========================= RELENTLESS A Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction By Grayson Towler ========================= ----------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER ONE: The Master ----------------------------------------------------------- The Lord of Nerima surveyed his domain, and found it to be good. Ranma had to laugh - that thought was a bit much, even for someone of his ego. From his perch on a high rooftop, he could see miles worth of homes, streets, shops, and parks that made up the Nerima district of Tokyo. If he wasn't "lord," Ranma thought, then at least he was the champion. Nerima was his playground, his arena, and it threw new challenges at him almost every day. One way or another, Saotome Ranma always came out on top. A noisy growl from his stomach interrupted his thoughts. Ranma grimaced, recalling that he had judiciously skipped lunch at Furinkan today. Kunou Kodachi had made an appearance around midday, and Ranma was pretty certain she had spiked the meal he'd intended to eat with one of her chemical concoctions. Discretion was the better part of valor when it came eating anything touched by The Black Rose. Fortunately, he had other options for scoring grub. Ukyou was out of town, so that meant his next best option was the one currently pedaling at high speeds along the edge of the fence below. With well-practiced grace, he hopped from the rooftop down into the Amazon girl's path. She skidded to a stop, the heavy burden of the many delivery boxes she was carrying perfectly balanced behind her bicycle seat. "Ranma!" she exclaimed. "Yo, Shampoo," he said by way of greeting. "Hey... those smell great. Got one for me?" She gave him a calculating look. "Most for customer," she said, "but there one you COULD have..." "Yeah?" "...if Ranma promise to marry Shampoo." He grinned. That was just Shampoo's way of opening the negotiations on a deal like this. If he could get her to show him which box she planned to give him, he could just swipe it and make a break for it. First, he had to play the game. "That's kinda steep for just one lunch," he replied casually, staring off into the sky. "Then you go on date with Shampoo," she offered. "How about I tell you how nice your hair looks?" he tried by way of a counter-offer. She sniffed and tossed her head. "Shampoo already KNOW how good her hair look." "What about your eyes? I can compliment those." She didn't bother responding to that. "I give you lunch for price of one kiss." He was about to try another stab at negotiation when a new tactic occurred to him. "Okay, sounds good." Shampoo blinked in surprise, almost losing her balance for a moment. "You... really?" She recovered her composure fairly quickly, though there was a sparkle of real excitement in her eyes now. "Ranma give kiss BEFORE he get lunchbox, yes?" He shrugged. "Sure. Whatever you say." A new voice suddenly rang through the air. "Saotome Ranma! You womanizing cretin!" Ranma stepped deftly aside, hopping off the fence to avoid the spray of knives which accompanied the arrival of Mousse. "Yo, Mousse. What's cookin'?" The long-haired Amazon boy landed beside the two, his fists clenched with rage. "How dare you, Ranma! First you try to steal the heart of my beloved Shampoo, and now you steal my lunch as well?!" Shampoo glared in rage at the bespectacled Amazon boy. "You stupid Mousse! Go back to cafe and get other lunch!" Mousse barely noticed all this. His attention was fixed on his hated foe. "Ranma... this time, I'll show you no mercy!" Ranma shrugged and set his lunchbox down, dropping into a fighting stance. "Ready when you are, Mousse old goose." "Don't you mock me!" Mousse was working himself up into a good lather. "I have developed a technique even you can't hope to overcome! Prepare to face... the Pinions of the Raging Kingfisher!" With that Mousse threw his arms wide. Suddenly, knives and spikes erupted from beneath his robes and his hair in every direction, flaring out across his body until he was almost obscured beneath the mass of keen steel. Bristling with gleaming weapons, Mousse advanced on Ranma, laughing contemptuously. "I am like the Kingfisher, who fluffs out his feathers when faced with a foe to become larger and more intimidating. But, as you can see, each one of my 'feathers' has a razor edge! How can you fight what you don't dare hit, Ranma? Ha ha ha!" Ranma thought. Against a normal opponent, it would certainly be a terrifying technique. But Ranma was no normal opponent, of course. The most expedient way to deal with this would be with some ki-attacks, but Ranma was the sort who would never play an ace when a deuce would suffice. He dodged a couple of swipes from the charging Mousse. The biggest drawback to this technique was that Mousse's mobility was severely limited by all the weapons sticking out of his body. Typical Mousse - an exceptional fighter in a lot of ways, but not a champion thinker. "Hey, Mousse, I understand that ya like to name all your techniques after birds and stuff, but I think you're gonna have to bite the bullet and call this one the Porcupine, y'know?" Swipe, swish. Mousse advanced clumsily on Ranma, lacerating the air with a hundred blades but never coming close to his foe. "Shut up and fight!" "Or maybe the Hedgehog?" "Grrr!" Swipe, swish, swipe. "Hey, I know! The Puffer Fish!" "Hold still, damn you!" Mousse charged Ranma in a blind rage, intending to give his enemy a bear hug he'd never survive. Ranma, anticipating this every step of the way, took a gentle hop backwards and then bounced upwards off the trunk of the tree he'd been backing towards. He cleared the steel-covered Mousse with ease, watching as the enraged boy charged underneath him. With burst of simultaneous "ker-chunks," the blades along Mousse's front buried themselves deep in the tree. Mousse would not let himself be trapped for long. He detached the weapons on his front side which had pinned him to the trunk, then whirled to face his opponent. "Where are you, Saotome!?" Ranma swung down from a tree branch, planting a foot squarely in Mousse's exposed midsection. "An opening," he announced casually. The kick lifted Mousse off his feet and sent him sprawling backwards to the ground. Countless blades and spines buried themselves in the soft earth, supporting Mousse like an inverted bed of nails. Mousse struggled to try to free himself, but he was completely suspended in the air by his arsenal and didn't have a scrap of leverage. He was effectively trapped. "Shampoo!" he cried. "Help me! I've fallen, and I can't get up!" Shampoo rolled her eyes and sniffed in disdain. "Stupid Mousse. Serve you right." Ranma bounded over to Shampoo. He had spotted which lunchbox the two of them had been referring to, and might have swiped it away if Shampoo hadn't grabbed it. "How about that lunch?" he asked innocently. "You give Shampoo kiss," the violet-eyed Amazon insisted. "Okay," he agreed. "This... is a pretty special moment, Shampoo." "Ranma..." she whispered back, leaning forward. She was still cagey enough not to close her eyes, but she had pretty much dropped her guard. The young Saotome took her free hand in his, then bent and gave her a quick peck on the fingers. The moment he heard her indignant gasp, he snatched the lunchbox out of her fingers and bounded away. "Ranma!" the Amazon pounded her handlebars in frustration. "That NOT a real kiss!" He looked back, grinning. He knew she didn't have time to chase him around, not with all those deliveries to run. "A deal's a deal, Shampoo!" he sang back. With a twirl of the chopsticks, began to devour the ramen in the box. "Stupid Ranma," the Amazon grumbled. She tossed her head and began to pedal off, irritated and disappointed. "Great as always!" he shouted after her, polishing off the noodles before she rode out of sight. Ah, the sweet, familiar taste of victory. Life was good. As he approached the Tendou Dojo, hoping that his glutton of a father hadn't done in all the leftovers this early in the afternoon, a sudden intuition made him pull up short. Was he... being watched? It happened often enough, to be sure, and he was pretty good at spotting it by now. It wasn't something that got him especially worried, but he always liked to know who was keeping an eye on him. No, it was gone. Either he'd been imagining it or the observer had split. Ranma shrugged and carried on his way. If there was really something to be worried about, he'd find out soon enough. Right now there were leftovers to be scavenged. The young martial artist cleared the Dojo wall with a deft leap, heading towards the promise of more food with hardly a care in the world. - - - - - - the old man thought. This would have to be convincing if it was going to work. Ranma seemed to have a brain like a bowl of pudding sometimes, but it wouldn't pay to underestimate him here. Certainly, there was nobody else on whom he could pull this particular stunt and expect to get away with it. Soun and Genma were far too pitiful, and even he couldn't bring himself to do this to Akane. It would have to be Ranma, and he would have to sell this act to even the sharpest and most cynical of observers. What he was about to do would sting his pride for a bit, but when it came to a choice between pride and survival, there was no question about which road Happosai would choose. - - - - - - Ranma was so busy trying to stuff as much squid jerky into his mouth as physics would allow that he almost didn't catch the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Something small, something dark... from the size of the blur which he had barely glimpsed, it was either Ryouga the Wonder Pig or that perverted old goat sneaking around. Ranma took a moment to chew and swallow, then hopped soundlessly out the door and up onto the dojo roof. If it were Ryouga, he was probably just lost and trying to find his way around, but if it were the old freak, then he'd be up to one thing. Ranma crept his way over until he was positioned above the window to Akane's room, then waited out of sight, listening. He had to admit that the geezer could be damned sneaky when he put his mind to it. He didn't hear a sound from inside the room, and was almost ready to give up when he finally heard the whisper of the window being opened by small, quiet hands. Knowing Happosai's patterns as he did, he figured the old pervert's next move would be to hop to the tree, then to the wall, and then off once more to his demented rounds. He allowed himself a small smile, took a stab at guessing the timing, then reached out over the side of the roof with blinding speed and snatched. Perfect guess! He was really on the money today, no question about it. He came up with Happosai's bag of ill-gotten goodies in hand, plucked so deftly from the lecher's grasp that he took a couple of seconds to notice they were gone. "H... hey?" came the querulous voice. "My silky treasures! Where did they go?" Judging that the time was right, Ranma reached down with the other hand and plucked up the tiny old martial artist by the back of the shirt. He grinned, dangling the bag of purloined panties out of Happosai's extremely limited reach. "You lookin' for these, old man?" "Ranma!" the lecher sounded startled and angry. "How dare you! Those are mine!" He scrabbled uselessly in the air for the bag. "Now what've I told you about sneakin' around into the girls' rooms here, ya old pervert?" "That's no way to talk to your Master!" Happosai snapped, still struggling vainly to get a hold of the bag. "You ain't MY master, Gramps." Happosai stopped struggling, twisting to glare angrily at the boy who held him in this humiliating position. "Ranma, you let go of me now and give me back my panties!" Ranma was underwhelmed. "Give it up, ya old goat. You ain't gettin' these back." With that he stepped lightly off the edge of the roof. As he descended, he tossed the bag of panties back in through the window, then flipped the glass pane closed in a single deft movement. He landed on the soft grass, still holding Happosai like a puppy by the scruff of the neck, and looked smug. "Hey!" came the shout from above. Ranma looked up to see Akane opening her window. She was wearing a cross expression and a pair of panties on her head. "What's the big idea hitting me in the face with a bag of panties!?" she shouted indignantly. "I was just returnin' what this old goat stole!" Ranma protested, flashing her a winning smile. "You oughta thank me, ya know." Akane "hmmphed," her face conveying distinctly that she'd rather gag than thank Ranma for throwing a bag of underwear in her face. She seemed not to notice that she still had a pair of striped pink underwear on her head. "Love the hat, Akane!" Ranma shouted. He couldn't help himself. Akane blushed and scrabbled for her head. Ranma began to laugh, but he was brought up short by a distinct sensation of heat coming from his hand. He looked back at the old man, and was a little surprised to see that his battle aura was beginning to shimmer to life. "Hey, Gramps..." "Ranma," growled Happosai with unmistakable menace. "How dare you deprive an old man of his one joy in life? How dare you treat your Master with such disrespect?" Happosai's battle aura was a force to be reckoned with. Ranma dropped the old man before he burned his hand. Most of the time, Happosai would take his punishment when he was caught and go on his way, but every so often the old guy took it all personally. There was no telling when the lecher would get all angry like this, but when he did, it always spelled trouble. Ranma backed off into a defensive stance. "Cool down, Gramps. You're gonna give yourself a rupture or somethin'." It wasn't the right thing to say. The old man's aura flared. While Happosai usually looked like some sort of pitiful lab failure, when the fighting spirit was upon him he was a terrifying sight to behold. He appeared to grow in stature, menace radiating from his every pore. The expression he wore as he glared at Ranma was filled with wrath. "Time to teach you some respect, boy..." Then came the inevitable interruption. Tendou Soun and Saotome Genma were suddenly in the yard, prostrating themselves before Happosai in a most pathetic fashion. "Oh please, Master! Please, I beg you!" they whined. "What do you two want?" Happosai snarled. "If you're trying to beg for mercy for that snot-nosed punk..." "Who're you callin' snot-nosed?" Ranma snapped. "No Master!" Soun wailed. "But have mercy on my poor dojo! Please don't fight here!" Ranma rolled his eyes. The way these two turned to quivering jelly every time the old goat gave them so much as a mean look was pitiful to behold. "C'mon, Gramps. We don't got all day, y'know." the old man thought. - - - - - - Any time Ranma squared off against a foe in one of the vacant lots around Nerima, it was sure to draw a crowd. Happosai had been keen to get the fight started as quickly as possible - no long delays or formal challenges this time - but the word-of-mouth network around Nerima was effective enough to draw forth a fair-sized crowd even on such short notice. Nabiki and her crew took the bets, and the onlookers gathered at a respectful distance to watch what would surely be a fine spectacle. Akane approached Ranma, clutching P-Chan nervously. "Ranma, be careful. He seems really angry this time..." "Ah, don't worry, Akane," Ranma said confidently. "That old geezer ain't so tough. I've taken him out before, I'll do it again. You'll see." "Don't underestimate him, Ranma!" Why did he always have to be so arrogant? Couldn't he see how dangerous Happosai was when he was like this? "Ranma," Happosai announced. "This fight is for real, you understand? I don't want you thinking you can get out of this by turning into a girl or throwing some underwear this time." Ranma shrugged. "No problem, Gramps. You ready?" Happosai answered by taking a mighty leap skywards. "Face the terror of... HAPPO DAIKARI!" With that, the old martial arts master launched a volley of fire bombs at Ranma, their short fuses hissing as they built up towards detonation. With too many of them to catch and throw back, Ranma reacted by leaping directly into the spray, dodging the bombs as they came and letting them detonate behind him. In mid-air, he closed the distance between himself and Happosai, launching into a flying kick as he dodged the last of the bombs. Happosai thought. He snagged Ranma's ankle in the crook of his pipe, whipping the young martial artist around his body in a single blinding arc and sending him hurtling to the ground below. Ranma slammed into the turf, sending up a shower of grass and dirt. Happosai landed, allowing Ranma a moment to struggle to his feet before he began his next assault. "What's the matter, boy? This old man too much for you?" "I'm just gettin' warmed up!" Ranma charged Happosai, who held his ground and waited. "So predictable," the old man lamented. "HAPPO BEANJAM BLOWOUT!" Ranma barely managed to avoid getting caught in the midst of the miniature tornado that erupted from Happosai's outstretched hands. The residual wind blew him backwards and away from the lecher once more, though. The members of the crowd behind him scattered desperately as the tornado attack sailed by them, plowing into a wall and sending up a shower of debris. Ranma regained his footing and whirled to face his adversary, only to find that Happosai had disappeared. As Ranma cast about for his foe, he and the assembled crowd were startled by the sound Happosai's disembodied voice, seeming to echo from all directions at once. "Recognize my Happo Dimensional Warp Technique, boy?" The old man cackled madly, his ghostly voice reverberating through the air. Ranma smirked. "Yeah, sure. But you can't attack while you're invisible, can ya? That technique's worthless in a fight..." He was interrupted by a sharp pain from behind. Happosai's surprise attack sent Ranma hurtling to the turf once more. The old man was visible again. "Maybe I can't attack while I'm invisible, but you didn't know where I was coming from, did you?" Ranma snarled and rolled to his feet again, wincing in pain. The old guy could sure pack a punch when he put his mind to it. "What's the matter, boy?" Happosai taunted. "Ready to give up? Or maybe you're thinking of using the >snort< Saotome Secret Technique!" "Not on your life!" Ranma pounced towards the old man with blinding speed. "KACHUU TENSHIN AMAGURIKEN!" "Oohs" and "aahs" arose from the assembly of onlookers. This technique was always a real crowd-pleaser. Ranma rained blows towards the dodging old master, his fists moving with impossible, blurring speed. But Happosai's speed was equally astonishing - he slipped between each of Ranma's punches with such quickness that he seemed to be teleporting out of the way of the blows. For several seconds, the two maintained this relentless pace of attack and defense, until suddenly one of Ranma's punches connected solidly with his adversary's tiny body. The withered form of Happosai rocketed backwards across the vacant lot, finally skittering to a halt on the turf. Happosai thought. Ranma was back in his fighting stance, a confident look on his face. He felt a lot better now that he'd nailed the old man with a clean hit. "You're slowin' down in your old age, Gramps!" Happosai rose, his battle aura flaring to life around him. He made himself look as angry and fearsome as possible.