3 - Masquerade Ball Battle

Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction: "Masquerade Ball Battle: Ranma vs. Tsubasa" (Installment #3)

By: Dark Phoenix (Carolyn Brickhouse)

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Takahashi Rumiko, but the story
idea is mine alone
(Bwahahahahaaa! Ooops. Sorry about that.). This is the third
installment in my ongoing series which
began with my fanfic "Onslaught of the Red Haze." And now, let the
madness begin!

PART I: Who Wants to Play Dress-Up?

"Class, to your seats! I have an announcement."
 Hinako-sensei, in child form as usual, darted about the classroom in
her typical giggly mood. When everyone settled down, she swept to the front
of the class.
 "Wonder what she's so worked up about," Otoko-Ranma grumbled, tossing
his backpack down beside his desk.
 "Now then, class," the child-like English teacher began, "as you
know, it's time for our annual Furinkan High School Spring Festival--"
 "Yea! All right!" various members of the class shouted.
 Hinako-sensei frowned and whipped out one of her fifty-yen coins. She
shook a finger at her class. "Ahem. Settle down right now, or I'll have to
discipline the lot of you."
 Immediately the class fell silent. Ms. Hinako was something of a "ki-
sucking vampire," and her idea of "discipline" was to suck her opponents'
battle auras through her coins, leaving them temporarily helpless and
tranforming herself into a strict twenty-something year-old woman.
 "As I was saying," she went on, "Principal Kunou has graciously
agreed to let us celebrate differently this year--"
 <Right,> Ranma snorted to himself, <like that jerk ever wanted us to
celebrate in the first place.>
 "--by having a masquerade ball in a couple of weeks!" Ms. Hinako
jumped up and down, squealing.
 Again the class started murmuring excitedly amongst themselves. A
masquerade ball! Already students were deciding what costumes to wear,
including Akane Tendou, Ranma's fiancee.
 <Wow, a costume ball,> she thought happily. She stole a glance at her fiance, who was busily tapping his
fingers against the desk, a bored expression on his face. She quirked an
eyebrow at him. <Now the hard part is getting him to come with me.>
 <Great,> Ranma was thinking. <And I just _know_ Akane's gonna want
us to pair up. By now everyone's heard about that Love Bug fiasco.> He
rubbed his temple irritably. <Oyaji and Oji-san just _had_ to blab everything
in Nabiki's presence. I wish she would stay out of our business.>
 "I expect everyone to participate. It'll be fun!" Ms. Hinako piped
in above the chaos. "Now settle down. It's time for class."
 Despite their intense excitement, the class obeyed. No one noticed
the huge, potted plant sitting in the corner sprout legs and slip quietly out
of the room.
 "A masquerade ball! Oh, this'll be so much fun!" Ukyou Kuonji
squealed as she entered her restaurant.
 The okonomiyaki chef extraordinaire, dressed as usual in a boy's
school uniform, opened the front door to find her waitress, the ninja
Konatsu, clearing off a table.
 Konatsu, a beautiful young man who dressed like and lived as a woman,
looked up, smiling at his employer. "Ukyou-sama, hello." He bowed. "Did
you have a good time at school today?"
 "I sure did." Ukyou tossed her backpack behind the counter. "My
teacher announced that Furinkan High is having a costume ball in two weeks!"
 "A costume ball? How wonderful!"
 Ukyou nodded. "Everyone's so excited--there oughta be a big turnout.
You know, you should go, too, Konatsu."
 The bishounen blushed and averted his eyes. "But Ukyou-sama, I doubt
I could impress anyone. I'm so . . . plain, you know."
 "Oh, please, you give yourself so little credit." Ukyou patted him on
the shoulder. "As for me, all I want"--she sighed and fluttered her eyes--
"is to come up with the perfect costume to impress Ran-chan with."
 "Oh?" Konatsu picked up the last dish and frowned prettily. "But-
-isn't he engaged to Akane Tendou? He'd be going with her, wouldn't he? And
she'd certainly not put up with a wandering eye--"
 Stubbornly Ukyou waved Konatsu's protestations away. "I doubt that,
Konatsu. You saw what happened at their wedding. It was a disaster. A bad
omen, I tell you. Those two were _not_ meant to be together." She took the
tray away from Konatsu. "I mean, didn't you hear about what happened with
that Love Bug? That proves there's nothing between them."
 Konatsu considered for a moment. "Well, you're right about the
wedding disaster, but . . . I don't know. With all due respect, Ukyou-
sama, I think they just had a stroke of bad luck, and--"
 "Nonsense, Konatsu," Ukyou cut in, shaking her head. "Ran-chan and I
go way back. He likes nice girls, not evil, barbaric ones like Akane." She
moved toward the kitchen sink, her waitress following close behind. "Or
psychos like that Kodachi Kunou. Or floozies like that bimbo from China,
Shampoo."
 Konatsu shrugged and said nothing.
 "Anyway," his employer continued, "even though _I_ have more of a
chance than those girls ever will, I still have to come up with the perfect
costume."
 "But my dear Ukyou-sama, you're already perfect," said the girl's
voice coming from a huge pot sitting in the corner.
 Ukyou dropped the tray and "promise posed," her eyes shrinking to
pinpoints. Konatsu gasped and watched as the pot sprouted the arms, legs,
and head of the last person Ukyou wanted to see.
 "Tsubasa Kurenai!" Ukyou moaned in horror.
 Giggling, Tsubasa, another cross-dressing male, shook off the remains
of the pot and curtsied. "Exactly. I've come back to see you again, my
darling Ukyou-sama!" He dashed toward her.
 Sweating, Ukyou backed up against the sink and reached inside her
shirt for a bag of the gunpowder-tempura flake mixture she rarely used. But
Konatsu intervened, frowning.
 "Please, could we not have any fighting?" he pleaded while wondering
which Kunoichi Nimpo manuever he should use against this pest.
 Annoyed, Tsubasa ignored him. "Ukyou-sama, please tell Cinderella
here to move along. I came here to see _you,_ not him."
 Her stomach lurching, Ukyou gently pushed Konatsu aside. "It's OK. I
can handle him." Then she focused a stern gaze on Tsubasa. "Tsubasa, how
many times do I have to tell you to go away?"
 Tsubasa's bottom lip trembled, and his large eyes filled with tears.
"But--but Ukyou-sama, I came to give you a present."
 Ukyou's eyes made that squelchy noise as she blinked. "A-- present?"
 Eagerly Tsubasa reached inside his dress pocket and pulled out a
sparkling gold bracelet, inlaid with an assortment of gems.
 Both Ukyou and Konatsu gasped, intrigued. "It's gorgeous!" exclaimed
Konatsu. "Where did you get that?"
 "Bought it, of course," Tsubasa answered haughtily. "How else? It
cost many yen, but it was worth it." He offered it to Ukyou. "Here. Think
of it as an engagement gift."
 Ukyou's left eye twitched. "En-engagement gift?" She swallowed.
"No thanks!"
 Tsubasa pouted. "But Ukyou-sama--"
 Impatient, Ukyou pressed it firmly into Tsubasa's hand. "No, Tsubasa.
My heart belongs to someone else. Please understand." She turned away.
 "But--" Tsubasa toyed with the fringe of his dress. "But I--"
 "No, Tsubasa." Then, feeling guilty at using such a harsh tone, she
turned to face him again. "Look, Tsubasa, I'm sorry. But I've got homework
to do, a restaurant to run, and a costume ball to prepare for." She spread
her hands. "I'm just too busy right now."
 "Um." Tsubasa stood there, crestfallen for a moment. Then he
brightened. "Oh, well. I've got business to take care of myself. Rest
assured, my darling, that you'll be seeing me again soon!" He bounced toward
the nearest exit and waved. "Until then!" And he was gone.
 Absently fingering one of his hair ornaments, Konatsu turned shining
eyes toward his employer. "You handled that quite well."
 All Ukyou could do was sigh.
 "My, what a pretty dress, Akane."
 Kasumi, the eldest Tendou sister, smiled as Akane carefully smoothed
over the elaborate medieval- style dress she held.
 "Thanks, Kasumi-oneechan," Akane said, beaming. "Isn't it gorgeous?
This is what I'm wearing to the masquerade ball Friday."
 "Indeed." Kasumi said. Then she did a double-take. "Akane, isn't
Friday your birthday?"
 "Uh-huh." Akane grinned. "You know, I would've loved to have a party
right here at home, but well, I really would like to go to this ball."
 "Oh, that shouldn't be a problem, Akane. I'm sure we can still give
you a party, even a late one." Kasumi patted her sister's arm to reassure
her.
 "Thanks, Kasumi." Lovingly she caressed the dress. "I always wanted
to dress up as Juliet again."
 "I still say Romeo suits you better, Akane."
 Akane slowly turned around to look at the doorway. There stood Ranma
leaning against the wall, a completely innocent expression on his face.
 "Ranma," Akane said with mock sweetness, "what exactly do you mean by
_that_?"
 "Duh, Akane," Ranma continued drily. "Isn't it obvious? I mean,
look at that dress. It's too . . . well . . . It was meant for a girl with a
figure, not a--"
 Ranma didn't finish his sentence, being interrupted by a well- placed
fist in the face.
 "Who asked you, you moron?" Akane spun on her heel and went back to
her dress, leaving Ranma in a crumpled heap.
 Kasumi made a tsk-tsk noise. "Now, Akane, if you keep hitting your
'Romeo' like that, he won't be in any shape to go to the ball with you!"
 "Who said I wanted him to come with me?" Akane spat. <Honestly! I
wish Ranma would watch his mouth. After what happened on that camping trip,
I almost hate to hit him so much.> Then her eyes narrowed. <But the last
thing I'd _ever_ want anyone to suspect is that I actually feel . . . closer
to him.>
 "Oww, the pain," Ranma groaned, sitting up and rubbing his face.
<She still hits as hard as ever. Just as well, I guess. Don't want them
suspecting we could actually stand each other.>
 Suppressing a giggle, Kasumi said, "Oh, welcome home, Ranma. Or
should I say--Romeo?" She winked at him.d at him. Ranma rose to his feet, snarling. "I am NOT her Romeo!"
 "Yes, you are, Son."
 Three heads turned to see Nodoka Saotome stroll in, carrying her
wrapped katana and a basket of flowers, the latter of which she set down
near the table.
 "Good Evening, Auntie Saotome," Akane greeted, glad for the
distraction.
 "Hello, Mrs. Saotome," added Kasumi, rising to marvel over the flower
basket.
 "And hello to you," Nodoka replied, smiling. Then she turned a stern
gaze toward her son. "Ranma, you _are_ going to the ball with Akane as
Romeo, and that's final."
 Ranma sputtered, "But--but Ma--"
 "I won't hear it." Nodoka shook a finger at him. "Accompanying your
fiancee, my son, would be a very manly thing for you to do," she pointed
out. "It's a husband's duty to look out for his wife."
 "But she ain't my wife, Ma!" her son countered, defiant.
 "Doesn't matter." With one deft movement Nodoka whipped out her
katana sword (she had gotten much better at handling the thing). Its blade
glinted in the evening light.

Ranma gulped.

"Now, as I was saying, Son, you _are_ going to the ball." She smiled
very sweetly. "With Akane."

The Pig-Tailed Boy opened his mouth, but the sight of the unsheathed
blade changed his mind. Defeated, he hung his head. "But Ma," he said
sullenly, "I don't got a costume."
 "No problem." Sheathing her sword, Nodoka reached into garmentspace
and pulled out a man's medieval-style pants outfit.
 "You'll look so dashing in blue," Nodoka commented, indicating the
outfit.
 <Well,> Akane thought. <Guess that solves _that_ problem.>
 <Guess that means I'll be going,> Otoko-Ranma thought as he stepped
outside onto the porch, hands in his pockets. <Shoulda known Ma would
interfere. *Sigh* Well, guess there's no use grumbling about it. I either
go or become better acquainted with Ma's katana.>
 Leaning against the outside wall, his thoughts drifted--as they tended
to do lately--to Akane.
 <Come to think of it, the tomboy might--might--actully suite that
dress.> He closed his eyes, trying to imagine her in it--
 --and realized what he was doing.
 <Whoa! I'm doing it again.> He rubbed his temple. <No matter how
hard I try not to, I always end up thinking about . . . her.>
 To distract himself he walked toward the carp pond, admiring how well
the grass had grown back around it. <Speaking of Akane,> he mused, 
 He slapped his forehead. <Arrggh! There I go again.> He looked
helplessly up at the evening sky.
 <What's happening to me?>
 "Well, well, well. If it isn't Ranma Saotome!" a girl's voice
called.
 Ranma jumped, startled. Before he could demand the unseen speaker
reveal himself, one of the rocks around the carp pond broke away from the
rest and scooted toward him. He assumed a battle-ready stance.
 "What the hell--"
 Then he heard giggling issue from the rock, and before he could say
another word, the rock cracked apart, revealing the smug-faced form of
Tsubasa.
 "You?" Ranma's eyes widened. "What're you doing here?"
 "Surprised to see me again?" Tsubasa asked, smoothing down his dress.
"Surely you didn't think I had gone away forever, now did you?"
 "I wish you had." Ranma grumbled. He had a good reason to be angry
with Tsubasa: The so- called "master of camouflague" had goaded Ranma into
using his female form to compete with Tsubasa's-- until Ranma had discovered
that Tsubasa wasn't even a real girl.
 Tsubasa rocked back and forth on his heels. "Really, Saotome, you
shouldn't be so rude, not when I'm here to offer you my services."
 "Services?" Ranma squinted suspiciouly at him. "C'mon, man. There's
nothing I need from you."
 Tsubasa glanced up at the sky and whistled. "Au contraire, my friend.
I could do you a lot of good." The kawaii boy straightened the bow in his
hair and sat down on one of the rocks, crossing his legs. "I understand your
dear fiancee Akane Tendou is celebrating her birthday this Friday."
 Wondering how Tsubasa knew that little bit of information, Ranma
pierced him with a glare. "And where'd you pick that up?"
 The master of disguises giggled behind his hand. "Oh, please. With
me the walls literally have ears, Saotome."
 "So you were spying on me?"
 "I wouldn't call it spying!" protested Tsubasa. "I just happened to
be at the right place at the right time."
 Ranma folded his arms. "Like I said--you were spying."
 Tsubasa face-faulted.
 "OK, OK, whatever," he grumbled. "But the bottom line is this: As
her fiancee you're expected to give her a gift. A nice gift. An
_expensive_ gift."
 "I still don't see where this little discussion is going."
 "Be patient, will you?" Tsubasa held up his hand, then rose and
pointed dramatically at Ranma. "You, Ranma Saotome, by parading in female
guise not only tried to take my dear Ukyou-sama away from me but also dared
compare your looks to mine." He angrily stamped his foot. "You've some
nerve, you know that? To think that an uncultured lout like you could best
_me_ at being the cuter girl!"
 Like a leaden weight Ranma's jaw plummeted to the ground. "What?!
You're still broken up about _that_?"
 "You bet I am!" Hands on his hips, Tsubasa stepped forward and
stared Ranma dead in the eye. "And I want a rematch."
 "A-a rematch?"
 "Precisely." He smirked. "My challenge is this: Come to the
Furinkan High School ball prepared to prove once and for all which one of us
can convincingly act more feminine."
 Shocked, Ranma strove to keep his anger in check. "You gotta be
kidding! First of all, I'm only going to the dumb ball because my Ma is
making me. And second of all"--he jabbed Tsubasa's nose-- "I'm a guy, and the
last thing I need to be doing right now is acting feminine."
 Rubbing his nose, Tsubasa clucked his tongue. "So what you're saying
is that you're chicken, right?"
 "Chicken?" Ranma's battle aura flared up. "Say that again?"
 Ignoring Ranma's rising anger, Tsubasa glanced away. "Well, imagine
that. Last I heard the esteemed Ranma Saotome didn't run away from a fight."
 Ranma had had enough. He pounded Tsubasa on the head.
 "Dumbass! You calling _me_ a coward?"
 On the ground Tsubasa rubbed his head. "Yes, but apparently that was
a mistake." He picked himself up and regarded the other. "And it seems
being female sometimes does nothing to hinder the pain you can deliver."
 Now it was Ranma's time to smirk. "Damn right."
 A glint shone in Tsubasa's eye. "Which is why I'm certain to win this
challenge, and"--he reached inside his dress front-- "why I'm willing to bet
this!"
 Glinting in his outstretched hand was an expensive-looking gold
bracelet inlaid with jewels.
 Ranma forgot his rage for a moment to draw a sharp breath. "Whoa--
where'd you get that?"
 Exasperated, Tsubasa rolled his eyes. "I really wish people would
stop asking me that. I _bought_ it. And yes, it's very expensive." He
smiled, admiring it. "It's to be a present for my darling Ukyou-sama."
 "For U-chan, huh?" Ranma commented. "So she's decided to date you
now?"
 Tsubasa looked ashamed. "Well, not . . . not exactly. But I . . .
um . . . still plan to give it to her." He focused on Ranma again. "That is,
unless you can win it from me."
 "Hmm." Ranma affected a look of disinterest. "Yeah, well, I'm not
interested."
 Tsubasa placed a hand on his hip. "Oh really? So you plan to give
your fiancee some other, less expensive gift?"
 "Hentai yarou--who says I wanna give that macho woman anything?"
Ranma shouted at him. "Why should I care if it's her birthday or not?"
 The force of Ranma's voice blew Tsubasa's long hair back. When the
wind stopped, the master of disguises shrugged. "So you've said." He
placed the bracelet back in his dress front. "Anyway, my offer still
stands. If you won't accept my challenge for Akane's sake, then at least be
man enough to accept it as a simple challenge."
 "Whadda _you_ know about what's manly, Tsubasa?" <What an arrogant
little bastard. I'll accept this challenge to teach him a lesson.>
 "OK, Tsubasa, I accept."
 Tsubasa blinked. "Uh, what was that?"
 "I said I accept." He casually folded his arms behind his head.
"Besides, I ain't got nothing better to do, and since you're willing to make a
fool out of yourself, why shouldn't I play along?"
 "Ha!" Overjoyed, Tsubasa jumped up and down. "I should've known you
couldn't resist. Fine then. You come to the ball, and we'll get this thing
started." He turned to go. "I'll be seeing you. Bye!"
 As soon as Tsubasa had gone, Ranma began wracking his brain.
 <OK, I accepted. Now, how am I gonna manage this?> He scratched his
head, a worried expression creeping onto his face. <It's not like last
time--Ma's back home. If she catches me even considering running around in
a fancy girl's costume in my female form . . . > He shuddered.
 Then he reconsidered. Maybe there was a way to get around that
particular obstacle, but there was one other problem, one that pierced his
soul, plaguing him even more.
 How was he ever going to cope with the fact that he was mainly
accepting this challenge--for Akane's sake?
 "And how's Mommy's widdle baby?" Akane cooed, picking up P-chan and
hugging him close.
 The black piglet, aka Ryouga Hibiki, sighed. "Kweee," he squealed
with delight. She was such a nice girl. If only he could tell her how much
he loved her when he was human . . .
 Grinning, Akane straightened the black and yellow bandanna tied around
her pet's neck and held him so he could look at her costume. "See that, P-
chan? That's what I'm wearing to the masquerade ball. I can hardly wait."
 It certainly was lovely, and P-chan squealed a reply. He knew Akane
would flatter it. Then he grunted, imaginary brows furrowing. It was too
bad Ranma wouldn't appreciate it, though. If anything, he was probably
somewhere trying to figure out a way to get out of going. Akane mistook her
piglet's cranky mood for being hungry. "Oh, what's the matter, P-chan? You
ready to eat?" She picked him up again. "Let's go find you something."
 Before her hand reached the door, a timid voice called her name.
 "Excuse me . . . Ms. Akane?"
 "Kweee!" P-chan squealed, startled, and Akane spun around, ready to
strike the unwelcome intruder. When she saw who it was, she relaxed.
 "Konatsu!" She set P-chan down on the bed. "How'd you get in here?"
 The bishounen ninja bowed and shrugged. "I'm a ninja--I have my ways.
Please forgive me. I didn't mean to intrude." He averted his eyes,
uncertain.
 Concerned, Akane's brow furrowed. "Konatsu--is something wrong?"
 The ninja took a deep breath. "Ms. Akane . . . I just wanted to let
you know that Ms. Ukyou will also be attending the costume ball."
 Akane nodded, not surprised. "Well, I expected as much. After all,
everyone's talking about going. But why are you so--"
 "She's setting her sights on your fiance."
 "Is she now?" Akane affected disinterest. "That's nothing new. Why
should I care?"
 "Please, Ms. Akane." Konatsu stepped forward and took her hand. "All
I'm saying is that you should be on your guard. I know things between you
two are not at all smooth, and . . . I know very well what it's like to love
someone and not really be sure that person loves you back."
 Akane stared at him, shocked speechless. She struggled to say
something, but all she could do was blush profusely.
 P-chan noticed this and hung his little head.
 Nervously Akane wiped a strand of hair from her cheek. When she
finally found her voice and looked up for Konatsu, he was already gone,
leaving no indication he'd ever been there.
 Numb, Akane sat down on her bed. P-chan nudged her hand, but she
didn't seen to notice. She was lost in thought.
 <Konatsu's very perceptive. And he's right--Ranma _has_ been acting
pretty distant lately, and I have been wondering . . .> She fought back a
tear. <And he hasn't said a thing about my birthday being this Friday.
Maybe . . . maybe all that happened on that trip to the mountains _was_ just a
dream.> She sighed, remembering how calm and wonderful she'd felt when she'd
lain against him- well, _her_, her mind amended--in the cavern. <It had felt
so real . . . .>

Then she thought of Ukyou, and her battle aura flared up, startling P-
chan. <And Ukyou--if she thinks she's going to take Ranma away from me,
she's got another thing coming! He may still be susceptible to her charms,
but I'm not letting that moronic jerk out of my sight.> She clenched her
fist. <I'll show her. After all the trouble she caused at our wedding-->
 Suddenly she froze. Where had those thoughts come from? Was she
actually afraid Ranma could be seduced away from her?
 Determined, she pounded her fist into her palm.
 "If I catch him snuggling up to her or anyone else," she vowed,
whipping out the Tendou family sword and patting it against her palm, "he's
a dead man!"
 P-chan shivered. Although he wasn't sure of all the details, he
suspected his presence would be needed at that ball as well.

PART II:
And May the Best Man--er, Woman--Win
 That Friday night at 11pm the Furinkan High Masquerade Ball was fully
underway.
 Students and teachers alike flowed into the the school gymnasium,
representing every type of costume imaginable. Kunou-kouchou came dressed
as a Hawaiian king, laughing manically and waving a pair of hair clippers.
Hinako-sensei wore an elf costume which stretched to outrageous proportions
whenever she had to discipline an unruly student. Hikaru Gosunkugi wore the
guise of a Shinto magician, which might have been frightening had he managed
to keep some of the other students from beating him up. There were many other
costumes, some unusual, others standard fare. Everyone was chatting and
enjoying themselves. The sound system was even blasting the upbeat tunes of
the group DoCo.
 Akane, Ranma, and Nabiki arrived shortly.
 "Wow! They really put out the yen this time," Nabiki exclaimed,
dressed in an elaborate kimono worthy of a Japanese empress. She folded her
fan and tapped it against her hand and searched the crowd. "I wonder where my
friends are. They said they'd be here. I told them tonight might be
interesting."
 "And why would you tell them that?" Ranma asked, scanning the crowd
for Tsubasa.
 Nabiki shrugged. "Oh, Ranma-kun, please. With you around there's
sure to be some excitement."
 "Or trouble," Akane, fumbling with her headdress, mumbled sullenly.
 Nabiki rolled her eyes and regarded the two. Ranma and Akane had been
awfully silent on the way here. Tension between them was always thick, but
it seemed tonight it was even more so. Naturally curious, she wondered
what was going on.
 <I'll find out soon enough,> she mused, studying them as they took in
their surroundings. Having a soft spot despite her mercenary nature, Nabiki
had to admit the two complimented each other quite well. Ranma's costume even
included a flowing cape, and Akane's dress was a bright purple and gold with a
long train. These costumes looked even better than the one's they'd worn
during the Romeo and Juliet play.
 <Too bad their dispositions aren't any better,> Nabiki observed. <If
I didn't know them as well as I do, I'd swear they just had a seriously big
lover's quarrel or something.>
 Deciding to let the matter rest for the time being, Nabiki smoothed
aside a lock of her short-brown mane and patted the camera she carried in her
purse. "Well, I'm going to look for my friends. I know they're around here
somewhere." She squinted as she searched the sea of faces. "Wonder where
Kunou-chan is."
 "Who knows? Who cares?" Ranma grumbled.
 Nabiki frowned slightly. "My, my. Aren't _you_ the spoilsport." She
turned to go. "I'll be seeing you." She retreated into the crowd.
 That left Akane and Ranma alone. They eyed each other sideways.
 "Well," Ranma began, uncomfortable, "whadda we do now?"
 Akane feigned a smile. "How about we go get something to drink?"
 "Whatever you want." He shrugged.
 They moved through the crowd. From all sides people were marvelling
at the couple's outfits and showering them with compliments, but neither
Ranma nor Akane was actually listening. Once they reached the refreshment
table, Akane poured herself a drink and casually regarded her fiance.
 "So, Ranma, what's with the backpack?" She gestured over his
shoulder.
 "Just bringing a few things I'll need," was all he said.
 Akane looked suspicious. "What could you possibly need at a party
that requires a backpack?"
 Irritable, Ranma rubbed his temple. "Um, Akane, do you mind? I'm
looking for someone."
 Eyes narrowing, Akane crumbled the plastic cup in her hand to dust.
"Is that so? And who would that be?"
 "Hi, Ran-chan."
 Akane and Ranma looked up to see the approaching forms of Ukyou and
Konatsu. The master of okonomiyaki-style martial arts wore a flattering
warrior-type outfit that made Akane a little green with envy. Konatsu
followed in the guise of an Egyptian maiden.
 "Yo, U-chan, Konatsu," Ranma greeted, glad for the distraction.
"Nice costumes."
 "Yeah, nice," Akane echoed, less than enthusiastic.
 Ukyou blushed, batting her eyes. "Oh, thank you, Ran-chan. You look
dashing as usual." She glanced over at Akane, who was starting to glow
bright blue. "Oh, hi, Akane-chan. Nice dress."
 Akane smiled icily. "Thanks." <Really, Ukyou, you should be ashamed
of yourself. That costume almost looks like something Shampoo would wear.>
 Sensing the tension, Konatsu cleared his throat. "It's really
wonderful to see you two here. Um, Ukyou-sama, would you like something to
drink?" He gestured toward the table.
 "Sure, Konatsu." Ukyou waved him aside, never taking her gaze from
Ranma. <You may be here with Akane, but from the way your eyes keep darting
about, I can tell you're looking for someone else.> She pouted. <Poor
baby.>
 "So what're your plans for tonight?" she continued, nudging closer to
him.
 <That's it!> Furious, Akane grabbed Ranma by his pigtail. "C'mon,
Ranma, I have to talk to you. Right now."
 "Oooh, oww!" Ranma yowled as she dragged him away.
 Akane dragged him up to the nearest wall and cornered him, staring him
straight in the eye.
 Ranma rubbed his scalp. "Now what was that for?"
 "You _were_ waiting for Ukyou, weren't you?" Akane demanded, fuming.
 "Huh?" He looked confused. "Ukyou? No, of course not!"
 "Oh no?" Akane paused long enough to give the evil eye to a few
eavesdropping students, who immediately edged away. "Then why were you so
busily searching the crowd? Was it for Shampoo?"
 Ranma sighed and rolled his eyes. "No, stupid. Didn't I tell you
Shampoo's out of town with the old ghoul? They're performing some weird
secret Amazon ritual or something."
 Akane wasn't convinced. "Then for who? Kodachi? Mikado? Kunou?"
 "Kunou?! No!"
 "Then who?" Akane scrutinized him. "You know, ever since that Love
Bug incident, you've been behaving strangely. Really cold and distant. Now
I want to know what's going on, and I want to know now!"
 Ranma suppressed a moan. This was awful. Part of him wanted to
confess everything, and the other part warned him to keep his mouth shut.
This was a delicate business. He was already tense because he didn't want
what he was about to do to get back to his mother. And now, between Akane
browbeating him and his wondering if he really did . . . care very deeply for
her . . .

<See?> He thought miserably. 
 Akane tapped her foot, then grabbed him by the collar. "Well?"
 "Uh," Ranma began, sweating.
 "Attention, please," a sultry voice announced over the intercom.
"Would everyone please gather around the center stage for an explanation of
tonight's activities?"
 Everyone turned to regard Ms. Hinako, in adult form this time,
standing in front of a microphone, a trio of disciplined students lying at
her feet.
 Glancing down at them, she sniffed and shook her long brown mane. "I
told them alcohol wasn't allowed," she muttered before going on. "Now
then. First of all, I wanted to let you know that I'm glad so many of our
students showed up tonight."
 A chorus of cheers ensued. Frowning, Ms. Hinako whipped out a fifty-
yen coin.
 Silence.
 She smiled smugly, even as she reverted back to child form. "That's
better. Now, as I was saying--"
 "Hold it!" a girl's voice commanded.
 Heads raised and voices chattered, curious about the mysterious voice.
A second later one of the speakers onstage exploded, revealing a cute, giggly
young lady dressed in an elaborate Southern bell costume, complete with
bonnet, dainty white gloves, and a parasol.
 "Guess that's my cue," Ranma murmured, taking advantage of Akane's
inattention and springing away.
 "Hey, that girl looks . . . familiar," Akane whispered, turning back
to where Ranma had been. "Ranma, isn't that--" She blinked. "Ranma?
Ranma?"
 "Ta-dah!" Tsubasa squealed, taking the microphone from a startled Ms.
Hinako. "Ladies and gentlemen and whatever, I, Tsubasa Kurenai, have
arranged for a special bit of entertainment for you all tonight."
 "Entertainment?" More muttering. "What's she talking about?" "Hope
it's something good--this party has been a little dull so far." "Has anyone
seen my date?"
 <What is going on?> Akane wondered.
 "Prepare to be astounded," Tsubasa continued, "as Furinkan High
witnesses the very first Femme- athon!"
 "Femme-athon?" serveral members of the audience repeated
 "That's right. My opponent and I will decide once and for all which
of us is more of a 'lady.'" He paused for dramatic tension. "And my
worthy--or unworthy--opponent, as the case may be is . . . Ranma Saotome!"
 A chorus of "huhs" and "whats" filled the gymnasium. Those closest to
Akane looked to her for an explanation.
 While the audience murmured amongst themselves, Tsubasa searched the
crowd. "Now where is he? Don't tell me he's late." Tsubasa folded his
arms and pouted. "Or that he's run away."
 "Fat chance, pal!"
 Akane froze, recognizing the voice. Something darted along the
rafters of the ceiling and landed gracefully on the stage. Akane couldn't
believe her eyes.
 Standing defiantly in front of Tsubasa was a girl dressed in a green
harem costume straight out of the Arabian Nights. Bright red hair was drawn
up into a ponytail that flowed well past her waist, red hair that Akane knew
all too well.
 Ignoring the chatter, Onna-Ranma fixed her gaze on Tsubasa. "Tsubasa
Kurenai," she announced, "I, Ranma Saotome, have come to accept your
challenge."
 A short distance away Akane glowed red. <A
challenge? From Tsubasa? And he never even told me about _this_ one! That
lousy . . . just what is he up to now? And is he crazy, parading around in
_that_? What if Mrs. Saotome were to see him like that?>
 She clenched her fist. She just should march right up there and
demand an explanation, she knew she should. But right now she was so angry
and hurt all she could do was stand there and watch.
 <Some birthday this is turning out to be . . . >
 "Yo, Tsubasa," Ranma said, cracking her knuckles, "whaddaya say we
get this thing started, huh?"
 "Whoa," Tsubasa answered, looking her up and down. "You're
determined to win this, aren't you?"
 "Yeah, whatever." Ranma flicked a lock of hair over her shoulder.
"Can we get started already?"
 "Patience, patience, Saotome." Wrenching his gaze away from Ranma,
Tsubasa took up the microphone again. "Ladies and gentlemen, you, the
audience, will decide. The contest is as follows: I will give a series of
scenarios in which each of us will exhibit feminine behavior. Whichever one
of us can convincingly act the _least_ masculine, wins." He gestured at Ms.
Hinako. "I would like you to be the final judge, if you don't mind."
 "Oh. Well, um, sure!" Ms. Hinako giggled.
 "Wow," someone murmured, and other students took up the discussion.
"A cat fight! Cool!" "I'm betting on Tsubasa." "I dunno, man. Saotome's
done some pretty convincing things in the past. I'll vote for him--uh,
her." "Where'd all that hair come from?"
 "Is he for real?" Akane whispered to herself. Then she spied Ukyou,
confiding something in Konatsu. Gritting her teeth, she plowed through the
crowd to get to her.
 "Ukyou," she hissed, "did you put him up to this?"
 "What? Me?" Ukyou vehemently shook her head. "No way. I had no
idea Tsubasa had challenged him. I swear!"
 "I don't believe you!" Akane spat, jealousy having completely
enthralled her. "Let me guess-- they're fighting over you again, is that
it?"
 Ukyou seemed at a loss for words. "I--I don't know! Akane, really I
don't! All I did was come out here to impress him--oops!" she said, seeing
fire light up in Akane's eyes.
 "Uh, Akane," she proffered.
 "I'm getting to the bottom of this." Akane stomped away, heading for
the stage.
 Konatsu sighed. "Tonight should be interesting."
 Ukyou nodded. "I'll say. Things sure are taking a strange turn."
Absently she fingered the huge spatula she always carried. "I think I'd
better lay off Ran-chan for now. This little 'gal-off' looks a lot more
intriguing."

It wasn't long before Akane was dragging a loudly protesting Ranma off
the stage and into a corner.
 "Oww! Why'd you do that, stupid?" Ranma demanded, massaging the area
where Akane had pulled.
 Glowing like a Juliet from hell, Akane planted herself right in front
of her fiance and spat, "What . . . in the world . . . do you think . . .
you're wearing?"
 Ranma stared blankly at her. "It's a costume, stupid. What's it look
like?"
 "A costume?" Akane looked her up and down. "Where? You're
practically falling out of it!" She pointed at Ranma's torso.
 "What? No, I'm not!" Then she looked down at herself. "Oooh, boy.
Well, I can't help being a little big for this top. It was the best I could
do on such short notice."
 Akane clenched her fists. <OK. Should I murder him now or wait until
I don't have any witnesses?>
 "Ranma," Akane whispered, "is your pride so great that you're willing
to compete with somebody like Tsubasa _again_? Does stringing Ukyou along
still mean something to you?"
 "Hey!" Ranma poked a finger at her. "For your information, tomboy, I
ain't doing this for Ukyou."
 "Ha!" Akane snorted. "Puh-lease! If that's true, then why don't you
tell me what's going on?"
 Ranma's face drained of color. No, she wouldn't. Not now. She had
to get this over and done with. "I . . . can't say, Akane," she mumbled,
averting her gaze.
 Frustrated, Akane grabbed her fiance by her sleeves. "Why?"
 "Because . . ." Ranma trailed off, staring into her eyes. She saw
the hurt and pain there, and wanted to do something about it . . .
 But Ranma was Ranma, and the familiar stubbornness resurfaced.
"Listen, I don't got time to listen to you browbeat me." Taking advantage of
Akane's shocked state, she wriggled out of her grasp. "Just butt out and
let me do my work, OK?" And without another word she leapt away.
 Akane watched her go, cursing to herself silently. <Why did I ever
think I could care about him?>
 Just then an estatic Nabiki rushed up to her, a stack of photos in her
hand.
 "Akane, look! Kunou-baby's going to love this!" She searched the
crowd. "Now where is he? The rich just have to be fashionably late." She
sighed. "Well, gotta go. Bye!"
 Meanwhile, Ranma was making her way back to the stage.
 <What a dumb chick. Always interfering. She'll learn what's going on
soon enough. I swear, women. I'm one half the time and I still don't quite
understand them, especially ones like that tomboy.>
 She landed on the stage just as Tsubasa was inquiring about her
whereabouts.
 "Ah, there you are," Tsubasa said, toying with his parasol. "Are you
ready?"
 "Tsubasa," Ranma said with a smirk, adopting a very feminine stance,
"let's see what you've got."
 Somewhere in the crowd Ryouga Hibiki, disguised as a medieval squire,
watched with interest. If anything, he knew somewhere along the way he'd
have to comfront Ranma for being such a jerk.
 "Let the contest begin!"
 Ms. Hinako clapped her hands, overjoyed at being the emcee for this
little bit of entertainment. The lights had been dimmed, and everyone had
crowded around the two contestants in the middle of the gym. One would
think they were gathered to watch their favorite sport, as many had bags of
popcorn and drinks. Once everyone was settled, Ms. Hinako read the contents
of the piece of paper she held.
 "First event," she announced, "is Sewing. Wheee!" She bounced up
and down. "Whichever contestant can sew a handkerchief in the most ladylike
manner wins." She gestured to the two contestants. "Whenever you're ready,
um-"she looked at Onna-Ranma and shrugged-"ladies."

<Sewing? He's gotta be kidding.> Ranma yawned. She affected a
smile. "Why don't you go first, Tsubasa?"

Tsubasa smirked. "Giving up already?"
 "Not a chance . . . sweetheart," Ranma replied sarcastically. "Just
being a good sport."
 "Right." Tsubasa laid down his parasol, took up the needle and
thread, and then, tossing his hair aside, began to sew. Slowly.
 Ranma's irises shrunk to pinpoints. "Uh, Tsubasa, you wanna hurry it
up? I don't got all night."
 Tsubasa didn't answer, but kept right on sewing.
 The audience made comments.
 "Hmm. Nice form. She moves the needle rather delicately." "Look at
that arm--perfect grace!" "Gee, couldn't she, you know, move a little
faster?"
 <This is ridiculous!> Impatient, Ranma grabbed her own sewing
supplies. "You call that graceful?" A glint shone in her eye. "Watch
this."
 Ranma took a deep breath, then--
 "Yaaaaaaaaah!"
 Suddenly Ranma's arms were moving so fast they were a blur. Astounded
murmurs filled the air. In thirty seconds later--
 "Ta-dah!" Ranma held up a perfectly embroidered handkerchief with the
hiragana for her name spelled out on it. Smirking, she tossed it to Ms.
Hinako. "So, Teach, whaddaya think of that?"
 "Ooooh!" squealed a kawaii voice, and someone snatched the
handkerchief from Ms. Hinako. "That hankie's sooooo kewt. Jean-Claude!
Jean-Claude!" And Azusa Shiratori, dressed as a teddy bear, bounced away.
 "Doesn't that girl go to another school?" someone muttered.

Ms. Hinako pouted. "Awwww! And I didn't even get to look at it
properly." She huffed and turned to the audience. "All right, people.
What's your input?"
 "Well," someone piped in, "Saotome did a good job, but . . . I mean,
it was gracefully done and everything,--"
 "Of course it was!" Ranma butted in.
 The student gulped. "Yeah, but . . . wouldn't a real lady have taken
her time? I mean, Saotome was so . . . fast."
 Ranma almost had a heart-attack. "Say WHAT?"
 Murmurs of agreement rumbled throughout the audience. Some of the
girls rolled their eyes and whispered amongst themselves. Ignoring Ranma's
shocked gaze, Ms. Hinako shrugged.
 "Then I guess Tsubasa wins this one." She glanced at the paper. "The
next event is--"
 "Hey! Wait a minute," Ranma spat, planting herself squarely in front
of Ms. Hinako. "You're gonna deny me points just because I actually got the
job done?"
 "Uh, excuse me," Tsubasa interrupted, gathering his skirts. "The
winner of each event is the one who exhibits the more proper feminine
behavior, not the one who finishes the job." He giggled. "And I'm afraid
you failed."
 Ranma clenched her fists. "If we weren't in public, you little
asshole, I'd--"
 Sitting on a table somewhere, Akane huffed, annoyed. <This is so
dumb . . .>
 Ms. Hinako cleared her throat. "The next event"--she paused as Ranma
crushed the microphone stand-- "is, um, Self-Defense." She motioned to the
two sailors hovering nearby. "Daikuse, Hiroshi, would you come up here
please?"
 The two boys, classmates of Ranma, stepped eagerly onstage.
 "Now gentlemen," Ms. Hinako said, "you two are going to pretend to
attack each of our two contestants. The winner is the girl who can show how
a really proper lady would handle this situation. Go for it." She stepped
aside.
 The two boys looked from Ranma to Tsubasa. "So, ah," the one called
Hiroshi asked, "who's first?"
 Ranma waved them toward Tsubasa.
 The boys shrugged. "OK." They conferred a moment, cleared their
throats, then approached Tsubasa in what they thought was a menacing manner.
 "Here now, Missy," Daikuse said, adopting a scowl, "we're taking you
with us, and we don't want any trouble out of you. Right?" He reached over
and grabbed Tsubasa's arm.
 "Right." Hiroshi echoed, a little embarrassed with being on stage in
front of everyone.
 "Pathetic," Ranma muttered.
 "Oh!" Tsubasa breathed dramatically. "Oh please don't hurt me!" He
pretended to struggle. "Oh, isn't there a brave gentleman nearby to save a
poor, helpless girl? Help, help!" Then he bowed, the performance having
concluded.
 Several applauded. Ranma stared, dumbfounded beyond belief. "You
guys actually bought that?" She gazed at Tsubasa contemptously. "That was
the most revolting display I've ever seen!"
 Tsubasa stuck out his tongue. "Then why don't _you_ show us how it's
done?" He motioned the two boys toward Ranma.
 Ranma watched as Daikuse and Hiroshi conferred again. Then each boy
reached over and grabbed Ranma under her arms.
 "Whoa, watch it, jerks!" Ranma snapped. "This bodice is stretched
tight enough as it is."
 "Just play along, Ranma," Hiroshi whispered in her ear. Then louder,
for the audience to hear: "All right, girl. You're coming with us whether
you want to or not."
 "Hold!" someone shouted.
 A second later Daikuse and Hiroshi were smacked unconscious by a well-
placed bokken. Before Ranma could ask what was going on, she felt a
familiar *squeeze.*
 "Oh, Pig-Tailed Girl, let me be your sheik!" the voice's owner
breathed into her ear.
 "Gyaaaaaaah!" Ranma screamed before slamming her attacker face- first
into the gym floor.
 One student shook his head. "Looks like Upperclassman Kunou's at it
again."
 Sure enough, Ranma found herself stomping on the prostrate form of
Tatewaki Kunou--dressed as a sheik no less.
 "What do I look like, a squeeze toy?" she demanded.
 Kunou groaned, eating linoleum. "Forgive me, my love," he managed,
"I sought only to save a lady in need."
 "Save or molest, you pervert?" Ranma hissed, stomping him again.
 "My, my, my," Tsubasa commented, twirling his parasol. "That body
really works for you, doesn't it?"
 Ranma fixed her opponent with an icy glare. "Shaddup!"
 Ms. Hinako spread her hands. "Audience?"
 "Uh, well," someone said, "I must say I admire Saotome's form,
but--but--"
 Ranma's eyes were lit coals. "But--WHAT?"
 The student *eeped!* "But--I dunno. Saotome was kinda--um,
tomboyish, don't you think? In striking Kunou like that?"
 Nearby Ukyou rolled her eyes. "Puh-lease."
 "Yeah, I agree," several others said.
 "Exactly," chirped Tsubasa.
 "TOMBOYISH?" Furious, Ranma tromped over Kunou and confronted
Tsubasa, who affected a completely innocent look. "What'd you expect--I'm a
boy!"
 Tsubasa pointed at Ranma's torso. "Not right now you're not,
sweetheart."
 Ranma paused, and clenched her fists. "Details, details. The point
is--I was NOT going to let some hentai squeeze me like that and get away with
it!"
 "But you could've cried for help," Tsubasa pointed out, toying with
his curls.
 "I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!"
 "Excuse me," Ms. Hinako intervened, "but the audience has spoken.
Tsubasa Kurenai wins this round as well, I suppose." She patted a beaming
Tsubasa on the shoulder. "Nicely done . . .if the helpless route is what
you're shooting for."

<Ranma no baka,> Akane thought, taking another sip of her drink.
<It's a dumb contest, but still, he's failing miserably. But he's being a
jerk, so I really shouldn't care. I should just get up and leave.>
 Then her brow furrowed.
 <So why aren't I moving?>
 <OK, this was fun for a while, but now it's time to get serious,>
Ranma mused, giving Tsubasa the evil eye. She chuckled to
herself. <Then I'll give them feminine!>
 "The next event," Ms. Hinako announced, "is--Flirting!" She motioned
for two other young men to approach the stage. "OK, each one of you is
going to demonstrate the best way to grab a man's attention. The better
flirter wins. Hop to it!"
 Tsubasa stepped forward. "I suppose I'll be going first--"
 "Not so fast," Ranma intervened, pushing him back. "I'll go first."
Turning on her heel, she oriented on the nearer of the two guys--
 --and slinked toward him, her progress made even more seductive by the
costume she wore.
 The boy's glasses steamed up.
 The audience murmured. Then Ranma placed her hand on his shoulder,
and in her most sultry voice said:
 "Hi there, handsome."
 The young man gulped, straightened up as stiff as a board, and
fainted.
 Silence. Ms. Hinako stood there for a moment, speechless, while
Tsubasa stared. Sweating. A lot. Breaking his parasol in two.
 Akane dropped her drink.
 Ukyou clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my god. And it looked
so . . . authentic."
 "Mavelous," Konatsu said appreciatively.
 "Is Ranma . . . sure he's a boy?" a girl whispered to her friends.
 *Click, click!* went Nabiki's camera.
 "Oh, my Pig-Tailed Goddess," Kunou moaned, struggling to rise, but
failing.
 "Um," Ms. Hinako managed, "Mr. Saotome . . . I . . . didn't think
you . . . had it . . . in you."
 "Ha!" Ranma said, smirking. "You'd be surprised. So then, I guess I
win this match, right?"
 Ms. Hinako managed to wrench her gaze away. "Au--audience?"
 Again silence. Then people, mainly young men, started shouting.
 "That did it for me. Saotome wins!" "Such perfect form, such grace.
Announce Saotome the winner!" "It was that costume, and the walk, and the
voice that did me in. Give it to Saotome!"
 More shouts of confirmation followed. Flabbergasted, Tsubasa
shrieked.
 "Hey, but that's--but that's NOT FAIR. We only went for three rounds,
and I won two of them." He stamped his foot angrily. "I say the contest
keeps going. _I'm_ more feminine than that wretched Ramma Saotome will ever
be!"
 Ranma giggled, certain of victory. "Awww, poor widdle Tsubasa. If
you're so feminine, then why--" she pointed at the Tsubasa's face-- "are you
sweating like that? Because of something a _girl_ did? Don't tell me you
were getting . . . excited."
 Tsubasa's eyes widened until they completely covered his face. "What?
N-no! Of course not." He blushed, wishing he had his parasol to hide
behind. "Absolutely not! That had no effect on me at all."
 Ranma squinted at him, unconvinced. "It didn't? Then watch-- this."
 With a flourish Ranma whipped out a large pair of Japanese fans.
 Firmly resolved, Ranma struck a pose--
 --and began bellydancing.
 Throughout the audience males were swooning, and females were
watching, hovering somewhere between shocked and envious.
 Kunou, already weak because of Ranma's handiwork, lasped into a
temporary coma he was so excited.
 Somewhere Akane was wondering if she were actually seeing what she
though she was. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air.
 Tsubasa, by the way, was twitching. Noting his reaction, Ranma danced
closer to him. By then Tsubasa's knees were buckling--
 --then unable to take anymore, he fainted.
 Ms. Hinako gasped. "Goodness!"
 "Whoa, look at that," someone commented, indicating Tsubasa. "I
_knew_ there was something odd about that girl."
 Satisfied, Ranma stopped dancing.
 "Well, I take it I've won." She consigned her fans to fanspace and
walked over to Tsubasa. With a slippered foot she pushed him over and saw
the gold bracelet glittering on the stage floor.
 Like a some great conqueror Ranma snatched it up. "And this, I
believe, is mine now." She sighed, oblivious to the attention she was still
getting. "And now it's time to get out of these clothes." Without another
word she leapt away, using the nearest person's head to as a stepping stone.
 That person just happened to be a squire named Ryouga Hibiki.
 Shocked, angry, and desiring and explanation, Ryouga rushed through
the crowd to follow. Some distance behind him was another figure, who knew
answers had better be forthcoming.

PART III: How Do I Love Thee? Um, Let Me See . . .

Ranma ran out of the gym and along the outside, heading for the bushes
where she'd stashed her backpack.
 <Am I glad _that's_ over!> she thought, about to round the corner.
<That contest could've gone on forever. But my quick thinking not only sped
things up but got me this bracelet.> She slowed down, gazing at it. <Of
course, the tomboy probably won't appreciate this-->
 "Ran--ma," someone growled.
 Before she knew it a young man dressed as a squire snatched the
bracelet from her. "What the--" she began, spinning around. When she saw
who it was, she folded her arms and sniffed.
 "Well, well. P-chan. Really, Ryouga," she scoffed, "tights just
don't suite you."
 Fuming, Ryouga bared his fangs. "Ki-sa-ma! You know, you've got some
nerve, Saotome."
 "So what did I do _now_?"
 "Why don't you just stop it?" Smugly Ryouga leaned against the side
of the building, eyes glinting in the moonlight. "I was with Akane when
Konatsu came to her room--"
 "Konatsu?" Ranma frowned. "When did he--"
 "He came and told her Ukyou was planning to make moves on you
tonight." He gazed long and hard at his rival. "I noticed Ukyou did to
some extent, but then she backed off when your little performance with that
Tsubasa person began." He held up the bracelet. "And then Tsubasa gave you
this. You care to explain yourself?"
 "Explain what?" Ranma took a step toward him. "Look, man, I won that
bracelet fair and square. Now give it back!"
 "Why should I?" Ryouga shot back. "So you can give it to some other
girl? Or was it Tsubasa's gift to you for that show you put on?"
 "Oh, get real, idiot. Give it back!"
 "No." With one quick movement Ryouga slipped the bracelet on. "I'm
keeping this until I get some answers."
 "Why you--" Ranma leaped forward. Ryouga saw her and tried to move
out of the way, but Ranma's female form had amazing speed, and before he
knew it she'd knocked him to the ground.
 "Well, Ryouga," Ranma said, brushing aside a long lock of hair as she
straddled him, "I suppose you'll give me that bracelet now, huh?"
 "No way!" Ryouga snarled, then happened to glance down. His eyes
widened to enormous proportions.
 Ranma frowned. "What?"
 Blushing, Ryouga squeezed his eyes shut. "Ranma," he mumbled,
"your . . . torso . . ."
 "Yeah, what about it?" Ranma looked down at herself. Her bodice, she
noticed, had stretched even more. Getting an idea, she grinned
mischieviously.
 "Give that bracelet back, Ryouga," she warned, "or I'm gonna yank
your eyelids off and lean forward!" She reached for his arm. "Now give
it!"
 Some distance away, Akane walked about, breathless.
 <Where is he? I know he came out here somewhere. What was that he
took from Tsubasa?> Sweating, she took off her headdress. <That was some
performance. Maybe . . . maybe he didn't come here to flirt with Ukyou or
anybody else after all. *Sigh* Now I feel dumb. Maybe I just should've
waited for him to explain himself.>
 Then she heard two voices shouting from somewhere in the bushes.
 "Take it off!"
 "No, I won't!"
 "Off!"
 "No!"
 "Off!"
 "N-no! You brute--get off me!"
 Ranma growled. "Take it off, or I'm gonna--"
 Akane blinked, following the noises. "Hey, that sounded like Ranma
and . . . Ryouga? Are they fighting again?"
 She quickened her pace and rounded the corner.
 Just in time to see Ranma, with her fist drawn back, on top of Ryouga.
 Akane gasped.
 "RANMA?" She looked down, squinting in the moonlight. "Ryouga?"
 At the sound of Akane's voice, the feuding pair froze--and turned to
face her.
 "A-Akane-san," Ryouga moaned. "Oh no . . ."
 "Um," Ranma managed, taking advantage of Ryouga's inattention (he had
fainted, actually) and wrenching the bracelet off his arm. "Um . . ."
 Akane stared, then found her voice. "Ranma . . . what . . . are . . .
you . . . DOING?"
 "OK . . . um . . .Akane," Ranma stammered, realizing she was in a
very compromising position, "um, this isn't . . . what it looks like . . ."
 But Akane's attention was riveted on Ranma. She took one step
forward.
 "You . . . playboy . . ."
 Ranma decided she'd better get off Ryouga. "Um, Akane, let me
explain. You see--" She gulped as Akane pulled her mallet out of
malletspace.
 Slowly Akane kept coming forward. "You . . . you . . . you . . ."
Jealousy and old suspicions having enthralled her, Akane rushed her fiance,
swinging the mallet.
 "You--liar! Lech! Pervert! Cassanova! Bimbo! Slut! Faithless
jerk!"
 Ranma leaped out of the way. "Akane, I _told_ you--I wasn't--"
*Dodge* "--wasn't trying to-- Look, I was only trying to get him to give me
something!"
 "Give you something?" With a savage swing Akane almost made contact
with Ranma's head. "Give you WHAT? I should've--*grunt*--known
you--*another grunt*--would end up chasing someone else. Ukyou was bad
enough, but to abuse poor, innocent Ryouga like that- -"
 "Are you crazy? I wasn't gonna hurt him!"
 "You weren't?" Another swing. "So you were going to be gentle, is
that it?" Angry tears streamed down her face. "And I thought you . . . and
I thought we . . ."
 "Now hold on!" Ranma stopped, planting herself just out of mallet
range. "Would you just listen to me for once?"
 "Why should I? Give me one good reason not to pound you to a pulp!"
 Gritting her teeth, Ranma held her ground. "You stupid girl--I went
through all that trouble tonight for _you._"
 Akane had raised her mallet again, but Ranma's words made her pause.
She stared. "You . . . what?"
 "You heard me." Grumbling, Ranma reached into her endless waves of
hair and pulled out something shiny. She tossed it at Akane. "I told
you--I accepted a challenge from that moron Tsubasa so I could win you"--she
pointed-- "that."
 "But I don't . . ." Akane caught the object, inspected it, and
gasped. In her hand she held the most beautiful bracelet she'd ever seen.
The sight of it left her speechless.
 Impatient, Ranma tapped her foot. "Yeah, well, while you ogle that,
I'm gonna go change." She wiggled, an irritated expression on her face.
"This bodice is killing me. I've gotta lay off the fried wonton." She
disappeared behind the bushes, stepping over Ryouga's unconscious form.
 Moments later Otoko-Ranma emerged from the bushes with his backpack
and original costume on. He stopped in his tracks, seeing Akane on her
knees in the grass, crying.
 "Yo, Akane," he called, adjusting the strap on his pack but never
taking his eyes off her, "what's-- what's wrong with you?"
 She didn't answer, the bracelet still resting in the palm of her hand.
Confused, Ranma scratched his head.
 "Um, Akane, did you hear me or what?"
 Suddenly Akane let out a large sigh, startling Ranma so that he
"promise posed," afraid she'd decided to resume her desire to kill him.
 Instead, all she did was look up at him with those large, brown eyes.
 "Ranma," she croaked, sniffing, "you . . . you . . . you're giving
this to . . . me?"
 Ranma bit his lip, then began blushing. "Well . . . yeah. I
mean . . . today--or I guess, yesterday, since it's almost 1am--was your
birthday. And you didn't have a party at home, and . . . I figured a gift
would be nice to give you . . ." He trailed off, realizing he was babbling.
 Akane merely regarded him. Wondering why she was still so silent,
Ranma met her gaze-- and drew a sharp breath.
 <Kawaii,> he thought, the word springing unhindered into his mind.
<Kawaii . . . >
 "Ranma, I . . ." Blushing, Akane dropped her eyes. But she soon
forced herself to look at him again. "I'm . . . sorry. I didn't know--and
you didn't tell me--"
 "I didn't wanna spoil the surprise, that's all. And well . . . you
oughta know by now what it means when I don't just come out and say it."
Absently he dug his slippered toe into the ground. "You _do_ understand,
right?"
 Akane nodded, then slowly smiled.
 He fidgeted. "Happy birthday, Akane."
 "Thank you, Ranma."
 Ranma indicated the bracelet. "So . . . are you gonna put it on? It
_is_ a bracelet. Here." He reached forward and took it, slipping it easily
over her hand. Holding it up, Akane admired the jewels as they glinted in
the moonlight.
 "It's beautiful," she whispered.
 "Yeah," he said, but he was looking at her.
 "Thanks, Ranma. It was a late birthday present, but better late than
never, right?"
 He nodded. Then he cleared his throat and jabbed a finger toward the
gym. "Say, Akane . . . you wanna go back to the party?"
 Akane thought a moment, then shook her head. "It's already been a
long night, and I've had enough excitement." She cocked an eye at him.
"This is a night I definitely won't forget."
 "Really? And why's that?"
 "Come on, Ranma," Akane whispered, a mischievous glint in her eye,
"What you . . . did . . ."
 "Oh that." Ranma hung his head. "Kuso--I still can't believe I did
that."
 "_I_ can. You just can't stand to lose a fight, can you?"
 He sniffed. "Why would I wanna put up with _that_ kind of
humiliation?"
 Akane laughed. "You're impossible."
 "No, I'm _dead_, that is, if Ma finds out."
 "Even if she does hear about it, she probably won't even believe you
did it, since you've already proven how 'manly' you are." She chuckled.
"But everyone at school will be talking about it for weeks. Maybe months."
 Ranma groaned. "Thanks a lot. They already think I'm weird."
 Akane spread her hands. "Just remind them you were a girl at the
time. It's worked before."
 Her fiance considered that a moment. "Hmm--guess you're right."
 "So there's no problem." Then she happened to look down at Ryouga.
"Oh! I almost forgot about him, poor guy. Ranma, pick him up so we can
take him home."
 "Do we hafta?"
 Akane faced him, her hands on her hips. "We can't just leave him out
here."
 Ranma grumbled, but slung Ryouga over his shoulder anyway. "OK, but
I'm dumping this dumbass as soon as we get home."
 Exasperated, his fiancee threw up her hands. "Honestly! Look at
him--he's out cold." She bent to inspect his face. "Just what did you do
to him?"
 "Nothing much," Ranma replied. <After what this idiot saw, he should
be out until dawn.>
 He motioned toward her.
 "Let's go home."
 "Tsubasa? Tsubasa?" Ukyou called, poking him.
 Konatsu shook his head. "It's no use--he's out." He shrugged. "It
was more than he could take, I suppose."
 "You got that right." Ukyou settled back on her heels. "It's funny.
Tsubasa usually does such a great job. For him to be undone by somebody
else . . . I guess _nobody_ beats Ran-chan at anything." Shrugging, she
stood and peered about the crowded room. "Speaking of Ran-chan, where did he
go?"
 "He-uh, she--went outside and didn't come back," Konatsu supplied
evenly. "Ms. Akane's gone, too."
 Ukyou didn't like the sound of that. "Umm, I see." She gave Tsubasa
one final poke. "Guess we'll let Sleeping Beauty here lie. He'll get up
sooner or later. C'mon, Konatsu, let's see if any other excitement is in
store for tonight."
 They rejoined the party.

THE END ;) (Yeah, right.)

Author's Note: Yay, installment #3 is complete! I'm on a roll! :)

As you might have guessed, Onna-Ranma's costume was inspired by the outfit
s/he wore in "Nihao My Concubine." My evil mind just got this idea and well,
you know the rest. *ominous laughter*

Wondering where Shampoo, Mousse, and Cologne are? Don't worry--it won't be
long before they make their grand appearance in my fanfiction universe.

Installment #4 is "Her Heart Be False," which will be available as soon as I
write it (well, duh).

Vaya con Dios! :)

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