that was a lessening of his curse. If he could, if she could help him get rid of his debilitating fear of c-c-cats, then with Nabiki's training he would be much closer to regaining some control over his life.
As soon as breakfast was over he was out of the house, not waiting for any questions about his plans. He didn't want to tell anyone about this. Going for a physical given by a beautiful woman, definitely not the best thing to be letting people know about.
In under an hour he stood before the doors of the clinic whose address was on the card he had. To his surprise and chagrin, the doors were closed and locked. He turned away, about to leave, when a soft voice stopped him. He looked up into a pair of startling red eyes.