Fate of Love.

 

A fanfiction by Jason Wong,

 

inspired by Rumiko Takahashi's Ranma 1/2, and

Naoko Takeuchi's Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2. Meetings.

 

 

Present.

Standing frozen at the doorway, a pigtailed martial artist halted in a moment of indecisive contemplation.

“Dear, you’re blocking the way,” a kindly voice commented mildly from behind.

A moment that was thus quickly over, as he hurriedly trekked into the house.

His house – the original home of the Saotome Clan. Sighing somewhat despondently, Ranma let his gaze wander slowly across the living room – reminded that this, a place that was but a dim and ambiguous child’s memory, was his true home – the place that, in reality, he had spent more time in than any other dwelling.

The Tendo Dojo included. It seemed strange that scarcely a year had gone by, and he had accepted the large Tendo abode as being his own – along with its residents, trials, troubles, and occasional joys.

Blinking back to the here and now, the pigtailed martial artist belatedly realised that he was now alone, and that his mother had already headed up the stairs to what was presumably the second floor. Scampering after, he caught sight of the tail end of her kimono just as she disappeared around a doorway.

“This was your old room.” Nodoka stepped aside to allow her son full view.

He looked about the space – quick eyes drawing in the details like a sponge. Pale tan, and undecorated walls, a closet with a full length mirror on one door, a corner writing desk and drawers, brown desk lamp, papers, books, toy shelf, dark green waste bin...

“It looks a lot smaller than I remember.” Ranma murmured, scratching the back of his head curiously. Although in truth he had little recollection of anything...there was the nagging feel that everything...everything...

“You were a lot smaller then, as well,” his mother remarked, her voice only slightly teasing. “I have kept it as it was when you left, all those years ago.” And suddenly, following from her words, the Saotome matriarch seized her son in a fiercely loving embrace. “Welcome home, my son.”

Uncomfortable with the swift emotions, Ranma awkwardly returned the hug. “It’s...it’s good to be back, mother...Mom.”

And as quickly as she had seized her son, Nodoka promptly released him. After all, it wasn’t too manly to be getting all sissy about such matters. “You can put your things in the closet – all it holds is your uniform for the moment. I wasn’t sure exactly what...”

“Uniform?” Ranma blurted. “What uniform?”

Taking the interruption in good grace, she primly answered, “For school, of course.” Pointing to the neat stack of forms on his desk, she continued. “I’ve filled out everything for your registration, and already enrolled you – so all you have to do is sign them, and hand them up on your first...”

“School?” Obviously, the pigtailed boy wasn’t quite keeping up with the pace of things.

Drawing in a patient, and very motherly sigh, Nodoka took the confusion in stride. “Our local high school.” Eyes narrowing ever so slightly, she tilted her head suspiciously, “Or did the idea of school totally slip your mind?”

“Nononono...” Ranma held up his hands in defence – though of what, he wasn’t quite sure.

“A manly man is certainly not dim-witted and slow.” Her expression narrowed even further into a frown. “And I have seen your grade card, and your attendance record, and your conduct records, And I am not impressed.”

With each successive phrase, the pigtailed boy had backed further and further into the corner of his desk until he was more or less squatting on it, counting the number of katanas dancing around his mother’s head.

“You can take as long as you like to adjust, but at some stage you will be going back to school. Juuban Senior High has a much higher academic rating than Furinkan – and I pray that it will save what is left of your grades.” Leaving no room for argument, she marched out, only pausing outside his room. “Now it is very late, and we have all had a tiring night. Get some sleep, and we can worry about details tomorrow.” With that, the door was decisively shut.

Leaving Ranma, with protests along the line of, ‘It wasn’t my fault I kept getting attacked at school’, and ‘if Pops had let me rest a little longer, then I wouldn’t fall asleep in class so much’ still hanging in the verbal reflexes of his throat. But soon, the objections died with the realisation that there would be no more of that.

Not anymore.

*********

“Who is he kidding? – give it a week or so, and all his troubles will just be dragged to another district.” Nabiki idly twirled with a coin, slouching lazily against the classroom window.

“Profits are up, Nabiki-san,” one of her associates tentatively interjected. “There’s been lots of people interested in Saotome-san’s whereabouts, and the situation with his fiancées.”

Either unhearing or ignoring of the comment, the middle Tendo daughter continued to herself, “On the plus side, that means there’ll be less trouble over here.” Her gaze darkened mildly, causing an unfortunate student who happened to be caught in her line of sight to cringe – certain that she was sending him a message. “The downside is that, over the long term, my earnings will drop to the toilet.” As her stare deepened into scowl, the same student abruptly passed out, now convinced that life as he knew it was doomed.

And without thinking, Nabiki almost reflexively directed one of her subordinates to help the hapless student to the infirmary – for a reasonable fee of course.

“Tendo Nabiki!” Hmm, back to business. “A most glorious rumour has reached mine ears in passing, informing that the foul cur Saotome has fled in fear of my divine rage, beyond the borders of this province.” Of course, there were no first prizes to guess who the owner of that voice was.

With the barest of glances, the money schemer flicked a card – one that elicited a grunt of annoyance as Kuno Tatewaki snatched it out of the air.

Afternoon tea, ice cream, and 5000 Yen.

With such an extensive business history, this communication method had become far more efficient.

“Five thousand yen?” Kuno verily screeched at the exorbitant amount. “What became of your standard three?”

“It’s critical and Earth-shattering news.” Nabiki answered dryly. “And it’s an offer you can’t refuse, anyway.”

His pride wouldn’t allow the kendoist to acknowledge the political advantage that the socially inferior girl held over him, but nonetheless, “I accept. Three-thirty punctually, at the usual place of consumption.” And with nothing further to say, and the distinct possibility that if he remained, Nabiki would find some other way to extract even more money, Kuno made good on his exit.

The Tendo daughter’s attention, however, had already been diverted by the sight of her younger sister having lunch under the usual tree...alone.

Outwardly, the spirited girl looked to be holding up well under the mystified stares from those who had not already consulted Nabiki; or the understanding, sympathetic smiles from those who had.

Please be well, little sister.

 

*********

*********

 

Past.

With a brisk, sure step, and a pace that blatantly told all that they were risking the undivided wrath of the Princess of Mars if they dared to stop her, Arianne marched down the servant’s corridor.

She was late – and the Princess of Mars hated to be late.

The disguise field was quickly established in passing, and twenty steps later, the girl revealed herself to the outside world – well, outside the palace, but since it meant all the world to her – it could have been considered the same thing.

“A rose, for a rose?”

She blinked in astonishment as a single, perfect rose, still fresh on its long stem, was presented before her eyes. Caught in its unusual brilliance, it took her a moment longer to discern the bearer behind the gift. “Very gentlemanly tonight, are we not?” Taking the flower, and hiding her embarrassed blush behind it, she noted its luminescent colour. “White?”

“Yes indeed.” Equoris flashed her his killer grin. “Red is just so common and boring.” Waving it off, he instead let his gaze travel over her features. “Ah, a dark cherry red cloak, silver-grey dress, and you’ve left your head uncovered tonight – a rare treat for us all.”

Arianne smiled – unlike the other occasions where she had relied on the disguise field to paint her outward apparel, this time the messenger boy had described her true state of dress. Indeed, it was only a very marginal element of her transformation magic – the constituent that prevented the human mind from making the association, that prevented any from recognising her outright as ruler of this planet.

The Sailor solider was never able to answer the question of just why she had taken such a daring risk, showing as much of her true form to the courier as was practical. Perhaps, perhaps it was...

“So, Princess, where to forth tonight?”

“Equoris, just when have I ever dictated where we go?” She shook her head at the little rituals the pair had developed between them – notably that he always asked her that same question every night, and preceding that, a brief portrayal of her appearance. Highly exaggerated of course, but it was still rather flattering all the same. Although, in truth, it was another one of his curious habits that held the majority of her concern.

His almost steadfast refusal to ask of anything pertaining to her life within the palace – be it truth, or made up.

Smiling again, as he gallantly took her hand and led her like a lady down the causeway, Arianne pondered over this last item – this messenger of the nobility, after all this time, had never even asked for her name.

And hence, she had never given it.

“Equoris?”

“Yes, my fair maiden?”

The girl didn’t even blink at his words, so accustomed she had become to the way he so liked to refer to his ‘Princess’. “For how long have you known me?”

“One week, and two days – add another, if you include the very first time my eyes met your form.” He grinned, recalling the circumstances of that very first meeting.

Arianne mentally discarded the idle curiosity about how he had worked that out so quickly, and instead pursued her original intent. “And in all that time, what do you know of me?”

“Enough to know that I love you with all my heart,” he replied flippantly.

That was another issue that grated on her nerves – the way he playfully tossed that word around, especially of late. She and her fellow soldiers worked so hard to preserve what little love there was left in the System, and it was irking that one such as he would take these matters so lightly.

“The fact that you know nothing of me speaks to the level of your so-called love.”

Quite unexpectedly, there was no retort to her barbed statement, and that in itself caught her attention. His features were set in neutrality, as he pointed instead to a nearby inn. “The cuisine here is strictly authentic Southern Mercurian, and really very unique, if you care for the somewhat spicy flavours.”

Without waiting for her comment, he quietly pulled aside the curtained doorway for the both of them.

*********

He couldn’t understand it – why her simple, almost careless comment had rocked him so. Equoris was a firm believer of the creed that no one would ever know you quite as well as yourself.

And yet, he was unable to comprehend his own feelings on the matter. After all, this certainly wasn’t by far the first harsh remarks he’d ever received from a girl – just because the messenger was an infamously renown seducer did not mean that every girl had responded favourably to his overtures.

Equoris inwardly grinned to himself – there had been, what, two or three rejections in his record?

In any case the point was...now what was the point?...

“May I help you?”

The distinctly harsh invitation, coupled with the dreadfully familiar voice, promptly froze his blood. “B-b-brianna...f-fancy meeting you here of all places.”

And apparently his voice as well.

Arianne flinched in astonishment – this had to be the first time Equoris had ever been at a loss for words. Turning slowly, and sensing herself a moment of trepidation, she looked up to see what had disturbed him so.

The serving mistress. Very pretty – shoulder length ash blonde hair,  tall, aquiline,  and giving him the glare of death, if Arianne had ever seen one before.

Equoris was inwardly cursing his inattention – distracted by his princess, the messenger had led them both to the Sleeper’s Inn – the place where..where...she...

“Table for two I suppose?” In the moderately warm climate of Mars’s capital, a sudden chill had materialised in a six feet radius.

“Y-yes please, err...Ma’am.” Equoris uncomfortably scratched the back of his head.

As the pair were led to a table, the youth risked a glance towards Brianna. She was walking firmly, straight-backed, and eyes set forward like a soldier. But it was the whitened knuckles, clutching the writing stylus and pad so very tightly that her wrists were trembling, that gave away her true emotions.

I am a dead man.

“Do you know her from somewhere?” Arianne whispered secretively – although it was made quite clear in her tone that the question was rhetorical.

“Err, sort of – maybe we should find another locale to dine in tonight.” He flashed what was intended to be a reassuring smile – though from the girl’s perspective it came closer to a sickly grin.

“No – I think here is fine.” Now her eyes were narrowed as well – it was painfully obvious that something was up here, and since it pertained to Equoris, she was determined to discover its origins.

Reading her expression for all that it communicated, the courier immediately realised that, short of an earthquake, they weren’t going anywhere – and all that remained was to minimise the damage.

As the couple were seated, their serving waitress callously tossed the special’s list to the table. “It’s nice to see you treating a lady guest so well these days, Equoris.”

The said boy sank into his seat, looking across the table to gauge how his ‘guest’ had responded to that.

Suspicious posture, and if it was even physically possible, more of that ‘I’m going to get to the bottom of this’ glare.

I am *such* a dead man.

*********

Arianne couldn’t understand it – for close to a quarter of the hour, Equoris had been acting as if...as if...she paused, as a peculiar image popped into her imagination. As if he really needed to use the commode, but was trying to hide it.

And the serving mistress – now that was another sack of curiosities. Occasionally catching her eye from the darkened corner of her waiting post, the girl, Brianna was her name, looked for the world like she wanted to have a private word or five.

Standing where she was, the said girl was silently fuming. If she knew Equoris, and she did to some extent know him, the messenger boy wouldn’t let her near his new fling as long as he was physically able to get in the way. Brianna had considered just throwing etiquette to the winds and marching straight up to the table to tell him off, but...but, she just couldn’t do it.

Why? He deserved as much. Further thought on the matter was severed by the sight of one Squire Orian – a minor noble who commonly used the messenger to run errands.

Plus, he owed her a few favours.

Equoris’s relieved slump into his seat was poorly hidden, as Brianna finally left the room. Though the courier couldn’t understand himself why her presence bothered him thus – after all, with the number of girls he had ‘met’, there had been more than just a few encounters in the past. And in all, save the first few, he’d been able to competently handle himself and the resulting situations.

So why was he so worried now?

Studying the rich, dark purple eyes across the table that scrutinized him in turn, the realisation came quick. This time it was his princess – his easy to anger, hard to please princess. And then, in that instant, he made his decision.

“I...I think there’s something you shou...”

“Equoris! There you are.”

Both heads turned to see a well-dressed, blonde haired youth of about their age, or a little older, standing confidently by the curtain entrance. “Squire Orian, sir.”

The noble beckoned the messenger outside. “I need you for a moment.”

Equoris hesitated – officially he was available at all times, and the order had been direct – but...

“Don’t worry Equoris, it will be but a moment.” The comment hinted at firmness.

A moment’s deliberation, and the messenger smiled weakly at his companion. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Arianne nodded understandingly – from her vantage point, she had already noted that the serving girl had quietly snuck back in after this Orian character.

At least this way she was going to find out what all the fuss was about.

**********

There was but a moment’s guilt, as Brianna considered the underhandedness of her actions – a moment that was quickly and assuredly over. Though it had been weeks since her own parting with the damn playboy, the memory of the hurt was fresh – and she wished it not on that raven haired girl sitting by herself.

Getting the permissive nod from the innkeeper, the ash-blonde waitress took Equoris’s seat for her own. “There’s something I think you should know about your escort, miss.”

If Arianne was perturbed by the intrusion, she gave no outward sign. “I gathered as much, given the amount of trouble you went to for this private conversation.”

Taking the politely challenging banter in stride, Brianna leaned forwards to stare the other girl directly in the eyes. “It’s better to forget whatever you may feel for yonder messenger boy over there, and leave it at that.”

“Better for who?” The princess’s gaze narrowed in hidden defiance. “For you?”

And suddenly, the realisation hit that her aims had been mistaken. “You’re getting it wrong girl – I’m not here to claim him – I’m nothing to Equoris. I came here to warn you that pretty soon, you’ll mean nothing to him as well.”

Despite her stubborn confidence, Arianne felt a pang of morbid curiosity. “I’m not sure what you are trying to…”

“He’s a womaniser,” Brianna cut in, tired of the hints. “He does this to every girl he lays fancies on.”

“I don’t think...”

“Let me guess,” the pretty waitress interrupted again. “Every night, he’s promised to wait for you at some place – and every night he takes you to some special place about this city, and makes you feel like the most important person on this damn planet.” She didn’t need a reply to see a ring of recognition in the raven haired girl’s eyes.

“It does...”

“Have you been to Darmius’s pie stand?” Elbows on the table, the waitress propped her head on her closed hands. “I hear that’s one of his usual places.”

Finally, at last given the opportunity to speak freely, and Arianne could think of nothing to say. Weakly, even to her own ears, she mumbled, “So Equoris has courted a few others before me – that is no great crime.”

“Ha!” Without missing a beat, Brianna turned around to her employer, behind the bar table. “Master – this girl’s new to town here. What’s the name, ‘Equoris’ most famous for?”

Looking up from where he was filling an ale tankard, the innkeeper gave a full bellied laugh. “The Stallion? Aye, there’s a tale to be told – if only I had his looks back when I was a young ‘un.”

At her questioning look, he continued, “Equoris doesn’t like us talking about it too much – claims it gives him bad luck – but they don’t call him the Stallion just because of his fleet footedness.” Unaware that the boy had even been in the room, he placed a dinner plate down before chuckling conspiratorially. “You’d better watch out for him, missy – a fine lass like you would be just the sort of thing he’d take a fancy to.”

Arianne was motionless – with no recognition of having even comprehended the exchange.

Playing the act a little longer, Brianna added, “Tell her how many girls he’s known.”

He scratched his head in thought. “Damn me if I know – twenty, forty?” He laughed good-naturedly. “Too many for him to handle, that’s a fact...eh?”

Brianna turned at his last word to see the empty chair across the table.

*********

She was angry, to be sure – angry at being made a fool of, angry at being played with...angry...

Why was she angry? There hadn’t been anything – he was just a messenger of the nobility, a nobody. And she...

The Princess of Mars.

What had she been trying to achieve? Hiding from the reality of her station and course in life by playing a make-believe life here in the streets of her very own city.

And that’s what it had been – make-believe – and more than even she had guessed.

Father had been right – damn him for his self-righteous experience. The Princess of Mars had duties to her planet. Yes, duties. Furiously wiping away angry tears, she picked up the pace.

Yes, she could forget all about this and focus on her true calling.

*********

Equoris sprinted with all the speed that made him a master of his trade. Orian had sent him on a inconsequential errand – running a missive to the local watch. But that had been enough to tell him that it was set up – and Brianna had probably had more than her share of words to impart on his princess.

Lurching with a sinking feeling in his belly, the normally cocky messenger hesitantly drew aside the curtain, to see...

An empty chair.

Brianna was there, but after a moment of meeting his gaze, she quickly looked away. It had happened before, and it had clearly happened again, this night.

Equoris couldn’t blame her, or be even mildly angered for her part in it – the Gods knew he probably had it coming. “I haven’t given up you know,” he stated clearly across the noisy restaurant. “I am going to find her.” Tilting his head once, the boy promptly dashed away.

The ash-blonde waitress had seen his nod – a look of almost regardful respect shining in his bright blue eyes. Feeling an unanticipated wave of guilt, she quietly returned to the task of furiously scrubbing a free table.

He had never come back to her when they had parted – or rather after he’d left. Cursing as an errant splinter pierced her hand, she looked up, eyes turning distant in recollection. There was just something about him – the way that despite all of his duties, Equoris seemed so...so free...and untameable.

She’d fallen for that wildness in an instant – it wasn’t quite love, wasn’t quite friendship – but just to be near him, to taste the freedom that he emanated...

Whoever you are, girl – I must say I’m a little jealous.

*********

Oh Gods above. “Princess!!” the courier yelled, not even noticing the quizzical stares his behaviour was generating.

He couldn’t see her, but it was a guess that she had fled back to the Royal Palace.

And now, more than any time ever before, he was praying that his speed would be enough.

“Princess! Wait...”

Or at least his voice.

Oh God, oh God...

Ignoring the more sedate pedestrians that dotted the roadway, the messenger put on a fresh burst of speed – becoming to their eyes a vaguely green clothed blur. He knew he could make it – Equoris, the swiftest horse was the fastest runner of all his team.

“Princess!!”

He would make it...he would make it...he would...

The boy came to a standstill at the servant’s entrance to the Royal Palace of Mars.

No Princess.

Curious castle guards stared at the raggedly breathing teenage boy – a courier, by the runner’s symbol on his breast – as he stood, frozen for many long minutes.

Fingering the ornament that lay hanging from his neck, with only one thought coursing through his flaring mind.

Oh Gods no.

*********

Secure in the relative safety and comfort of her own quarters, Arianne collapsed into a stormily emotional pile on her spacious bed.

She was the Princess of Mars! A Sailor Senshi of the Silver Millennium. And yet, despite her powers, her skills, her command and responsibilities over the millions of souls in her domain...

...she was hurting.

Damn him, damn him... “Damn HIM!!”

“Damn who, dearest?”

Arianne whirled at the unexpected voice – trying, in the same motion, to clean the emotions held within, off her face. “M-mother, what is it?”

The princess might as well have handed over her feelings as a written statement. Crossing the floor, the former Senshi sat close, joining her daughter on the edge of the bed. “Talk. Now.” A direct command in poignant contrast to the comforting arm she placed about the smaller girl.

A mild confusion reigned for a few moments – ever since Arianne had taken the mantle of Ruler of Mars, the relationship between herself and her parents had shifted towards the more formal, less...affectionate. It was unspoken, and thus unacknowledged, but the canon was widely held that the powerful Sailor Senshi were somewhat above such needs.

Carina, former Soldier of Mars, smiled at the stiffly regal bearing of her only daughter – one that stubbornly refused to melt into the embrace of her mother, despite the tear tracks that marred her otherwise fair skin, and the barest of tremors that wracked her form. A trait of all Royal Mars daughters – obstinately elegant, unreachable pride.

A performance that was shortly destroyed, when hesitant, proudly purple eyes shyly looked up into more aged, experienced eyes, asking if it was alright.

And in that same look, Carina realised what it was. “Arianne, I was not aware that you were already courting.”

“What? No!” The girl blinked in shock, her response quick and reflexive.

Her mother continued as if oblivious. “You should have informed me – we would have spent so much time discussing the interplay between a man and woman. To better prepare, that is.”

The Princess of Mars, hurt temporarily forgotten, almost gagged at the idea of talking...talking about that with Mother...”

“Remove your thoughts from the gutter, dearest.” Carina admonished sternly – again correctly reading her daughter’s thoughts. “I was speaking of the more...mundane activities.”

This was getting too surreal – first her Mother shows up all concerned and loving, and now she wanted to talk of boys. “Mother, I am fine, really, it was a matter of little consequence.”

The lady’s mildly disapproving gaze spoke of her reluctance to believe that statement, though nonetheless she thankfully let the matter drop. Returning however, to her original intended topic, gave the old Regent pause. “I suppose, now is perhaps not the time to converse of the matter I came for...”

“No,” the young Senshi banished away the last of her recent memories. “Tell me now.”

Carina regarded her daughter for a moment, before carefully entering the subject. “In two days time, we will be having visitors, from the Moon in fact...”

“Serenity?” Arianne cut in. “I haven’t seen her for months!”

“Actually, no.” The former Ruler of Mars pointedly cleared her throat. “A General Jadeite, and his entourage.”

“General...” She didn’t know any Jadeite, so why would...

“He’s a far Eastern Officer, originally from Neptune, I believe – and has recently completed his third Lunar service in the Sea of Clouds...”

The details were only half-acknowledged, as the girl processed the unspoken ramifications – a visitor for her, a man, and it being commonly known that...

“...out of all the suitors who have so far shown interest, he seems to be the...”

“Mother!” the princess exclaimed in half-anger, as her realisations caught up with the present. Against her expectations, there was an extended pause, before Carina deigned to reply.

“I knew this was a bad time.”

“It’s not...” It wasn’t what? Caught between the insistence that she could cope, and the near instinctive desire to shun the issue being raised, Arianne was lost for words. But in the end, when it became clear that her mother was not going to continue, she sighed resignedly. “How many suitors have made overtures, since it became known that I was eligible.”

“Forty-three.” The motherly lady’s neutral gaze revealed nothing of what she may have considered of that.

Forty-three – forty three in  a week – she wasn’t entirely sure whether to be flattered or disgusted by the information. And those were probably just the ones who were bold enough to consider having a chance at her hand. The Princess of Mars had no false modesty about herself; fully aware that in the eyes of politics her hand in marriage was a prize to be coveted – both for her beauty, youth, and power.

She could’ve almost smiled to herself, had the situation not been so real. Beauty and youth – yes, no false modesty at all.

“And he was the best, Mother?”

“Between your father and I, we decided so – your father’s met him several times in fact, and speaks of a fine, and very cordial gentleman.” Decades of court intrigue experience, and she was having remarkable troubles reading her own daughter – her own stubborn and straightforward daughter.

Well, stranger things had happened.

“I suppose...” Feeling something inside of her die, perhaps the last remnants of her childhood, Arianne reluctantly finished off. “I suppose we shall all have to be ready then, in two days time.”

Or maybe it was something else.

“Cheer up, dear heart.” Tightening the embrace, Carina softly combed her hand through her child’s long hair – something she had not done in years. “The meeting may prove quite enjoyable, and if not – we need not make commitments.”

“Thank you...” The Princess trailed off, unable to find more words to say. I suppose...I suppose it will be a good distraction.

**********

If there was one thing Equoris knew about being a messenger, it was that if you acted as if you had a very good reason to be there, and knew exactly where you were going, you could be virtually anywhere, and avoid being interrupted by anyone who had the rank to do so.

With that in mind, he had purposefully marched straight through the servant gates of the Royal Palace, eyes set forward, and without so much as a glance in any direction save for his path. Officially, all visitors to the Princess’s abode were required to be registered and properly justified for their presence – especially with the fear of spies and assassins as of late. Despite this, the guards, who in better knowledge might have sought to intercept the unannounced youth, refrained from doing so in the minuscule fear that he might actually be on an important task that would risk retribution for any delays. And besides, the boy seemed to know his way around well enough – and knowledge spoke clearly of experience.

And thus, Equoris had managed to get well within the compounds, ignoring the fact that he had utterly no idea where he was. Oh sure, he had on occasion been required to run errands to the Phobos Deimos Castle, but those ventures never went beyond the outer walls, where all mail would be passed over to the internal Royal messengers. Indeed, by all rights, his raw leather jerkin, with its winged boot courier’s emblem should have marked him as an outsider to the Palace’s crimson jacketed messengers – and yet, no one had even looked close to bothering to check.

Somebody should really do something about the security here.

Of course, there were limits – it was common knowledge that absolutely no foreigners were allowed within the inner sanctum, where all the soldiers there were hand-picked and schooled to recognise, by sight, all the proper members of the central Palace. Which was the kind of knowledge that Equoris currently really wished he had possessed – at least for a certain somebody.

No name, no station, not even a vague idea about where she worked or what she did – all he had was her appearance, and...and...

Not for the first time, the courier boy lightly traced the outline of the hair clip through the material of his shirt. Sterling silver, and the symbol of the Royal House – the very fact that the crest of Mars had been engraved onto so trivial an item spoke of her placing in the hierarchy. Retrieving the ornament, he gazed at it for a moment – as if it possessed the ability to lead him back to its owner.

And noticed something curious. At first sight, Equoris had always assumed the engraving to be the circle and arrow emblem that all members – be they servants or soldiers – of the Palace wore. Bringing the hair clip up to eye level, and the tiny circle seemed not so much a circle, as a heart shape.

The revelation stilled his blood dead cold.

For to wear the heart and arrow was to serve the Princess of Mars herself.

I’ve been fraternising with a servant of the Princess...the ‘real’ Princess! And the realisation came two-fold – he would never be able to find ‘his’ Princess – not with her in close contact with Mars’s ruler.

So why was he still wandering around the castle? What were the chances of bumping into her now? I suppose...as long as I stay clear of the Royal family’s quarters...

“Here now, who are you?”

Equoris looked up, to find himself face to chin with a tall, imposing Palace guard.

Clothed in the red and gold of a Senschenal.

Now seemed a very good time to swear.

********

Left to herself once her mother had eventually departed, Arianne was somewhat at a loss as to what to do. It was late in the night, and by all rights, she should have summoned her maid to prepare for bed, and yet...

...and yet, she felt no desire for sleep.

“With the hours you keep, it’s a right mystery that you still have any of your mother’s beauty left in you, mi’lady.”

The Princess sighed despairingly at the acidly sharp nattering that signified the presence of her first advisor, Lord Diamon. Although stringently keeping the proper words of respect and deference to his ruler, there was rarely a time when the old man had anything positive to say.

And such scathing words – coming from a man, no less... “Diamon, you sound like...like Philia.”

That was her second advisor, and even more acidic than her first, if such a feat were possible. Perhaps it was because Philia also happened to be Lord Diamon’s wife.

Ignoring her retort, Diamon instead opted for another approach. “Enjoy this night’s foray, princess?”

She stiffened noticeably at that – always under the secure assumption that her ventures outside the Palace had been secret, the disclosure that this was not the case was...was... “H-how long have you known?”

This was awful – if others knew, her parents would be furious, and the courtiers would whisper – and come tomorrow the gossip would have spread throughout the entire city.

“You are my responsibility – Philia and I knew from the second day you went absent from the grounds.”

Fearfully, despite her power and station, the raven haired girl raised timid eyes to meet the aged gaze of the old soldier. “Do...does Father know?”

A narrowed, bemused stare answered for her. “Have you seen any broken furniture lately?”

“My lord Icarus would have locked you in your room till you reached your age of majority, had he known.” That voice had come from the door, informing Arianne that the worse had come to pass.

“Dear Gods of the Sun, I cannot deal with the both of you here.” The Princess looked to the heavens as if they would somehow conspire to send angels to rescue her.

Philia appeared unruffled by the comment. “And I think the shock would have been his death, if he knew what transpired outside these walls.”

Arianne was more or less ready to welcome any more misfortunes – since today seemed to be the day for it.

“A fine handsome specimen of a lad, if I might say so.” The second advisor adopted the air of a stricken schoolgirl – which might have worked, with perhaps a few hundred years of age removed. “Rather flighty – but he has all the right items in the right places.” Grinning toothily, she made a grasping gesture with her hands.

“If you are going to condemn me, please at least make it swift.” Hating to be reminded about that...that boy in any fashion, she looked ready to leave her own rooms, if that’s what it took to escape the unwelcome commentary.

“Ah, a hand written document.” Without waiting for an invitation, Diamon had plucked a half finished parchment from her personal writing desk.

Those words caught the raven haired Princess off-guard. That article had been for...for...grrrrr damn his memory again. And just as Arianne had darted back to snatch it from his hand, the advisor, in a seemingly innocent act, had flicked it to his wife. “Philia dear, see who this is addressed to.”

“Ooohh you two, give that back now!”

“My, a familiar name – and indeed he must be a promising student to warrant such an invitation outside of the usual convenes.” Turning to better direct the dim lamplight to the document, and incidentally pulling it out of the Princess’s reach, the Second Advisor continued. “As I took it, a prospective youth was required to do at least three years of City Watch duty, before being allowed to apply for this.” The sheet was abruptly tossed back to the old man. “Of course this is more your department, husband dear.”

“Yes indeed.” Diamon cleared his throat thoughtfully. “Perhaps I should look more closely into this.”

She was a personal defender of the Queen – one of the most powerful warriors in the System – quicker, stronger, and nimbler than most ‘normal’ people would even dream, and yet she was, for some inexplicable reason, unable to wrest the damn document from these two annoying pests. “I command you to return that!”

Instantly, the parchment was dutifully handed back. Summoning what was left of her haughty pride, Arianne muttered disdainfully, “Thank you.” And with no further comment, quickly exited her bedroom.

It was only the knowledge that the pair had potentially damaging information over her head, that prevented the Princess from ordering the both of them back to their own quarters.

And as dutiful advisors were wont to do, Diamon and Philia doggedly pursued their ruler. “You are aware that matters of state and rule are not to be influenced by personal issues.”

“Yes, I am, and they were not, and will not be, for this case.”

“I would hope so.” Diamon carped approvingly. “This nobody from nowhere would be a disgrace to this castle’s proud history.”

“Equoris is not...” But Arianne caught herself short of finishing the retort. Suddenly not caring if they exposed her nightly excursions or not, she added. “You are both dismissed. Good night.”

Taking her annoyance in stride, the duo turned as one, and headed down the corridor, though it appeared Philia couldn’t resist a parting shot. “I am glad you are finally coming to your senses, Princess – in times like these we would all dislike a sub-standard security here.”

**********

“I’d have words to say about the security you keep here, your lordships.” Despite being suspended by his arms between two burly Palace guards, Equoris managed a cheeky grin. As a leather gauntleted hand viciously cuffed him to the side of the head, he decided that perhaps it had not been such a good idea.

“Silence, you whelp.” True to his duty, the Senschenal directed the captors down to the nearby stair vault. “Imprison the boy in one of the holding cells – we’ll have someone interrogate him later.” Breaching the inner Palace was a known, and serious offence, and the guard was determined to let the commoner remember it. Turning back to the said youth, he continued. “I’ll want to know, boy, just how you...”

“Senschenal, what is the meaning of this disturbance?”

Whirling at the implied challenge to his authority, the soldier found himself standing before...before...

...Before somebody who definitely had more than enough authority to challenge him so.

“Y-y-your M-Majesty!”

Mildly irritated by the commotion that was blocking her passage, Arianne tilted her head to the side to look over the shoulder of the Senschenal.

To see...see none other than the courier boy himself, restrained with both arms held firmly behind his back, and standing tall despite the purpling bruise near his left eye.

**********

Struck by an odd mix of dread and awe at those two words uttered by the guard, Equoris only barely resisted the urge to hide behind his two restrainers.

The Princess of Mars was here. The Princess of Mars – the sole ruler of his home world.

And for the second time this night, the messenger boy was left without words to say. Unable to actually see the Princess behind the broad frame of the Senschenal, he could only guess by her tone what her attitude towards the interruption might have been.

“W-we found this boy wandering around the inner...”

“Unhand him.”

Surprised at being interrupted, and further startled by the quiet command, the commander was slow to respond. “Y-your Majesty, I...”

“Hands off him, now.” Her voice was still soft, but with the ring of steel that clearly showed she did not expect to have to raise her voice any further to achieve instant obedience.

Apparently, the two guards agreed – for they had quickly relinquished their hold without any further prompting required from the Senschenal.

“Highness, I...”

Not having the patience to wait out what he might have to say, the Princess waved off his words. “Thank you Senschenal, I will handle the rest of the matter.” She briefly regarded the commander with her ‘get going now’ look – one that he promptly obeyed, his two subordinates quickly following after. It was against the Imperial rule – in fact it had been contrary to her own edict to release suspects from the hands of the Royal Guard, but nobility would always be nobility, and he wasn’t about to waste brain power trying to figure out their contradictions.

*********

The normally brash messenger youth found himself in somewhat of a quandary – having never in his life ever dreamed that he would ever in his life personally get within fifty metres of the Princess of Mars herself. And now that she was by his side, or rather he by hers, Equoris was dreadfully unsure as to the protocols involving courier nobodies and supreme world rulers.

Although she was leading the way, walking behind her seemed inappropriate – implying that she was some sort of hired guide sent to lead him out of this mess. Walking in front of her was worse, suggesting to those who may have outwardly seen the pair, that he was attempting to direct the Princess within her own palace.

And walking by her side? It would...it would feel as if he were her escort – he, a courier, and her the Princess of Mars.

The Princess of Mars! Still floundering in his dilemma, the usually graceful youth shuffled uncomfortably between the three relative positions – continuing to do so until finally, fed up with the unnecessary movement, she growled in annoyance, “For Heaven’s sake, cease your shambling and walk with some dignity.”

That stopped him quicker than a slap to the face. Giving up, and hoping that the Princess approved, he settled awkwardly at what happened to be the current position – by her side.

Many long minutes of silence followed – the efficient clack of Arianne’s heels in sharp contrast to the quiet peace of the late night. If the various soldiers they passed on night shift thought anything of the unusual sight, they revealed nothing more than following the brisk passage of the two as far as their eyes would allow without head movement. Equoris himself felt more than a little worried about his situation – sincerely hoping that he was being led out of the castle, as opposed to one of its less hospitable locations.

And why on Mars had the Princess chosen to perform this task herself, as opposed to directing any one of the thousands of people under her command to do so? His vibrant imagination came up with a wide variety of reasons – none of them providing any optimism for his circumstances.

“You were foolish to venture so far uninvited into my domain,” the girl suddenly spoke up, as if there had always been a conversation running. Though, Senshi of Fire that she was, her voice was cold enough to freeze bone marrow.

And startled after nearly ten minutes of silence, it took the messenger a while to realise that a reply was expected of him. “I...uh, yes it was very foolish of me...your Royal Highness.” The last phrase was blurted as a semblance of decorum returned to his addled mind.

He might have sworn he saw the Princess of Mars’s eyes roll in exasperation, though her face was mostly turned away at the time. Finding himself unintentionally trying to study her features further, the messenger boy almost audibly whipped his eyes back to the front.

Things were not good for Equoris – third class messenger of the nobility.

Ignoring of the boy’s discomfort, and resolved in the thought that he deserved every bit of it, Arianne could have marvelled at the change in his demeanour this night. His words, so very similar to the Equoris she knew outside the palace – right down to the honorific ‘Royal Highness’, were so...so spineless she would never have imagined they had originated from the same person.

Hmpf, remove the streetwise ‘I’m the king of my domain’ attitude, add a little threat of authority, and what were you left with? A knock-kneed, overcooked blob of jelly. She very nearly laughed at the sweat beading on the poor boy’s forehead – Equoris was such a...such a...wuss.

Arianne never really considered herself one for petty grudges – well for matters outside of a certain Princess Serenity, that is – however, that aside, seeing the boy who had played her emotions like a troubadour on his lyre – the brash, self-assured know-it-all, handsome charmer...

Ahem*  Somehow, to see him now on the other end of the stick, scared to wetting his pants that she was going to execute divine punishment, made her feel...good.

Really good – the kind of good that you sort of feel guilty about, but it’s much too good to give up.

“Have you devised any reasons yet as to why you were trespassing in the inner sanctum?” She had made sure to use the word ‘trespassing’ – it added a sufficient threat of official crime and punishment.

“Err...yes, your Highness?” He half stated/half asked hopefully – there really wasn’t a ‘proper’ way to answer that question. The thought that the truth would sound pointedly ridiculous to the Princess of Mars, came along the heels of the realisation of just who he had been originally looking for, and how she probably related to the Senshi next to him.

Princess Mars would know the identities of all her close servants, and most certainly be able to recognise all of them on sight. And the raven-haired, crimson cloaked girl had been wearing her personal crest.

“Y-your Majesty, if you would...deign to hear a...request.” He licked suddenly dry lips, but nonetheless continued at her extremely slight nod. “Do you know of a...member of your personal staff – a girl with long, dark hair...” noticing the Princess’s own hairstyle, he added, “...much like yours?”

Arianne’s lips lifted into a suggestion of a smirk – though such situations had been extremely rare, the occasions when one could see the effects of the Senshi disguise field were always amusing. Equoris could have vocally given her an entire description of the girl he had met outside, from head to toe, and the magic would never allow him to make the connection.

“Does this girl have a name?” Of course, she already knew the answer to that. “It would make it easier to identify her.”

Genuinely embarrassed, the boy scratched the back of his head. “I’m sorry, your Highness, I never...uhh got around to asking.” Though it was clearly wiser to have shut up then and there, he couldn’t help pursuing the matter, Princess of Mars that she was. “She’s about your height, your Highness, slender, purple eyes – in fact...” his face screwed up in perplexity – something nagging at the back of his mind, like a veritable itch on the brain.

Unwilling to endure the almost desperate shine in his eyes, Arianne looked away, masking the movement as a thoughtful pose. Inwardly coming to a swift decision, she turned back. “There is no one I know of that matches that description.”

“Oh.” Wilting a little, Equoris gave up on pursuing the issue any further.

And the girl leading him was definitively sure that this was the best way to leave the subject, and yet... “You enter the Royal Palace, risk arrest and interrogation, all to find this...this servant?”

A servant to you, perhaps. A personal aide of hers would have socially outranked him by a good twenty levels. Nonetheless, now was certainly not a proper time to make issue of it. “She was...she was...” special, significant, somebody... “...somebody, I wanted to find, that’s all.” Even he could feel the inadequacy of the reply.

“A month ago, an assassin spy was apprehended not far from where you were found – suffice to say the Guard are still tenacious, and with good reason.” Before he could be given the opportunity to inquire further into matters outside his business, she added, “We are here.”

Looking about, Equoris realised he was standing at the beginning of the East courier’s passage.

“I trust you can find your way from here?”

“Of course, your Highness.” Confused, and unsure how to portray gratitude to his supreme ruler, the boy awkwardly bowed.

For a moment, Arianne had expected him to kiss her hand, like he had done so every time they had previously parted. Remembering herself, and her station, she acknowledged with a nod. “Be sure never to enter the private locales of this Palace again – or fortune may perhaps not favour you so well, as this time.” She hesitated to add that if he tried sneaking in at such late hours, an archer might very well use him for target practice before anyone was the wiser.

The youth bowed again. “I thank my Highness for her generosity.” And, given her words, he was unwilling to test his luck any further, and so took off at good speed down the corridor.

For a few moments, Arianne stood unmoving, watching as the image of the runner disappeared behind the closing secondary gates. Unconsciously, her right hand fingered the neatly folded document, hidden within a pocket of her dress.

Matters of state and rule are not to be influenced by personal issues.

Pulling the hand-written parchment out, she briefly scanned it, as if her own handwriting could provide the clue as to the wisest course. And whether or not this was true, the decision came quickly.

*********

Marcos reeled under the furiously violent attacks from his opponent, methodically giving ground as Equoris wildly wielded his foil as if it were a broadsword. The two were at one of their infrequent training bouts, both practicing their sword skills – though it seemed for one at least, it was more a test of sheer strength and tenacity than skill.

The few other occupants to be found in the public sparring centre this early in the pre-dawn stared in bemused amusement as the tallish youth almost comically chased his heavier rival across the floor. Marcos himself could only inwardly sigh, even as he deflected an over powered thrust, at the pointlessness of the exercise - strength had never been Equoris's strong suit, and he was making a right fool of himself fighting as thus.

With the ease that had earned the Squire the reputation as one of the most competent of blade-wielders amongst the non-enlisted trainees, the young noble stepped into a counter thrust, throwing Equoris's foil off with his arm-guard, and promptly skewered the messenger in the eye. Or at least it would have been so, had this not been a practice session.

Pulling his face guard off, Marcos commented blandly, "That was an awful performance." Even now, he thought he could detect a red-faced scion of frustration behind the darkened metallic gauze that protected his companion. "I haven't seen such blatant, untempered fencing since, well since..."

"Let's just leave it at that, shall we?" The mask was roughly yanked off, and against the expected visage of anger, the Squire was surprised to see an expression tending more towards depression.

He took one, long examination of the normally sprightly courier, and released a bereaved moan. "Oh for the love of Serenity..."

"What?" Equoris growled tiredly, his tone more harsh than intended. "So you're a better and more constant swordsman than I – is that such a great revelation?"

Ignoring the barbed words, Marcos answered with a query of his own. "So you were rejected this time – that’s unusual for you." Five years of adolescence, and the Squire was very much more accustomed to seeing the opposite occur in his friend's relations.

"Am I that transparent?" Waving off the response, he answered for the both of them. "Yes, yes I know. I know that you can read my moods better than myself - as you never fail to remind me."

"Your 'princess'?"

"Yes, my princess." He gave a rueful smile. "She didn't even leave me with a parting farewell."

Taking both their practice foils in a silent sign of an ending to their training, Marcos frowned thoughtfully. It was rare indeed to see 'Equoris the Stallion' in a sour mood over a parting with a damsel, especially considering his penchant for seeking other lady companions to cover the temporary void. Securing their gear safely in the weapons locker, he said as much. "I'm sure you'll find yourself another interest soon enough." Grudgingly jealous, though he'd never ever admit it to the somewhat egotistical youth, he continued. "With your...talents, there will be little trouble involved with that."

"Marcos..." Equoris left off wearily, "I've tried to tell you before - this is so very different."

"Just from memory alone I can recall three separate incidents where you presented me with the very same words." His tone was as dry and sceptical as ever.

And whatever he may have felt within, however he may have tried to convey it to the outside, Equoris was forced to agree. Morosely, he wondered, that if it was this difficult to convince his best friend, how so would he fare with his raven haired princess herself?

His Princess. He, a ranking nobody at some indefinable placing between commoner and nobility still thought of her, a high-standing palace servant, as his own.

As her temperament had constantly advocated, and now more than ever, did the haughtily beautiful girl remind him of the folly of presuming that she belonged to anyone other than herself.

Reluctantly turning to his long-time companion, the messenger offered an appreciative smile. "My thanks for meeting me here. Sorry I couldn't offer a more challenging sport."

Shrugging off the apology, Marcos gestured for the two of them to head for the baths. “All training is good training.” Gathering his belongings from the wooden locker, he continued. “I have less than a week before Father officially presents me into the Palace Court. Then ‘twill be a month of Palace duty, then off to...”

“The Moon.”

“...that’s so,” the Squire agreed ruefully. “The Moon.”

Entering the steamy atmosphere of the wash-down atrium, the pair got to work cleaning the sweat and grime in companionable silence. “I suppose I won’t see you for years after that.”

“The first term of office for a Royal Legionnaire is five years, and then...” the Squire trailed off, letting his head drop tiredly to the head board, despite the early hour. “..and then I would be expected to join the Lunar Guard after that.” He didn’t need to continue the explanation – any youth with any connection to the armed forces knew what that signified.

A member of the Queen’s personal Guard effectively became a citizen of the Moon, and that meant severing ties to their home planet, and remaining on the Capital world permanently.

“I suppose then...” Though intellectually he had always known that would be expected of a son of a Lunar Knight, he had never imagined... “I suppose that means we have but a week and a month left.”

And now, for the very first time since discovering his long-time friend’s good fortune, after his incomprehension about that same youth’s reservations, Equoris finally understood.

 

**********

**********

 

Present.

Nodoka very nearly burst out laughing at the sight of her son descending the stairs. Well, it wasn’t the fact that he was descending – more the case that he shambled about as if swimming in a bag of itching powder.

“When I said you were going to school – I didn’t mean right away, dear.”

Instead of answering, the uncomfortably shifting boy instead grumbled, “I don’t like these clothes.”

“Is it the size? I thought I ordered the correct fit.” She stood up to assess their cut. “It looks fine to me.”

Ranma tugged at the high collar – starched and buttoned to the very top. “That’s not it – the shirt makes me look like a strait-jacket dork.”

Making a full circle around her son, the Saotome matriarch stared as if assessing a mannequin at a window shop. Certainly the Juuban boy’s navy blue long sleeved shirt and matching trousers were more formal than that of Furinkan’s short sleeve attire. However, in her woman’s judgment, he struck a very dashing figure – broad shoulders filling out the dark suit very nicely indeed.

“I think it makes you look very handsome.” Nodoka managed to convey the correct proportion of pride and that ethereal ‘You’re putting up with it, and that’s final’, hint that was common to all effective mothers.

And in concert with that, the pigtailed fighter reluctantly nodded his acceptance – although how reliable the opinion of a woman who considered peeping on girls as manly, remained to be seen. “Anyhows I’m gonna go today.” Under her questioning gaze, he shrugged indifferently. “ It’s not as if I’ve got anythin’ better to do.” And with that he waved goodbye and headed for the door, grabbing his bag along the way.

“What about your lunch?” the somewhat bereaved mother called.

The replying shout was already distant. “I can buy it for today.”

“Make sure you remember to register first.” Though she doubted he could’ve heard her by then.

And riding on that thought was the realisation that he probably wasn’t even aware of the location of the school. And he didn’t have any books either, and she’d neglected to inform him of the arrangements for his...unique curse.

“Oh...dear.” The Saotome matriarch refrained from the sudden urge to slap her forehead in frustration.

*******

Aino Minako – sixteen years of age, part time high schooler, part time Senshi of Love was also, at the moment, something that she very rarely was in her relatively short life.

Aino Minako was early.

It wasn’t really her fault – following her hair scraping exam scores that by some Kami’s divine fortune allowed her to enter Senior high without an armada of make-up exams in hot pursuit – her loyal cat and retainer, Artemis, had taken it upon himself to make sure that the same was not repeated this year.

And that meant the Senshi of Venus was required to wake up on time. Of course, she had disagreed with this notion quite forcefully – and might have succeeded in getting that precious extra half-hour of sleep in the morning, had the cat not taken to substituting an alarm clock with tap dancing on her face.

Blearily, Minako spat out an errant strand of cat fur – she really had to talk to the feline about washing his feet more often if he was going to keep this up. Looking towards the early morning Sun, she sighed resignedly – it was just impossible to appreciate the subtler niceties of the new day when you were tired, hungry, annoyed, irr...hello?

******

Despite his shortcomings, there were a number of characteristics that Ranma envied in his sometime friend, oftime rival, Hibiki Ryouga.

His absolute directionless, however, was certainly not one of them.

“Where the hell am I now?” the pigtailed martial artist muttered exasperatedly – a far cry from the usual scream to the heavens that could be occasionally heard pervading the airwaves. Maybe he should have checked with his mother at least to find out the school’s address, maybe brought some money to buy lunch.

Or maybe, he should have at least brought something along other than a mostly empty bag, for his first day at school – or at least it would be, provided he could find the damn place.

Deciding, in the end, that one direction was as good as any other, the pigtailed boy headed off down the street.

*******

There were several interesting facts floating about in the blonde girl’s mind, that were rapidly formulating into a very good thing.

First off, the guy was dressed in her school’s uniform – but he didn’t match up with any of the ‘cute boy’ databases in her mental catalogue. A new student then.

This supposition was further bolstered by the fact that, as well as appearing to be very cute, he also appeared to be very lost – which was in turn bolstered by the fact that he was walking in the opposite direction to Juuban high.

Translation: a cute (emphasis on the word ‘cute’) transfer student who had never been to her school, and would thus be requiring someone to show him around – plus none of the other girls had seen him yet.

More directly – Aino Minako was the first girl to see him.

Well, you know what they say – ‘early to bed, early to...ahhh whatever.’

Immediately transforming into...into ‘hunt the cute boy, ninja stealth’ mode the Senshi of Love started recording features – height, shoulder breadth, face, muscles, butt, hands...all with such detail and finesse as to put Sailor Mercury’s cyber visor to poor shame.

Okay, waking up aside – today was a good day.

********

“Hmm, maybe I should just ask somebody.”

“Do you need any help there?”

The martial artist whirled at the unexpected query, and found himself staring straight into innocent, and very blue eyes. The girl was leaning forwards towards him, hands clasped behind her back – face framed by her luxuriantly long blonde hair.

Suppressing the urge to transform to ‘run from the cute girl’ mode, Ranma instead opted for the somewhat wiser choice of following up on his voiced intentions.

“Would you happen to know where Juuban Senior High is?”

Minako smiled wryly. “Since you’re wearing my school’s uniform, I guessed you’d be wanting to go there.” With ease borne of long practice, she expertly slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “I’m going myself, so I can take you there.”

Ranma shifted uncomfortably – somewhere, deep inside the recesses of his Martial Arts brain, danger signals were blaring full klaxons.

Unfortunately, being the social master that he was, the pigtailed fighter failed to discover just why they were doing that. Rubbing the back of his head, he grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about this.”

Oohh he has a kawaii smile too!

“I’m Aino Minako, by the way – what’s your name? Are you a transfer student? Where are you from? How old are you?”

Not feeling quite at ease with the vaguely manic light that was dancing in the girl’s eyes, he nonetheless tried to answer in order. “Welll, the name’s Saotome Ranma, yes I am, and from here originally, but just came from Nerima...errr...I’m sixteen....”

*********

Saotome Ranma may have had serious social problems, but there was certainly nothing lacking in the martial arts department.

And Saotome Ranma, the martial artist, could easily smell ‘predator’ from a mile away – especially if it was right next to you. He got the distinct impression that the blonde girl had been methodically stripping him of his clothing, piece by piece, with her roving predator eyes for the past five minutes or so – though later on, he passed it off as the work of an over-paranoidal imagination.

Minako had been right down to the cute guy’s trousers before they had unfortunately (at least in her opinion), reached his destination. “Well, here we are, the registration office. Do you have your enrolment forms with you?”

Before he could answer, the Soldier of Love had already plucked the said sheets out of his fingers. “Ahh,” her gaze gleamed almost feverishly. “I see you’re in my class.”

As hungry eyes rose to meet his own, the pigtailed boy so very wished his school uniform had been plain white – then maybe it might have been possible to blend in with the wall. “H-heh, I guess so.”

“Well then,” she gave him her most winning, and admittedly very attractive, smile. “I’ll be seeing you soon, then.” Brushing back her long gold hair, the hungry tigress girl finally made her exit.

And just outside the school registration office, a pale-faced, slack-jawed martial artist could be seen wiping away the mild sheen of sweat from his troubled brow.

That had been scary.

“Come in, please.”

Caught off-guard, and not even realising that he’d unthinkingly knocked on the door, the martial artist stumbled rather clumsily into the room.

The registrar gazed very critically at the boy’s record – most notably his previous school.

Furinkan.

It was the Japanese school board equivalent of a chemical weapons factory – ie. bad things were made in there, and only bad things came out of there as well.

And here he had before him, a boy who had come out of that school.

“Hmm.” And Saotome Nodoka, the lady who had applied, had seemed like such a nice lady too.

“Your record is very...extended.”

Master of martial arts, an unbeatable, uncontested fighter, and yet Ranma found himself wilting under the introspective glare that was focused solely in his direction. The fact that the man was staring at him slit-eyed through thick, steel rimmed glasses, made it all the more disconcerting.

“Well, Saotome-san, I suppose the whole intent of your transferring here was to start anew, so I will give you the benefit of my faith and trust.” The glare hardened into an unmistakable ‘I’m onto any tricks you may be planning’ frown. “But don’t be misguided into thinking that we here in Juuban run by the same standards as your Furinkan – any troubles, and there will be no hesitation to have you out of here.”

“S-sure, no p-problems, sensei.” The poor boy was veritably shaking in worry. “I’m not here to cause trouble...honest.” He could just picture how his Mother would react if there indeed was trouble.

Her, and her katana.

“Now boy,” the registrar rubbed his mouth, hiding a mild pang of shame – he hadn’t meant to scare the youth so. “So long as you make credible efforts to keep to our rules, you should fit in here fine.”

So saying, the interview settled into the more routine matters – Ranma’s class allocations, homerooms, P.E. group, and such. Gratefully accepting the documents, the pigtailed fighter was very nearly out of the office, before noticing that there were two copies of every form in his hand.

“Uhh, sensei...”

“Oh yes,” the elderly man stood up in sudden recollection. “It completely slipped my mind – make sure you have Tendo-san fill out the other half of those forms, and have them back to me within the week.”

In that instant, Ranma’s blood had turned to ice. “T-tendo...”

Seeing the boy’s crinkled brow, and interpreting it as confusion, the teacher paused to reiterate. “Tendo Ranko – according to what your mother said...” he looked down to confirm the notes. “...she will be doing a guest part-time syllabi here – highly unconventional, but then...” he trailed off, widely held hands indicating that this was outside his jurisdiction.

“Err...right, thanks sensei.” Fearing that remaining here any longer might reveal his ignorance in something that he was clearly expected to know about, Ranma made good on his exit.

Outside, and alone in the corridor, the Anything Goes heir took a moment to more closely peruse the documents. At every place where there was a ‘Saotome Ranma’ pre-printed on the sheets, there was a duplicate of it, with the name ‘Tendo Ranko’ in its stead.

Which told him two things – Ranko was apparently going to be doing at least a few day’s worth of high school – their attendances together making a full curriculum. How his mother had managed to get that through the school board was one of those divine, and unquestioned mysteries.

But more importantly – she fully intended for him to keep the dual nature of his forms a secret.

Ranma smiled appreciatively at that – it also explained why three thermos flasks and a drink bottle had been stuffed into his bag.

*******

Kino Makoto sighed wearily into her hands. Minako had spent the greater part of the time before first class, prancing about with a self-satisfied smirk that told all that she knew something that they would wish they knew, had they known about it.

Or something like that. The point was however, the blonde haired Senshi of Venus was fairly simple in her interests – somewhere along the line of sports and/or boys. And since those, amongst others, were included amongst the brunette’s own hobbies, she had to admit to no small amount of curiosity. Though given the word ‘subtlety’ was not exactly in Minako’s vocabulary, they’d all be probably finding out...out...ooohhhh boooyyyy.

Literally.

“Class.” The teacher coughed authoritatively. “I’d like to introduce a new member of our class.” He glanced down to briefly consult the papers. “Saotome Ranma, recently from Furinkan High School down at Nerima Ward.” He paused briefly to let the evil cackling emanating from somewhere near Aino’s seat die out. “Let’s all make him feel welcome.” A general murmur of assent drifted across the classroom, along with none too subtle speculations about his background, and availability.

The said boy was still staring wide-eyed around the classroom. So *this* is what a normal school is like. No morning challenges, no people breaking through the walls, and even no cold water. He inwardly smiled to himself. I could get used to this.

The teacher’s thoughts ran on another train – more along the lines of ‘I could have sworn that our only free table was near the back, and not in front of Aino’s desk.’ Ah, no matter. “Saotome, you can sit in front of Aino-san. And can I have a volun...”

“I’ll show him around the school during break!” the red-bowed blonde chirped merrily.

Silently observing the entire scenario from afar, Mizuno Ami, the oftime Senshi of Mercury, buried her head in her advanced pure mathematics text, as if it were her suffering all the embarrassment that Minako should have been feeling – were she anyone other than Minako.

“Err, thank you Aino-san.” The teacher answered dubiously. Seeking refuge in the familiar, he commandingly cleared his throat. “Well, let’s not dally – class, let’s start on chapter twelve, page two twenty-three...err, yes Aino-san you can share your text books with Saotome for today.”

“Heh, sorry about this.” Ranma grinned thankfully.

Minako was too enthused with her own good fortune to fully register his words.

*******

“It’s not fair, Mina-chan.” her friend and leader, Usagi whined. “You could’ve at least given us a chance!”

“Umm, remember Mamoru,” Makoto tactfully reminded. However, turning to the other blonde, she added in mock annoyance, “That was low though, hogging him all to yourself.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Minako wagged her finger sagely. “The early bird gets the germ.”

“Ahh...Mina-chan...”

“And speaking of which,” she continued, unhearing of Ami’s tentative mumble. “It’s my duty to look after our new transfer student, and Saotome Ranma seems to be without a lunch today.” She winked suggestively at the tall brunette. “Mako-chan, you usually keep a second bento box nowadays don’t you?”

“Welll...” In truth, she did, but it was mostly in case Usagi still felt hungry after her own meal – which was practically always – which was why she had started bringing more food on a regular basis.

Sensing that the second course to her midday meal was on the verge of disappearing, Usagi turned watery, begging blue eyes to the tall girl. “Mako-chan...y-you wouldn’t.”

“Oh grow up, Usagi – the poor guy’s going to be starving for the rest of the day – Mako-chan, did I mention that he knows martial arts, just like you?”

“B-but, the pickles, and the sushi, a-and her spiced...”

The odango haired girl was too late however, since Makoto, now intent on at least getting to know the new boy, was already approaching him – spare lunch in hand. Crossing the grounds briskly, the group managed to catch the tail end of her introduction.

“...ino Makoto, welcome to Juuban High.”

“Err, thanks a lot,” the boy answered uncertainly. Ranma being Ranma, with the life history and experience of Ranma – this many kawaii girls in one place was not, contrary to popular belief, a good thing.

And that scary blonde...Eino or something like that, was with them.

“I noticed you didn’t have any lunch with you, and since I happened to have a spare...” she laughed sheepishly, only then feeling the peculiarity of keeping more than one meal.

Although actually quite accustomed to being offered food, the boy was definitely very hesitant – despite his fondness for the Art of ‘Anything Goes eating’, long memory recalled that, in the long run, there was never a time when good things had come out of accepting food from a girl.

“I couldn’t accept this...it’s your...”

“Yes, you can,” she blurted nervously, holding the box out to him.

Somehow managing to find her way next to the pigtailed martial artist, Minako added her encouragement. “It’s quite easy – all you have to do is say ‘yes please’.”

“Don’t force him, Mina-chan – he doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to.” Usagi tentatively chimed in. My sushi and pickles with sweetened soya sauce!!

Meanwhile, the new student was having his own dilemmas. Principle and experience said it would probably be better (ie. safer) to forgo the generous offering; on the other hand, elements originating lower, in the stomach region, were protesting that he was hungry, and that food smelled extremely very good.

“Ah, well...that is...” Sigh*, in the end there was no denying the Saotome stomach. “Well, if it’s really okay...”

“Sure!” Makoto beamed radiantly. “I hope you like it.” Taking the opportunity, she retrieved her own lunch, and took a seat down on the grass next to him.

Positive that there was some hidden downside to accepting this meal, but resolved to deal with it in the old and tested ‘Anything Goes take it as it comes’ technique, Ranma unwrapped the bento, and...and...

“Kami-sama...” Makoto breathed in amazement, her words echoed in the expressions of all present. Looking to Usagi, who had started her own lunch, and back to the martial artist who looked well on his way to finishing it, she added, her voice laced with awe, “There’s two of them.”

“Thish schtuff ifsh graescht.”

“Ahh...that’s good.” She tried to superimpose a bright smile over the shock. Trying to change topics, she added, “Minako mentioned that you knew martial arts.”

It would have seemed impossible, at the rate he was going, that anything would stop his feasting.

That statement, however, managed to do just that. Looking up suspiciously, his eyes peering just over the rim of the bento, the pigtailed boy queried guardedly, “Why do you want to know?”

“Oh.” A little disconcerted by the mild hostility, the tall girl answered hesitantly. “Nothing really, just that, just that I know a few fighting techniques myself.”

Without even thinking, his eyes wandered over her form, taking in the details...

...from a martial artist’s point of view of course.

And feeling suddenly self-conscious under his appraising stare, Makoto resisted the urge to pull her shoulders back, finger her hair and straighten up, to make herself look a little...nicer...

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t been resisting that hard.

He could see it though – despite her deceptively supple, almost statuesque slenderness, there was that undeniable hint of firm, combat toughened muscle over smooth skin, the calloused knuckles, the alert, every ready eyes. Though her actual knowledge was yet to be seen, he would’ve warranted that she knew more than just a few techniques.

“So maybe...I don’t know...” Rather abruptly, her twiddling hands became a rather interesting study. “...we could have a little practice sometime...”

“I suppose so,” the pigtailed boy answered dubiously. After the types to be found in Nerima, he doubted that he would benefit much from practicing with one of her calibre, but still...

“Great!” She responded enthusiastically, relieved and content that the issue had been quickly settled in a favourable light.

Sensing a mild break, Minako took the opportunity to skilfully insert herself into the conversation. “So Ranma, you must also be pretty good at sports then.”

“Well...” The boy thoughtfully scratched his head.

*********

Rei slumped into her open hands – the movement accompanied by an equally wearied sigh. As a welcoming gesture to the new year and its new students, her maths teacher, being the nice, sympathetic patron of knowledge that she was, had seen fit to host a revision test on their very first class.

Joy to the world.

Her performance in said test wasn’t really a worrying issue – while not as smart as Ami (nobody was as smart as Ami), she was certainly no slouch in the academic department. Rei being Rei – she was no slouch in anything.

Which, oddly enough, was one of the contributing reasons for her mild depression. Entering the Senior High was supposed to represent a stepping point in a student’s educational life – from eldest year of Junior High, to once again at the bottom rung of the age level. There were supposed to be new clubs to join, new sports to take on, new friends in the higher years to make, new this, new that...

First day of the first term of T*A Private Girls’ High School, and the novelty had dropped faster than her interest in it. Perhaps it was that the higher school was so closely tied in with the lower, but aside from everyone getting a little older, it was much the same as before. Her universal popularity, and the unspoken ‘ojousama’ tag that had been secretly attached to her name was still present – and admittedly something she was rather fond of, and then there was always the archery club, which Hino Rei was, of course, the most expert markswoman.

All the girls envied Hino Rei, all the girls, older and younger, wanted to be Hino Rei – her elegant, almost classical beauty, her aloofness from mere mortal concerns, the way she drew the eyes of the boys (as many as there were to be found in an all-girl’s school), her obviously superior fashion sense...the epitome of the all rounded, ‘parents would be proud of’ girl.

Absently, the raven haired girl toyed with her biro. There truly was no place to go once you reached the top.

The ringing bell, and the teacher’s loud reminder for homework over the clatter of packing students brought her back to the present, and the fact that the school day was finished. Rising sedately as only the most popular girl in T*A Private Girls’ High could, Rei quietly made her way out.

Walking through the gardened walkway of the outside grounds, breathing in the relatively crisp late Winter air, disheartening thoughts intruded once more. There were those, of course, who disparaged her reputation in the student body – saying that she was false, that she tried too hard to put up an appearance of a too perfect student.

Not that she could’ve cared less, but they didn’t get it at all. Hino Rei did try hard – she spent ten minutes each morning brushing her hair just to give it that natural, free flowing look. But they assumed that it was all for the popularity, all for the image. They assumed that she’d had her school skirt tailor-made to be just slightly shorter than regulation all to draw outward attention to her long, refined legs.

How could you explain to people that you did it because it made you feel good about yourself? That it gave you pride and confidence to know that you were out in the world looking and being your best just for you, and that you didn’t give a damn about what other people might have thought? Oh sure, the occasional entranced boy walking into telegraph poles while their eyes were fixated on you was all very flattering, but that wasn’t really what counted.

But, for that matter, who would’ve cared for her explanations? The only people whom she knew would do so, already knew her – understood and accepted Hino Rei fully.

Her companions – all her fellow Senshi down at Juuban High. It was hard to judge those she might have called friends in her own school – the visible border between friends and fans was slim for one such as Hino Rei.

The panicked visages of a fleeing couple tore her attention back to the present, as they very nearly bowled her over in their passage. And just as instantaneously, it clicked that in order for anyone to be ‘fleeing’, it was required for there to be something to flee from.

In Juuban of all places, the ward with one of the lowest ‘human’ crime rates in the central Tokyo area, the ramifications were all too clear. And as if in total agreement with the sentiment, miko senses, highly attuned through their long usage to tremors in the Spirit plane, were caterwauling at a disturbance occurring not a block from where she was. Unthinkingly, the Shinto Priestess broke into a sprint, one hand over a Shinto ward, the other clasping her Henshin wand. For a long time now, both had become almost constant companions.

The sight that greeted her, as she turned the corner, stopped the girl dead – what looked to be some sick, corrupted cross between human, rainbow colours, and a brush cutter.

Daimon. The word came unthinkingly - almost as rapidly as her eyes, as they scanned the terrain for a suitable hiding place for a quick, yet very flashy transformation.

Mars Star Power, Make, UP!!

After a great deal of exhilarating pirouettes as her unclothed form was dressed by the energies of her planet, raven haired Senshi of Fire leapt into the open, and hurriedly tapped open a channel on her wrist communicator. And far longer than she would have wished to wait, the semi-hazy image of Ami's face appeared. "R-R...Sailor Mars, what..."

"Daimon!" she interrupted furiously, almost shouting into the screen. "Two blocks east of my place, at the park."

Thankfully, Ami wasted no time with questions - though the curiosity was written all over her face. Nodding quickly, she spoke efficiently, "We'll be there in five minutes - Jupiter and Venus are with me."

"Actually," a voice interjected, its tone almost conversational. "they're called phages."

Sailor Mars whirled at the unexpected voice, to see a somewhat peculiarly dressed young girl standing not far away, gazing at her with head half-cocked in a speculative manner. Silvery off-white seemed to be her colour, clothed in what looked to be a form-fitting leotard with black corset linings. Looking down at her own brilliant white leotard, sailor collar, and bright red skirt with its saucy crimson bow, she decided perhaps that the diminutive girl’s attire was not so peculiar after all. “Who are you, and what...”

“Sailor Iron Mouse.” The newly identified girl smiled cheerily, take a mocking bow with one arm held across her stomach. “Always a pleasure to meet a fellow Sailor Soldier.” Raising grey, appraising eyes once more, she sniffed disdainfully. “Although not much of a Senshi, I’d say, and very bad fashion sense.”

Mars ignored the double taunt, her focus set on a single word. Sailor? On a hunch, the Soldier of Fire narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Are you responsible for this, this..."

"Phage," the unnamed girl repeated sagely. "Not exactly - the silly gardener's Star Seed just wasn't pure enough for me." Frivolously, the small girl shrugged. "I'll leave you to deal with him."

"Wait!" Mars called too late, watching as the so-called Sailor leapt into a phone booth that had seemingly materialised out of nowhere. The descending rotating blade of the 'Phage's' brush cutter arm was enough of a distraction that she failed to pursue before the entire booth vaporised in a gaudy flash of yellow lightning. Flinching as she only barely managed to dodge the circular steel head, the Senshi took a leap back, and yet another as the monstrosity pressed her attack again and again.

“Pretty flowers need to be trimmed and CUT!!”

Pretty as she was, Sailor Mars had no intention of being cut anywhere anytime soon. “Mars...Flame...SnipaahHH!!!” The powerful arrow of fire flew awry as she was forced to duck to avoid coming off shorter by a head length.

“cut cut Cut  Cut CUT!!”

A painfully sharp slice to her thigh, and another across her arm, and the raven-haired warrior quickly decided that she needed to find a much better location if there was to be any hope of making a proper attack. And as if sensing her change in attitude, the phage had, in concert, suddenly sprouted a hedge trimmer from his other free arm.

Please hurry, Sailor Mercury. Throwing the prayer aside, she swiftly dodged, acrobatically stepping right then left as the gardening demon lunged viciously from all sides, having grown another arm, and bringing the grand total to three.

Hurry. A mis-timed step, an errant pebble on the gravel park walkway, and...

...and the world turned upside down as she experienced a stomach turning lurch – only dimly realising that the view of the normal world had been replaced by blue skies and drifting white clouds.

Staring aimlessly into the heavens, the Senshi’s somewhat muddled brain tried to decipher the sudden scenario change, when the view was in itself abruptly eclipsed, and she found herself looking instead into...into...

...into a pair of the bluest eyes she had ever seen.

********

A fairly normal ending to a fairly normal day of school for Saotome Ranma – which by the fact of its total normality was, in truth, very ‘abnormal’ by his standards. There hadn’t been anything close to resembling a fight, and added to that, he was still a ‘he’, and had been so for the entire day.

Must be a new record.

He was still reeling a little from the shock that nothing other than normal school procedures had occurred that day – well aside from being approached and befriended by four attractive girls in his class. Abruptly the pigtailed boy paused to sniff under his arms. Is it something I’m wearing?

Admittedly though, he’d kinda needed assistance getting adjusted to the new high school, and that blue-haired one – the obvious brain box of the group, had been very helpful in getting his curriculum organised.

Still...

Passing by the suburban park, revelling in the absolute normalcy of his life, Ranma took a fateful, ill-timed, and ill-lucked glance across the bird lake.

To see a devastatingly short-skirted, and strangely sailor fuku school uniformed black haired girl frantically trying to avoid being eviscerated by a...a...well actually he wasn’t quite sure what it was.

And then, the moment of truth – to help, or not to help. The new Ranma, the one that had evolved to appreciate his semi-new life, cried out in despair that this was just bound to cause issues, and bring back old troubles in full force. The old one, however, was staunchly proclaiming the first duty of a martial artist. Now, Saotome Ranma had no problems with protecting the weak – but sometimes, you just had to wish people could damn well stop being so weak when you happened to be around.

Caught in the indecision, his concentration was sparked at the all too familiar sight of blood, as the unnamed girl poorly evaded a low angled slice.

That did it – gone from what might have been a bizarre play fight or show, the pigtailed fighter sprinted across the grass, cursing his hesitancy as the unfortunate girl took another, and yet another cut to her bare skin before he had even covered half the distance.

Unconsciously drawing his inner energies, and seemingly unknowing of the fact that he was visibly glowing a hazy blue, the Anything Goes heir, at least to outward eyes, appeared to practically teleport the rest of the distance, the unstoppable force of his momentum carrying the both of them off the ground and into the higher branches of a nearby cherry blossom tree. “You okay there?”

When she didn’t respond, he took a moment to glance down, eliciting nothing more than a noticeable widening of her purple eyes – after a moment, that is.

“Y...y...”

“Sorry?”

“...y...” Taking a deep, calming, cleansing breath, the tree bound Senshi of Fire finally released a single word. “You!!”

Ranma hesitated, unsure how to interpret that. “Me?” Seeing the noticeable recognition in her eyes, the martial artist forcibly repressed the urge to shiver at the bad vibes that had begun coursing down his spine.

For just when had there been a time when truly good things had happened when a girl recognised Saotome Ranma?

Thankfully, further conversation was abruptly terminated by the insistent buzzing of a chainsaw – something rather difficult to ignore if you’re sitting in the tree currently being dissected.

Damn! Leaping lightly to the ground, Ranma cursed his diverted attention – by now a well worn veteran of battles, how could he have gotten so distracted in the middle of a fight?

“No!...Don’t...” Sailor Mars called out too late, as she watched her unknown rescuer move to engage the phage.

Without magic, without...

And all of a sudden, white hot pain lanced in her mind, as unbelievable spirit forces manifested so very close...

“Mouko Takabisha!!”

She nearly passed out from the surge of spirit energy, her vision darkening to fiery red, then blinding white, as weak fingers found scant support on the cherry tree branch. Dizzily, as the embers of power died away from her battered awareness, what was left of her rational thinking had only one thought for the moment.

Okay, so maybe he had magic then – of a sort. Nonetheless, a monster of that level would soon overpower the human, and in tandem with that thought, the Senshi made ready to leap down, before realising her inadvertently advantageous position.

***********

It hadn’t been a particularly strong chi blast – doing little more than throwing the...thing off balance. The pigtailed martial artist wasn’t entirely certain if his opponent was human, but he looked alive, and definitely kicking, for that matter – so he was willing to hold off the big attacks for the moment and look for a chance to disable the thing.

“Mars...”

Risking a glance behind, Ranma goggled at the impressive sight of a blazing curve of pure fire, shortly before having to duck under the swinging grass cutter blade. Rising from a crouch, he swiftly sank his fist into the thing’s stomach – the force of his body behind the move.

“...Flame...”

And promptly discovered that the monster’s outer body was made of metal plating.

“SNIPER!!”

It was only the martial artist’s instinctive reflexes that saved him, as faster than he would have believed possible for a massive bolt of flame, an arrow of fire sprang from the mysterious girl’s bow, and plunged into the garden monstrosity’s stomach.

And incidentally passing close enough to burn the front of his precious school uniform off.

“Halt, in the name of Love and Justice!”

The phage, still pinned to the ground by the fire arrow, had little choice in the matter.

Praying to the Gods to somehow forbid the insanity level from gaining any further proved to be a rather fruitless effort, as Ranma openly gaped at the admittedly very sparkly and photogenic sight of three lithe and statuesque warrior girls all dressed in a similar fashion to the one he had recently rescued.

“Hey, it’s Ran-m..mph!!” Mercury had hurriedly clapped her white gloved hand over Venus’s mouth, whispering furiously, “Remember, the Sailor Senshi do not know who he is!”

Fortunately, perhaps, the said martial artist’s attention had already been drawn away by the phage, which had used the brief pause in the battle to disengage himself from the dying fire arrow, and was subversively trying to advance down the warriors’ blindside.

The flying double drop kick promptly dispelled the attempt.

Even as the Sailor soldiers were re-arranging themselves for a coordinated attack, Makoto whispered furiously, “What are you doing bringing a normal civilian into this fight?” Whilst Venus had taken the monster’s attention with a Love and Beauty Shock, the Senshi of Nature had managed to sidle up to the still tree-borne Sailor Mars.

“H-He’s not normal!” the raven haired girl returned, just as adamantly.

“What do you mean, not...”

“Mouko Takabisha!!”

“Oh...” Makoto finished off, somewhat weakly, then whirled at the unexpected weight as her companion fell heavily against the taller girl for support. Holding the Fire Senshi steady by her shoulders, she murmured worriedly, “Hey, are you alright?”

“S-so much life energy...” Mars could only gasp weakly. Standing up straight, purple eyes squinting through the rush of painful tears, the raven haired warrior shook herself free, and in uncharacteristic gracelessness, tumbled down to the ground. “I have to...”

“Hey, take it easy, Sailor Mars!” the Senshi of Nature called from where she still clung to the tree limb for support.

Down below the rest of the group were certainly having their hands filled with the single phage – the unaccustomed addition to their fighting force actually, in some manners, proving more a hindrance than a benefit. Prancing about like a self-propelled ping pong ball, Ranma slammed his attacks forth whilst, in that mysterious Anything Goes way, managing to evade the gardening monster’s return attacks.

And yet, kneeling on the grass, her water energised harp ready, Sailor Mercury could not find the opportunity to release her attack without potentially injuring the youth. Giving up, she brought a finger to her temple, activating the Mercury visor and scanner, her other hand already reaching for its accompanying computer.

Sailor Mars was inevitably more direct. Throwing aside the last vestiges of nausea, she screamed, “You’re blocking the way you stupid baka!”

Hearing that all too familiar word, Ranma flinched halfway during a tuck and roll, bouncing heavily against an ornate fountain, before twisting away. The phage, attention also drawn by the shout, gave up pursuit in favour of his original target.

“Where’s Sailor Moon?” Rei murmured breathlessly, as she finally managed to evade the aggressive offensive, taking cover behind a hedge wall. As much as she may have been annoyed by the Princess’s antics on the battlefield, it looked as if they would need her magic to put the monstrosity down permanently.

Cursing as her Oak Revolution was cut down by a fan blade, Jupiter growled, “She was on her way home when we contacted her – in fact...”

“Amaguriken!!” Pummelling the monster with more blows than even he could count, Ranma sent the phage flying across to land square in the centre of the lake, instinctually curving to avoid the watery backwash.

Only to see it arise once more, damaged, but obviously recovering. “Okay, now I’m really pissed!” Flying across the distance to the shore, he wound back for a major chi strike, before the red-skirted girl’s voice once again halted the action.

“Stop!!” In true fear that the unnamed human boy would burn himself out completely from the amounts of life energy he was throwing around, Sailor Mars risked a decapitation as she stepped into his path. “That thing’s human – wait till Sailor Moon comes, so she can heal him.”

“Sailor what?” Ranma’s eyes widened in alarm as his peripheral vision caught a tell-tale flash of reflected light, just behind the red-skirt’s shoulder.

And once again, as before, Sailor Mars found herself under the watchful protection of those beautiful blue eyes. “I don’t care if you’re gonna call in the navy or what, but that thing’s gonna really hurt some people soon if we don’t...

“The local parks are made for the enjoyment of all!”

Perfect timing, as always.

The newly appearing, shining leader of the Sailor Senshi skilfully twirled her sceptre, somehow managing it make it look both photogenically acceptable, and threatening at the same time. “To those who would thoughtlessly destroy it, I, the pretty Soldier Sailor Moon, will never forg...”

Seeing as the demon had almost managed to wade to the shore, Ranma hurriedly slammed his palm onto what he took for its forehead, interrupting furiously, “If you’re that Sailor thingy, and you’re gonna do somethin’ big and powerful, do it NOW!”

Visibly miffed at her glorious entry being so rudely spoiled, the newly super henshined Senshi nonetheless broke off her well prepared speech, and ground her booted feet into the soil for a decent attack stance.

“Moon...”

Whatever it was she was doing with the ornate stick thing in her hand, it sure blinded the eyes, and also took much too long to finish off – for the phage had already gotten to his feet, and was shakily brandishing a whipsaw. Guessing that the striped skirted girl would be unable to halt her chi attack until it was finished, Ranma closed the already minute distance from the monster, and stubbornly grabbed the thing in a reverse arm lock – somehow managing the feat despite the fact that the monster had three of them.

It seemed that the other Sailors had noted the phage’s movements as well. “Jupiter, Oak...”

“No!” Sailor Mars screamed out, over the voice of her fellow partner. “That boy’s right behind the phage!” And just as the words left her mouth, the ramifications of his position, and Sailor Moon’s own assault hit her in full, and she unthinkingly sprinted for the struggling pair.

“...Spiral...”

The damn gardening monster was sure putting up a fight, lashing the martial artist again and again with his makeshift whip – though from his armlocked position, the thing didn’t have the leverage to make more than skin deep cuts. Soon enough however, Ranma’s hands were running red with his own blood, and he was fervently hoping that the girl’s mystic powerful attack was going to actually finish off within the next few seconds, so that he could dash away before the monster slipped out of blood slicked fingers.

The distance between her and the unnamed boy was only a few feet – a relieved spark running through her whirling mind that she was going to make it in time. Not reducing her speed in the slightest, Sailor Mars pulled back an arm, hand open to push the boy out of the line of Sailor Moon’s fire.

“...Heart...”

And then, somehow seeming to sense her imminent arrival, she watched as he turned his head, and their eyes met.

Oh No! What did the crazy sailor school uniformed girl think she was doing? Realising that his plans to push the monster into the leader’s attack and jump out of the way were rapidly becoming ruined, Ranma watched with semi-detached fascination as she, from his perspective, came barrelling straight towards them like a crimson-skirted fireball.

Great – trust a stupid girl to get in the way, and force him to protect her as well.

She slammed her hand forwards – the Fire Senshi’s only thought to protect the innocently interfering, handsome blue-eyed boy, before he effortlessly curved around the path of her gloved arm and closed strongly shielding arms around her smaller frame.

Shielding me with his body, she realised – her inappropriately timed feeling of satisfied happiness in his warm hold instantly eclipsed by panicked confusion. She was supposed to be the one doing the protecting here!

“...ATTACK!!”

Actually, now that he thought about it, being at the null zone of a chi attack that hurt the eyes just to be nearby when it was powering up – was, was...

...was not as painful as he would have imagined.

Really, it wasn’t.

********

“...are we supposed to do now?” were the first words to reach his addled mind as he came to. “Damn, how long was I out?”

The Sailor Scouts collectively flinched as the unintentional secondary victim to Sailor Moon’s attack announced his awakening to the conscious world. None seemed particularly eager to assist him, so he pointedly sat up, briefly taking stock of what was still intact.

Evidently, his shirt preferred not to be included in that list. Blasted in the front by a fire arrow, and melted in the back by that sailor chick’s heart attack thingy, the garment was doing all it could just to stay hanging off his broad shouldered frame. Ranma inwardly winced as minor burns made their additional presence known – only then realising that he was the subject of rather curious inspection from five miniskirted girls.

“Umm...are you alright there?” the striped skirted one with the funny wings on her back queried tentatively.

In truth, Mercury had already done a body scan with her visor, but given it was her attack that had given the grand finale, Sailor Moon thought it was at least polite to ask.

Instead of answering her, however, Ranma gazed at the group with suspiciously guarded eyes. “Like are any of you angry or anything about, well, anything?” To him, at least, it was a rather important question.

“Well,” the orange skirted one replied, “not really...”

Apparently though, the red skirt had other notions. “What the hell were you thinking butting in like that all the time – why any one of us could have accidentally...”

Unable to explain the feeling, he was oddly thankful for the familiar argumentative tone. “Hey, if it weren’t for me...” he punctuated the declaration with a thumb gesture at his chest, “...you’da been talkin’ through your neck by now.” He shot a mildly angered glare at the dark haired girl. “And what’s more, the only trouble I had was when you damn near blasted me with that flamin’ arrow of yours.”

“Hey! You had more than enough speed to dodge it.”

Crossing his arms indignantly, and unconsciously emphasising the roasted condition of his shirt, the boy grumbled, “You didn’t know that before you fired it.”

In characteristic Hino Rei fury, she was about to snap back a heated retort, before...

...before she caught the full force of his angry bright blue eyes. “I...I...” Biting her lower lip, and forcefully pulling her gaze away from his, she finished off lamely, “...I’m sorry, you’re right.” It was true after all – how on Earth had she been so certain he could move fast enough when she’d fired that arrow?

And around her, the other Sailor warriors gasped in abject shock at this, their Sailor Mars, actually backing down from an argument. “Sailor Mars, are you alr...”

“Look here,” Ranma interrupted brusquely, a little thrown by the easy end to what he’d expected to be a long debate. “If you’re all done here, I’m gonna head off then.”

As one, all heads suddenly swivelled to his direction, conversation cut off completely. And though he wasn’t quite sure why, the pigtailed boy took a few reflexive steps backwards, palms held openly in front as if in warding.

“Hold a moment there, we just have a few questions...” the green skirt trailed off, as if waiting for another to actually voice a query.

And blue skirt, eyes once more back to the screen of her pocket sized computer, nodded at the sentiment – somebody had to explain all these readings, after all...

Venus was opting for a more personal examination, boldly letting her eyes wander along the pleasant lines of his exposed torso. Hmm, strong as an ox – but not overly muscular, like those ultra weightlifter types. But was that fear in his eyes? Surely no good guy would be afraid of the Senshi – in which case, that would probably mean he was a bad guy. But then surely no guy built that cute and nice could be a bad guy, right?

Not liking the attention in the slightest, Ranma took another step back, now addressing the supposed leader. “Umm, Sailor-san, like I’d really like to hang around, but really...”

“ ‘Sailor’ is a title, not my surname.” The blonde princess called out indignantly. The more horrifying thought then finally struck. “Wait a moment, you haven’t heard of the Sailor Senshi?”

“Umm, sorry no.” Now definitely in the mood for the Anything Goes Final Technique, the martial artist turned about. “Lot’s of stuff to do, really busy...”

“Wait, don’t...” Sailor Mars trailed off, even as the mild dust cloud of his departure slowly dissipated. In the new silence, she added, “He sure runs really fast.”

And almost as quickly, her pretty features quirked, wondering where that particular thought had originated from.

*********

“Oh, Kami-sama help us all.” Nodoka sighed in exasperation, her temperament surprisingly restrained, given the sight presented before her. “It’s been one day, Ranma, one day.”

“Ah Mom, sorry about this.” Ranma scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Left with no alternative clothing, he had arrived with the school shirt hanging off his body in much the same manner as before.

Of course, being the mother of an Anything Goes heir, she had been more than prepared – purchasing eight of every uniform article with the somewhat optimistic hope that it would last them till at least the end of term. But still... “Maybe we should have you paying for your clothes out of your own pocket.”

Some things may have changed greatly in the boy over the past few weeks, but his financial situation was, unfortunately, not one of them. “It wasn’t my fault,” he protested hotly, visions of permanently empty wallets invading his imagination. “There was a girl bein’ attacked in the park, and I couldn’t just let ‘em get away with it.”

There, bringing in the issues of manly behaviour ought to have earned him at least a few good points.

“Oh, my son.” Her outward expression of disapproval had become but a shell in face of the news, pride welling within that he was still so gallantry and chivalrous to the fairer sex. “Who was this girl?”

Uh Oh! Now the danger senses were blaring on a whole different wavelength. From her avid expression alone he could easily tell where this conversation was going.

Was she pretty? What was her name? Oh, my son is sooo manly!!

He did not need this as a finale to what was supposed to be a ‘normal’ day. “Look Mom, it was just like your every day thing – nothin’ special, nothin’ new, I’m really dirty, I gotta clean out these burns, see ya, bye for now.”

And quicker than you could say, ‘Just wait a moment there, Ranma,’ the boy was off and up the stairs. Now in the relative safety of his own room, the Anything Goes martial artist smiled to himself, as he delicately pulled off the remains of his school shirt. That didn’t go too badly.

And down below, Nodoka too was smiling. She may not have known Ranma for nearly as long as any mother would desire of their only son, but it took no great feat of the mind to decipher his motivations for haste.

Oh, my son is sooo manly!

**********

Within walking distance away, a group of senior high schoolers were having issues of their own.

“So...what do we do now?”

A loaded question to be sure.

The inner Senshi were at their usual after school meeting place – that being the Hikawa Shrine – but it appeared that no one was willing to be the first to delve into the unusually deep pot of issues for the day. It seemed as if doing so would officially acknowledge the beginning of yet another ‘abnormal’ year, and continue their near unbroken track record of abnormal years.

Was it really asking too much for one measly week where high school girls could be high school girls, and not defenders of Love and Justice?

After close to a quarter hour of uncomfortable silence, broken occasionally by half-hearted fights between Usagi and Rei over manga/snack rights, Luna finally put an end to the delay. “So can somebody start by telling me just what happened this afternoon?” She somehow managed to convey a hefty amount of authority, despite her diminutive position, snuggled in her owner’s lap.

“I was trying to go home, like any normal person does after school, but...” Rei sighed wistfully. “...but there was a Dai...Phage attacking everyone at the park just down the road.”

“Phage? What’s a phage?” Artemis piped in, earning him a quick thump on the head from Minako.

“Don’t interrupt!” she admonished, ignoring his insulted glare.

“Annyway, so naturally, I transformed and called everyone over.” the Shinto priestess growled in mild annoyance. “I thought it was a Daimon, like what we’ve encountered before, but a girl, calling herself ‘Sailor Iron Mouse’ of all names...”

“Sailor?” Usagi blurted. “Where was she, why didn’t you invite her over to join us?”’

Heaving a cleansing breath, the dark haired girl continued as if unhearing. “...told me that it was a phage, and that its ‘Star Seed’ wasn’t pure enough.” She shrugged, indicating her indifference to the change in names. “But it looked as if she’d been responsible for the whole matter so I wasn’t about to make friends with her in any case – Sailor whatever or not. Besides, at least according to Setsuna-san, there aren’t any more Sailor Senshi.” Rei glanced about for a moment, as if the Time Senshi would miraculously appear out of nowhere like she was so fond of doing. “Well Sailor Iron Mouse disappears, and I’m left fighting the phage, and...and losing, and all of a sudden the boy from my vision pops out of nowhere and...”

“Ranma?” Minako cut in, heedless of her own words. “Ranma was the guy from your vision?”

“She did mention that the boy she saw in the Holy fire had a pigtail,” Ami commented, clinically.

“Can I finish?” Rei ground out between clenched teeth.

Instant silence.

“Ahem, well this guy, who’s radiating spirit energy like you wouldn’t believe, ah...” she flushed a little in memory, “...picks me up, and with the both of us, jumps up to a tree branch, like more than five metres above us.” When nobody seemed particularly fazed by the concept, she reiterated herself firmly. “A normal, un-magically powered human being carried himself and my weight nearly two storeys into the air.”

“What do you mean, ‘un-powered’?” Usagi’s forehead crinkled in confusion. “He was throwing magical blasts around just like any of us.”

“Uhh, not quite.” Ami shyly chimed in. Suddenly aware that all eyes had automatically directed themselves to the most commonly knowledgeable source, she meekly sought refuge by hiding behind the too small Mercury Computer screen. “Since I couldn’t attack the phage whilst Saotome-san was so close, I just scanned the battle instead.”

Luna’s grin was almost Cheshire, accompanied by an approving feline nod. Leave it to good old dependable Ami-chan to put some sense into the day. “So what do you mean by ‘not quite’?”

“Well...” she began hesitantly, “...naturally, the moment I saw the blue projection from his hands, I immediately scanned for Millennium energies.”

“And?” Rei prompted eagerly.

“And it came up negative.”

“So he’s not of the Silver Millennium?”

“Not necessarily,” Ami corrected. “It just means he doesn’t use Queen Serenity’s magic.” Left unsaid was the implication that there had been other, rather more unpleasant magics used in those times. She rotated the computer, so that the display now faced the others. “I also logged specs. Like speed, reflexes, strength, as well as what data I could get scanning the phage.”

Standing behind the group as they crowded around the computer screen, Usagi smiled at the sight of the now animated Ami as she explained the various details and information presented efficiently in the tiny monitor. As bashful as she was in the normal environment, here in the world of knowledge and discovery was truly where the Mercurian warrior came alive. And only then, in that moment, did she also notice that Rei stood apart, hand to her forehead, lost in her own thoughts.

“Rei-chan?” she pressed quietly, so as to not disturb the others.

“Hmm?” the Shinto priestess replied, half-distractedly.

“What’s wrong?”

Rei looked up, her dark purple eyes reflecting the concern that was concealed by her reassuring head shake. “Nothing, nothing really.”

As forthright and direct as the Fire Senshi was, Usagi could easily tell when she was lying. Her friend clearly had something on her mind, something that she was unwilling to share – no matter though, Rei would tell if and when she was ready.

Returning to gaze across the room, where she knew, behind an open garden and several walls, the Sacred Fire lay, Rei returned a soft hand to her forehead. “It’s about the spirit,” she finally whispered, her voice near inaudible. “I use my spirit, my chi, to communicate with the Sacred Fire – but this boy...” she trailed off, only then realising that Usagi had already joined the group around Ami.

“...this boy, this ‘Ranma’ that I saw in my visions, wields spirit energies like I’ve never even dreamed of.” She inwardly laughed as her last words were easily drowned out by the conversations around the table. Now I’m talking to myself – a sure sign of insanity.

But the thought, and the memory of the flaring pain, refused to leave her consciousness – as sensitive as she was to chi flows, the feel of his, so close both physically and intimately, it...

...it scared, frightened, excited...it thrilled her like nothing else.

Amongst the other Sailor Soldiers, Makoto had risen to her feet, drawing the attention of the assembled girls. “Just hold the thought here,” she clasped her chin thoughtfully. “Who are we more worried about, the new Sailor and her phages, or Saotome-san and his ‘mystic’ powers?”

Belatedly, Rei realised that she had missed the better part of a half-hour’s worth of meeting time.

“And what about these, what were they called, Star Seeds? Do people eventually die without them, or do they just get stuck as phages until we can return the Seeds to them?”

Was it just her, or did they have more questions than when they had first started out? Rei was pointedly thankful that Makoto had stopped by her apartment to pick up some home-made snacks – it looked to be a long night ahead.

*********

It was well after the mid of that same night – certainly a time when all good little schoolboys and girls were in bed, resting for the new school day.

Not so for one Saotome Ranma.

True, he did have school tomorrow, but several hours spent turning and twisting impatiently on his futon had dispelled any idea that rest would be possible until he had made this trip.

So here he was, perched on a familiar tree limb looking into a very familiar bedroom.

Akane would probably kill me now, if she knew where I was.

Which was, of course, right outside her bedroom window, gazing at the sleeping face of none other than Tendo Akane herself. Ranma grinned fondly as he openly stared at his fiancée, safe from her ire in her slumber. His mind traced all the little things he’d come to remember about the youngest Tendo – like the way her dark bangs framed her peaceful brow, unmarred by the frown that was so common to her features in wakefulness; or her cute, almost childishly girly yellow print pyjamas.

At least, for once, that damned P-chan wasn’t hanging around like a sticky porcine soft toy.

Pulling the half open window wider, the pigtailed boy stepped in with all the grace and noiselessness that would be expected of a Mutsabeto Kakuto heir. It was Kami-sama’s fortunate benevolence, that something or somebody hadn’t already gone awfully wrong, and he was left hanging in one of those unexplainable ‘it’s not what it looks like’ situations.

Ranma grinned, stormy grey blue eyes flashing confidently – he was willing to push his luck a little more, tonight. Wafting silently over to his fiancée’s bedside, the boy knelt, the distance between them now measured in terribly long inches. Staring closely for long minutes, and unable to resist the alluring temptation,  he reached out tenderly, touch softer than the caress of a snowflake, brushing aside errant strands of richly dark hair, and pressed loving, worshipful lips to her forehead in a chaste kiss.

Oh boy, she’d have really killed him if she’d found out.

As if sharing the sentiment, Akane made sleepy grumbling noises, before rolling onto her side to face him. With a good-natured smirk, Ranma carelessly tossed a snowy white flower onto her blanket – let her try and figure out how a white Pascali Rose ended up on her bed in the middle of the night.

And now, heading back to his new home, flying so jubilantly from roof to roof, Saotome Ranma never even once wondered just how he knew the name to his gift.

 

 

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Author's Notes.

So you thought that this was going to be a straight and predictable romance story? Bwahaha!!! Sorry about this. Well, in any case there’s not much to say here, but a few minor points.

In case you happened to notice, I did not use the actual attack phrase that Sailor Moon employed in the Sailor Star series. Why? It’s embarrassing enough to read/hear it, let alone write it. As mentioned in the foreword, I’d almost prefer that the readers had not seen the final season of SM, since I’ve axed a great deal of the plot anyway.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and look forward to more.

 

You can email me at dojohouse@optushome.com.au

Or check out my webpage for other works at:    http://members.optushome.com.au/dojohouse/