Chapter 7. Trouble at the Rink

The morning after the gymnastics match, Akane mentioned to Kasumi that she and Ranma would not be home for dinner that night, that they would be eating out. She tried to sound casual about it, yet even so was careful to raise the subject only after checking that they were out of the hearing of both her father and Nabiki. She could just imagine the likely reactions of those two and had no desire to put up with either any earlier than necessary. Of course, they were going to find out eventually, at dinnertime if not sooner. Nonetheless, Akane wanted to delay that moment for as long as possible.

As dinnertime drew near, the three Tendo girls were gathered together in Akane's bedroom. Akane herself, dressed only in her undergarments, was going frantically through her closet. Kasumi sat primly on the edge of the bed while Nabiki lounged on the same bed behind her, pretending to look through a fashion catalog. Amazingly, Nabiki had not learned of Akane's dinner plans until the increasing amount of noise had penetrated the wall between their bedrooms, at which time she had wandered in to investigate the commotion.

“Why don't I have anything to wear?” Akane complained with a moan, as she searched through dresses hanging in the closet.

Without looking up from her magazine, Nabiki asked, “Are you sure this isn't a date? I mean, given how much trouble you're going to about getting dressed ...”

Akane stuck her head out of the closet door. “I told you, it isn't a date. We're just celebrating me winning the match. But it's a nice restaurant, and I want to look nice.” Her head vanished again and more rustling sounds came from inside the closet.

Nabiki winked at Kasumi as she said, “Perhaps you should wear what you've got on right now. I'm sure Ranma would appreciate it.”

The disembodied voice from inside the closet shrieked in outrage. “Nabiki!”

Kasumi pursed her lips and shook her head at Nabiki.

Akane stepped out of the closet holding a blue dress in front of her. It was a little longer than knee length, made of a soft fabric which would cling slightly but not overmuch. Kasumi considered the choice, then smiled and nodded her head.

Akane breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped out of the closet and started to pull the dress over her head. Kasumi cleared her throat. “You might want to put the pantyhose on first?”

From somewhere inside the dress came a strangled “Arggh!” Akane yanked the garment off, throwing it onto the bed. She dug some pantyhose out of her dresser and sat down beside Kasumi to smooth them over her legs. Then she picked up the dress again and once more pulled it over her head. Kasumi stood up to help settle the folds of the dress and zip it up the back. Nabiki turned another page of her magazine.

Akane selected a pair of shoes that would go with the dress, and set them aside to put on when they left. She looked around for several minutes before finding the purse she wanted, smaller than her usual one. She quickly transferred several items to this purse. Akane next grabbed a hairbrush and pulled it sharply through her hair, causing her to vent a yelp of dismay as it caught. Ignoring Nabiki's grin, Akane took a deep breath and slowed down, brushing her hair properly.

When she was done with her hair, the frazzled young woman went over to the shelf where she kept her small supply of cosmetics. She selected a shade of blue eye shadow which, while a little more bold than what she usually wore, was nevertheless fairly subtle in color. Akane checked it anxiously against the color of the dress, started to put it back as too dark, then changed her mind and took it down again. She sat at the desk, and tilted the small mirror resting there until she could see herself easily. Reminding herself to take it slowly and do it right, Akane took another deep breath, and carefully applied the eye shadow with a practiced touch. When she was done, she sat back and examined the effect.

Akane stood up and twirled around. “How do I look?” she asked nervously, half afraid of hearing the answer.

“It looks very nice, Akane,” Kasumi said encouragingly.

Nabiki added, “Gotta admit, sis, the effect is pretty good. I think it would help if you added some lipstick, though.”

Akane looked dubiously over at her shelf. “Won't my lip gloss do?”

Nabiki shook her head emphatically. “Nope. It's gotta be lipstick. Don't you have any?”

Akane shook her head. “No. Could I ... borrow some of yours?”

Nabiki considered, then shook her head. “No, and not because I'm being mean or want to sell it to you. The shades I use aren't right for the effect you're trying to achieve. I'm not sure ...”

Kasumi interrupted. “You can borrow mine, Akane. I think I have something which should suit.” She left the room, returning a minute later with a couple of choices.

Akane selected the one which seemed more appropriate, then applied it carefully. She examined the result in her mirror critically, before smiling. “Thanks, Kasumi! This looks great.”

“Hey! What about me? It was my idea,” Nabiki reminded her.

With an impish grin, Akane faced her second sister and bowed deeply. “Thank you very much for your help, honored elder sister. You are much too gracious.” Nabiki pursed her lips and looked back at her magazine pointedly.

Catching her oldest sister's eye once more, Akane asked for reassurance, “Do you really think I look okay?”

Kasumi smiled broadly. “You look beautiful, little sister.”

A glint could be seen in Nabiki's eye as she turned toward Akane once more and agreed. “Yep, pretty good, sis. Every guy there is gonna envy Ranma for being the one who asked you out.”

Akane growled, and once more declared, “It's not a date, Nabiki!”

Nabiki waved a hand airily. “Did I say it was?” she inquired innocently. “All I said was that he asked you out. I mean, he did ask you if you wanted to have dinner to celebrate, didn't he?”

Akane gave her sister a scowl which stated without words that she knew Nabiki was trying to get her back, and that she didn't appreciate it. “Ranma is not dating me. I am not dating Ranma. We are simply having dinner together. There is nothing mysterious or romantic about it.”

“Whatever you say, sis,” Nabiki replied in a conciliatory fashion. “By the way, did you remember to put some protection in your purse? Just in case?”

The neighbors down the street looked up briefly, but then returned to what they were doing. They were accustomed to the occasional shriek of fury from the direction of the Tendo house.

Ranma, meanwhile, was making his own preparations. After getting home from school, he'd asked Kasumi to go shopping with him. With her help he had used a portion of his winnings to purchase new clothes which were a little more dressy than his usual outfits. He was wearing them now, walking around experimentally in an attempt to accustom himself to how they felt. Ranma didn't want the lack of familiarity to distract him if he needed to fight to defend himself or Akane.

He heard Akane's scream of anger, causing him to wonder if he was making a mistake. Then he heard her bedroom door open. Someone rapped on his door and Kasumi called out, “It's time, Ranma.” He stepped out to find Akane just exiting her room.

When the two teenagers met in the second floor hallway, they were both extremely nervous. Their eyes darted around looking anywhere but at each other, and Ranma had to resist the urge to wipe away the film of sweat on his forehead. With an effort he forced his eyes to look at Akane, but was then stunned by the sight she presented. After a moment he realized that he was staring and forced himself to look away again.

At the moment Ranma was thankful for his inability to speak, as he was sure he would have stammered incomprehensibly. Instead he bowed slightly toward Akane, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor near her feet, and motioned in the direction of the stairs. Akane preceded him down the stairs, and Ranma followed, while trying to ignore the look in Kasumi's eyes and the smirk on Nabiki's lips.

The dinner was more quiet than either had anticipated. Ranma wrote occasional notes and passed them to Akane, to which she responded verbally, but he couldn't write very much since he needed his hands to manage the chopsticks. On the whole, however, Ranma was pleased with how their outing was going. He hadn't done anything stupid so far, and his goal to give Akane a chance to show her feminine side had been achieved. She also seemed to be enjoying herself, although he couldn't be entirely certain. He really wasn't very good at reading people's emotional states, his own included.

Akane was in fact enjoying herself, very much. The food was good, the service was excellent, and the young man across from her was behaving like a gentleman. He had even slowed down his consumption of the meal to a speed which might charitably be called normal. It also felt surprisingly good to dress up a bit, she didn't really get very many chances. She got rather tired of people calling her a tomboy, and hated the memory from elementary school where she had been forced to take the part of Romeo when her class put on the famous play by Shakespeare.

Ranma was looking very nice tonight also, Akane thought to herself. He had obviously gone to some trouble over his appearance. She might have preferred a little more conversation, but understood the difficulty. The only blight on the evening so far was the way Nabiki had been teasing her earlier. Akane had been quite right not to let her sister know earlier, or she would have had to put up with that all day. Why couldn't Nabiki understand that it wasn't a date?

A husband and wife walking past their table gave them a smile. Akane blushed softly. They were the fifth such pair tonight to react in such a manner, and Akane just knew it was because they were thinking something along the lines of “what a sweet couple.” She certainly couldn't make a scene by explaining the truth, so had to resign herself to allowing them to continue in their belief. The problem was that it was doing something funny in the region of her stomach. It was almost as if she wasn't entirely averse to letting them believe she and Ranma were a couple.

As they neared the end of the main course, the pace of conversation picked up a little, since Ranma naturally finished first and his hands were therefore free. At that point their luck ran out, for none other than Tatewaki Kuno walked by outside and spied them through the window. He strode into the restaurant, his face as dark as a thundercloud.

“So, vile demon,” he declaimed, “thou dost now seek to court the fair Akane Tendo! I challenge you to meet me in battle on Tuesday of next week, at which time this cast shall no longer embrace my arm!” With this he lifted a glass of water from the table and threw it into Ranma's face.

The now female Ranma jumped up and struck Kuno in the stomach, folding him over. He saw three waiters converging on the scene, who quickly surrounded the unwelcome guest. As they began urging him to leave, Akane also stood up. She bowed almost indiscernibly in Kuno's direction and addressed him.

“Kuno-senpai.” Her words dripped with scorn. “Ranma will meet your challenge on Tuesday as you request. At which time you will pay for disturbing our meal like this.”

Kuno gave her a patronizing smile, threw one last haughty glare in Ranma's direction, then finally allowed himself to be persuaded out of the door. Akane and Ranma returned to their seats, both giving sighs of exasperation. Ranma plucked at his damp collar. He hastily wrote, “Excuse me. I've got to change back.”

Before he could get up, their waitress came over. “Are you ready to order dessert? Oh!” She had just taken a closer look at Ranma. “I'm sorry, I thought ... um ...”

Akane managed a false smile, and told the woman, “This is a friend who stopped to chat with me for a moment. My ... escort is in the restroom, and will return in just a minute. We'll order dessert when he gets back.”

The waitress nodded with a bewildered expression, gave one more look at Ranma's suit, then wandered off. Ranma grimaced, stood, and headed off to the restroom. He returned a couple of minutes later, male once more, with some of the excess water now gone. Unfortunately they were unable to wholly recapture the earlier atmosphere despite the desserts, in which Ranma in particular took delight. They soon finished, paid the bill, and left.

During the walk home, Ranma's thoughts were mostly on Kuno. He really wanted to make the other boy pay for ruining their dinner, but wasn't sure just how to do so. Simply putting the older boy back into a cast wasn't the right response. ‹After all,› Ranma thought to himself, ‹I'm no thug. Don't want to start acting like one neither.›

But something beyond simply winning the challenge seemed called for. He just didn't know what that something was.

Akane knew that Ranma was brooding, and guessed at a little of what was going through his head. In truth, she was feeling much the same way. It had been a very pleasant evening up until the interruption. Still, she didn't want Ranma to bring home only dark memories of their outing.

“Ranma?” Akane spoke softly. “I just wanted to say ... thank you. It was a very nice night. At least, it was before Kuno-baka showed up. For that matter, it's still a nice night, now that he's gone. I'm ... glad that you suggested this. The dinner, I mean. To celebrate.”

Ranma turned and gave her a sunny smile in response. Akane felt her knees go a little weak at that smile. ‹What's wrong with me?› she thought. ‹I do not act like this. It's only silly, empty headed girls who can't walk straight when a handsome boy smiles at them. Uh ...› Her mental monologue paused for a moment as Akane hit a mental rewind button and replayed that last thought. ‹Did I just ... call Ranma ... handsome? Well ... I guess ... he is. From a purely objective viewpoint, of course.›

Steering herself away from the uncomfortable topic onto which she had wandered inside her head, Akane said the first thing that came into her mind, a suggestion which had occurred to her during dinner. “Say, Ranma. I was thinking, maybe, since you paid for dinner, that, you know, I could repay you by treating you to ice skating tomorrow? After school, that is. What do you say?”

Ranma stared at her blankly. He pulled out his pad and wrote, “I don't know how to skate. Pop never taught me.”

Akane gave him a devilish grin. “Well then, I can teach you. I mean, fair's fair. You've been teaching me in the dojo. Now I can return the favor by teaching you on the ice rink. Come on, or do you think you can't learn how?”

Ranma's eyes sparkled at the challenge, and he gave her a toothy smile which said he knew she was purposefully pushing his buttons. All the same, he wrote, “I can learn anything. I'll skate circles around you in no time.”

Akane's eyes narrowed. “Ooh, we'll just see about that! You're on, big man. Best skater after five trips to the rink gets treated to ice cream by the other.”

They laughed, although Ranma's was silent, and then they turned to walk through the gate of the house. Akane was immediately pounced on by her sisters, and dragged upstairs for a debriefing. As Nabiki returned to her bedroom later, she could be heard to mutter, “Hopeless. Utterly hopeless.”

The next day while preparing to leave for the ice rink, Akane was surprised when Ranma met her in the front hall in his cursed form. He started to put on his shoes, so it was obvious he intended to remain that way. Akane cleared her throat and he looked up.

“Why are you female right now, Ranma?”

He quickly wrote, “A man who can't skate looks ridiculous.”

Akane thought this through, trying to see it from his point of view. She shook her head. “For your information, it will look just as ridiculous for a woman.”

Ranma just shrugged and continued to put on his shoes. Akane gave a sigh and slipped on her own shoes. They left the house and were soon jogging along a wall in the direction of the skating rink.

When they got to the rink, Akane took Ranma to get some rental skates, and showed him how to put them on. He wobbled quite a bit when he stood up, but made his way to the gate in the wall readily enough. Unfortunately, they immediately ran into problems. The moment Ranma's foot touched the ice, his legs shot out from under him and he landed flat on his back.

“Um, I guess we'd better start by practicing standing,” Akane suggested. She helped Ranma to his feet, where he stood uneasily with a tight grip on the wall.

They began by moving slowly along the wall, with Akane trying to convince Ranma to slide the skates along the ice rather than stepping. She was beginning to think that five lessons might not be enough to even get him away from the wall and fully out onto the ice. Doggedly she kept trying to show him the correct way to move his legs and feet.

They took a break after an hour of tiresome effort, sitting at a table off to the side of the rink drinking sodas. Ranma had temporarily changed back to a boy. They weren't trying to converse at the moment. Instead they were just watching the other skaters out on the ice. Ranma heard a throat clear behind him and turned around.

“Excuse me sir. Could you tell me how to get to ... Ranma?!”

Akane spun around at this, and her face darkened instantly. “Ryoga! What are you doing here?”

The lost boy became suddenly nervous under Akane's glare. “I ... I'm lost. I wanted to get directions to Itabashi.” He turned back toward Ranma with a glare. “But as long as you're here, get up and fight me! I still want vengeance for you making my life a living hell!”

Ranma shrugged and started to stand, but Akane reached over and pushed down on his shoulder. He returned to his seat.

“No,” Akane declared. “Ranma and I are here to enjoy ourselves, and you're not going to ruin it. If you want to challenge him, fine. Do it properly, and agree to meet at the school after classes tomorrow. Or better yet, next Wednesday, so that you'll have a chance of finding it in time if you start looking right away.”

Ryoga flushed brightly, but could not bring himself to contradict the pretty girl. ‹Damn that Ranma! Not only does he make my life hell, but he somehow wound up with a beautiful girl. They're even sleeping together already. It's just not fair!›

He snarled softly while these thoughts wound through his head, then growled his response. “Fine! Ranma, I challenge you to a fight, to take place at your school at the end of the day, some day next week. As soon as I can find the damn place. We'll show everyone who's the better fighter!”

Ranma stood and nodded seriously, whereupon Ryoga turned around and stomped off.

“Honestly!” Akane huffed after the boy left. “He needs to get a grip! Maybe we should introduce him to Mitaka-sensei.”

Ranma's mouth opened in a silent laugh. After a few moments he wrote, “Doubt we could talk him into going. Not such a bad idea though. I know where his house is. Maybe Kasumi or your dad could catch one of his parents at home one day and suggest it.”

“You're not serious? You are serious. I was just joking,” Akane informed him dubiously.

Ranma wrote, “I've begun to think talking to someone about problems can be useful. Might help him. Can't hurt. Discuss it with Kasumi.”

Meanwhile, Ryoga circled the ice rink, unable to find the exit. His attention was on searching for the door rather than his own feet, leading him to stumble over a bag someone had left on the floor by a chair. Trying to catch himself, Ryoga's hand came down on an unoccupied table, flipping it over and sending a cup which had been left on the table flying through the air. The melted ice splashed him, his curse was triggered, and the little black pig struggled out of the clothing which now entangled it.

‹Damn you, Ranma! Why couldn't you at least show me to the door?› The pig looked around, trying to spot either his rival or a source of hot water. Picking the direction which seemed to be right, he started off at a trot. He realized his mistake when his hooves slid out from under him, and he skidded across the floor on his stomach, slowly rotating. ‹Ice?! But I thought I was inside some building?›

Ryoga took a slow look around himself, seeking some way off of the ice. Without warning, a voice came from behind him in a pitch so high his ears started bleeding. “Charlotte!”

Ryoga managed to look over his shoulder to see a girl bearing down on him, skating quickly, her long wavy hair flowing out behind her. An icicle of fear unaccountably stabbed his belly, and he started scrabbling his legs, trying to get traction on the ice. The skates suddenly circled around and appeared in front of his nose, and that frightening voice came again. “Does widdle Charlotte want to go home wif mommy?”

He tried to back away, to no avail. The girl knelt down, grabbed him by his neckerchief, and brought a fist down on his head. Ryoga lost consciousness, unaware as the girl lifted and snuggled him, shrieking about how cute her little Charlotte was.

Ranma and Akane stood up from their table, prepared to head out onto the ice for another round before calling it a night. At that same moment, they saw a girl approaching, carrying a black piglet with a spotted neckerchief.

After blinking in confusion for a couple of seconds, Akane called out tentatively, “Ryoga?”

The pig roused groggily at the sound of her voice. When he looked up and saw who was carrying him, he started squealing. “Bwee! Skwee!”

The girl holding him tightened her grip. “What are you talking about? This is my widdle Charlotte!”

Akane and Ranma both peered closer. “Um, no,” Akane said slowly. “Not really. He's, uh, ...”

A hand suddenly reached over the other girl's shoulder, and lifted the pig by its neckerchief. The handsome youth on the other end of the arm held it out toward Akane. In melodious tones, he offered, “Yours, I believe?”

“Ooh! Give her back!” demanded the girl from whom he had taken the pig. She began pounding on the boy's back.

As the boy dropped the piglet above Akane's hands, she jerked her arms back. “I'm afraid you're mistaken,” she told the youth. “He's not mine.”

When Ryoga hit the floor, he took off running, as fast as his little legs would carry him. The girl who had been holding him screamed. “My Charlotte! You let her get away!”

In an exasperated tone, Akane told her, “He wasn't your Charlotte. You couldn't have kept him anyway.”

The girl stamped her foot. “She was my Charlotte, and you let her get away!” She pointed a finger, the tip centimeters from Akane's nose. “I challenge you!”

Akane looked taken aback. “You want to fight me? Over a pig?”

The girl looked disgusted. She held up her skates. “‘Fight?’ How nasty! I challenge you to a skating match!”

Akane looked even more puzzled. Ranma looked on, amused. Akane repeated, “Skating?”

“Yes!” came the answer. “If I win, you find my widdle Charlotte and give her back!”

A bystander snapped her fingers and said, “Now I remember them. They're the champion freestyle skating pair from Kolkhoz High, Azusa Shiratori and Mikado Sanzenin.”

“Ah, it's such a burden to be famous,” Mikado said in an aside to the girl confronting Azusa, while being sure to present his best profile for her appreciation. When he was sure that she had gotten a good look, he faced Akane directly, saying, “I'm sorry that my partner has caused you trouble. By way of an apology ...”

Suddenly his fingers were resting on Akane's cheek and he was leaning over her, his lips fast approaching hers. Ranma's eyes widened in fury, and he reached out and grabbed the back of Mikado's coat, halting his progress bare seconds from contact. Akane's eyes narrowed, and her hand came around in a blur, cupped palm slapping against Mikado's cheek with a sound like a gunshot. The boy staggered several steps before regaining his balance.

Mikado turned around slowly, to glare at the pigtailed boy who had intervened. The slap from Akane he discounted; such reactions were a risk which he accepted. But he could not accept someone else preventing him from bestowing his favor.

Mikado spoke to Ranma in an icy voice. “To lay hands upon me is to challenge me. Very well, the match will be one week from today. The site will be at our school, Kolkhoz High. The event will be pair skating, you and this fair maiden against myself and Azusa. Is that acceptable?”

Ranma snorted his breath out and nodded. Akane spoke for both of them, “We'll be there!”

This incident robbed their afternoon at the skating rink of any further pleasure, so Akane and Ranma decided to head home. Akane kept glancing sideways at Ranma, wondering about his quick reaction when he stopped Mikado. Was it just a by-product of what he had suffered, causing him to react like that to any male who made unwelcome advances on a female? Or was there something else to it? She finally decided that she would never know, as she certainly wasn't going to ask Ranma which it was.

Instead she pointed out, “We're going to have to go over to the rink and practice hard every day, and even then it's a question whether you'll be able to skate well enough for the match next week. We should have demanded an extension.”

Ranma answered her with a twisted smile and a nod to show that he realized this. He gave a little sigh, knowing that Akane would think the sigh was a reaction to the thought of all the work required to learn to skate in such a short time. It wasn't though. Something else was bothering him. That the jerk Mikado would try to kiss Akane without her permission was more than enough reason to have grabbed him like that. Hell, he'd been ready to do a lot more than just grab him, if Akane hadn't gotten her hit in first. The problem was that, as a justification, this felt incomplete, like there was more to it than that. Like it wasn't the only reason he'd been so quick to stop Mikado.

Ranma shook his head irritably. The guy was an asshole, pushing himself on Akane like that. He didn't need any more reason than that for stopping him. Ranma shoved the thoughts aside with an effort and tried to distract himself by wondering what Kasumi was preparing for dinner. For once, not even the thought of food could entirely do the trick.

That night, lying down on the futon in the guest room, Ranma's thoughts turned once more to the events of the afternoon. He hoped that Akane would be able to teach him to skate well enough by next Thursday. He wanted to beat Sanzenin so badly he could taste it. As sleep claimed him, he wished that he was in the other room, so that he could feel Akane's arms around him. Or maybe his around her. Just in case he had another nightmare, of course.

The next afternoon, Akane and Ranma were at the skating rink again, getting in as much practice as they could before their appointment with Mitaka-sensei. By now, Ranma was moving around on the ice, slowly, tentatively, still wobbling a lot, but gaining confidence. As on the previous day, he had changed into a girl before donning his skates and stepping out into the rink.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Ranma? You need to angle your back foot slightly so you can push with it.” Despite her words, Akane was not yet exasperated. She was determined to put that Azusa Shiratori in her place, not to mention that pervert Sanzenin. Even if that meant finding hidden resources of patience — or developing them in the first place. All the same, Akane did wonder to herself whether she could really turn Ranma into an expert skater within a week.

They'd been on the ice for an hour, and Ranma was starting to show a little more mobility. Akane was about to call a halt for the day when something struck her in the back. She went sprawling on her hands and knees, then looked over her shoulder to see Azusa skating by. The other girl called back, “Oh! I'm sooooo sorry!” Insincerity dripped off every glass-bending word.

Irritated, Akane climbed to her feet. “You did that on purpose!”

Azusa was staring past Akane, a prim, amused smile on her face. “Now, now, this is no time for quarreling! Your little friend needs help.”

Akane spun around. “Wha...?” Her eyes went wide at the sight of Ranma sliding backward along the ice, out of control, arms waving wildly for balance. His face was contorted, visibly frightened due to his inability to stop himself.

Suddenly a pair of arms encircled Ranma's waist, lifting him off of the ice. He looked over his shoulder into the face of Mikado Sanzenin. The boy was smiling charmingly as he asked, “Are you all right, miss?”

Ranma nodded slowly. He wanted to be on his own feet again, but at least was happy not to be sliding uncontrolled across the ice.

Mikado's smile widened. “You seem bereft of speech. Believe me, it was my pleasure to assist you. It isn't every day that a girl as cute as you comes straight into my arms like that.” A single fingertip came up under Ranma's chin, tilting his face up to look even more directly into Mikado's eyes.

Ranma was mildly confused. He failed to grasp the implications of Mikado's actions and words since he regarded himself as a boy, and was not thinking in terms of a male holding a cute girl. Luckily Ranma was saved from any embarrassing consequences when Azusa skated by and drove a knee into Mikado's stomach.

Mikado spun around from the force of the blow and dropped Ranma. Azusa looked back over her shoulder and called out, “Please do your girl chasing later.”

‹Girl chasing?› Ranma thought. ‹Oh, gag! That bastard was coming on to me! I think I'm gonna be sick!›

Mikado straightened up. “There was no need to interrupt like that! And for your information, I wasn't chasing anyone. She came to me!”

Azusa stuck her tongue out at him. “You can talk to your widdle girlfriend later. Right now we have to practice the ‘Assault of a hundred foes.’”

Akane and Ranma both wondered just what the hell that meant, but the question was answered immediately. A multitude of skaters in hockey uniforms converged on them from all directions, brandishing their sticks menacingly. Mikado lifted Ranma once more and handed him to Akane.

“You two stay out of the way,” he told them, voice dripping with honey. “I could never forgive myself if either of you lovely ladies were hurt while we trained.” He gave them a gentle push in the direction of the gate.

Mikado skated back to join Azusa, and the pair linked hands. One of their opponents gave a signal, and the mob rushed in, holding sticks over their shoulders ready to slash downward. The golden pair remained frozen until the first attacker came within striking distance, but then blurred into motion. The spectators couldn't clearly see what was happening at the center due to the other combatants who were still moving in, but people in hockey uniforms were flying out of the throng to slide across the ice and smash into walls.

Within mere seconds it was over. Mikado and Azusa were posed triumphantly in the middle of the ice, and all one hundred opponents were lying around them. The ones who were still conscious were trying to assess whether they were sufficiently fit to climb back to their feet. Mikado pulled out a comb to straighten the few hairs which were out of place.

Off to the side, Ranma was nodding his head up and down, over and over again, looking happy. Akane gave him a curious look. He pulled out his pad and wrote, “It's martial skating. If it's a martial art, I can win.”

Akane looked unconvinced. “Huh! Yeah, assuming you can learn how to skate first!”

Other skaters were starting to return to the rink. Akane and Ranma both turned at the sound of a commotion. They saw a small black pig trying desperately to move across the ice, its hooves moving in a blur below it, as several girls converged squealing about how cute it was.

In an aside to Ranma, Akane asked, “Do you think he's been lost in here since yesterday?” Ranma could only shrug. On the one hand, Akane felt that the little pervert deserved whatever he got. On the other hand, it was a martial artist's duty to protect the helpless. She gave a sigh, then took off skating in Ryoga's direction.

However, just before she reached the pig, Azusa swept in and scooped him up, screaming, “Charlotte!” Before either Ryoga or Akane had a chance to react, the girl announced, “Here's a widdle present from Azusa.” With that she pulled off Ryoga's neckerchief and locked a collar around the pig's neck.

Akane shook her head but snatched Ryoga out of Azusa's hands. Holding him up she examined the collar, which had a little tag in the shape of a heart with the name “Charlotte” on it. Akane's suppressed laugh came out as a choke, and she was unable to keep a straight face.

“Hang on a second and let me see if I can get this off, Ryoga,” Akane told him in a voice which was strained with the effort not to laugh. The task proved more difficult than it first appeared, and Akane saw that there was a small lock on the collar.

Azusa watched from nearby, smirking. “It's useless,” she declared gleefully. “I locked it.” She held up a key. “If you want it off, you'll have to win the match.”

Akane was about to say something cutting, but then paused and stared past Azusa. Ranma was some distance beyond the girl, feet slipping back and forth almost uncontrollably, arms waving wildly. He was in a panic trying to maintain his balance, and it was a wonder that he hadn't fallen yet. Akane forgot about Azusa, as well as the pig still in her arm, and skated rapidly to another attempted rescue.

Once again before she could reach and rescue her target, a member of the Golden Pair swooped in. Mikado Sanzenin skated off, now holding the red-haired girl in his arms, and told her, “If you wish, I can teach you to skate.” Ranma of course was unable to provide any answer to this, but eyed the tall boy warily, hoping he wasn't planning to try anything. Mikado gave the girl a puzzled look at her continued silence, then sighed. “Well, if that is not your desire, so be it. But at least you can thank me for my earlier rescue.”

Ranma suddenly found himself in a dip, his torso nearly horizontal to the ice. He was looking up at Mikado, whose face was rapidly descending toward his own. With a shock, Ranma's hypersensitive nerves realized the boy's intention, and panic filled him as he twisted wildly to escape and punish the transgressor.

Mikado found himself with an armful of at least forty-five kilograms of madly twisting female. A hard fist punched him in the jaw before his lips could reach their goal. He tried to hold on, but the attempt was in vain. More fists struck, and kicks began to connect as well. Breath exploded from his lungs, pain blossomed in his chest, his arms and legs collected dozens of massive bruises in seconds.

The greatest pain came last, as a knee rose between the skater's legs hard enough to lift him half a meter off the ground. The final blow to the head was one of mercy, rather than a cause of further pain, for it relieved Mikado of consciousness. The boy felt a sense of relief at the blackness which claimed him.

Akane and Ryoga watched as Mikado slid down to the ice, a dark circle forming around his left eye. Ranma was somehow still on his feet above the boy, hyperventilating, his red hair seeming to crackle with static electricity. Azusa came skating up to poke at her partner, then pulled out a marker and drew a matching dark circle around the other eye.

Ryoga's tongue came out and licked around the edges of his mouth nervously. Of course, he was quite sure that if Ranma had been fighting him, that he would have given a much better account of himself. At least, he was pretty sure. Yes, quite confident really. Or ... fairly confident? If only his mind's eye didn't keep replaying that final strike with the knee, and imposing his own features on the receiving end.

Akane skated closer, and gently rested a hand on the pseudo-girl's shoulder. “Are you all right, Ranma?” she asked quietly.

Ranma sucked in a deep breath and held it, visibly getting a grip on himself. Releasing the breath, he turned and gave Akane a weak smile and a nod.

Akane looked down at the prone body. “You, uh, didn't break any bones, did you? Or anything else we should call an ambulance for?”

Ranma's smile faded as he shook his head negatively. Now that he was back under control, he was feeling sort of bad about how hard he had beaten Mikado. Not that the pervert hadn't deserved a thrashing for what he had tried, but it hadn't been necessary to go quite so far. At least he hadn't gone nuts and done anything terrible like he did to that Kodachi girl. In fact, Mikado would probably be back in working order, mostly, by Monday. Certainly before the match next Thursday.

Akane gave Ranma a smile at what she saw as restraint on his part. “Okay then. We'd better be going if we're to get to Mitaka-sensei in time. I suppose we can also stop off at the lost and found and see if someone turned in Ryoga's pack and clothes.” She looked down at the pig in her arm with a frown. He responded with a guilty look before lowering his head to look down at the floor.

They followed this plan, finding that someone had in fact turned in Ryoga's stuff. Ranma carried the pig into the men's room, where they both changed back to male and Ryoga got dressed. Ranma handed him a piece of paper which read, “We can fight when you show up for the challenge next week. Right now I'll help you get out of the building if you want.” Ryoga scowled, but said nothing and gave a sharp nod of his head.

A few minutes later they were outside the building. Ranma watched Ryoga head down the street, hoping the boy would find wherever it was he thought he was going. With a shrug he dismissed the lost boy from his mind, and he and Akane turned toward their therapist's office. It was a long walk, giving his nerves a chance to lessen their jangling by the time he and Akane reached their destination.

That afternoon, Mitaka spent most of her time with Ranma dealing with his feelings and reactions to Sanzenin's overly aggressive approach to romance. Or not romance so much, since they concluded that the boy did not feel any real affection for his targets, but was mostly trying to show off his “prowess” for the spectators. Ranma was amused as she explained that the boy probably acted like that due to his own doubts about his masculinity and ability to attract honest female affection.

Or at least he was amused until Mitaka gently led Ranma to notice the correlation to some of his own behavior. As Ranma thought about himself going around telling people that he was the best martial artist alive, ready to take on challengers at the drop of a pin to prove it, the boy winced. Did some people see him as being as much of a posturing jerk as that Sanzenin? It was an unpalatable thought, and he promised himself to do some meditating on the subject.

As he walked out of her office, Mitaka was feeling quietly pleased. The last time someone had tried to steal a kiss from Ranma, less than two weeks ago, the girl had ended up in the hospital with a serious injury. That Ranma had only administered a beating to the boy today represented considerable progress. Of course, the real reason Ranma's reaction to Kodachi Kuno was so severe was due to her binding him with the drug, which in turn induced a sufficiently strong emotional state to trigger the neko-ken. It was possible that if Mikado Sanzenin had been foolish enough to try to trap or bind Ranma in some way, the outcome might have been much worse. Still, she was inclined to feel optimistic about the way things were going.

When it was Akane's turn, Mitaka spent some time asking questions about their dinner at the restaurant, but soon left that topic. She didn't want to press Akane into any deeper considerations of her motivations at this time. Neither Akane nor Ranma was ready for a true romantic relationship yet, so she was content to let them continue as they were. Instead she drew Akane into discussing her reactions toward Ryoga, Azusa and Mikado over the events which had occurred at the skating rink.

After the sign language class the next day, Ranma, Akane and Kasumi were able to start making some limited use of it for simple questions and statements. In truth, they had already been making extremely limited use of it, such as Ranma's ability to answer “yes” or “no” to questions, or indicate numbers. Now, however, he could say basic things like, “More rice please,” or “Would you like some help?”

On the other hand, his vocabulary was still frustratingly limited. It would be a long time before he'd be able to forgo his pad with the two girls, and of course he would still need to have it ready to use for other people. He wanted to have his voice back so badly! Ranma was guiltily aware that he tried to force speech from his throat occasionally, beyond the attempts sanctioned by Mitaka-sensei, and despite her warnings. It was just so hard to believe that he couldn't bull his way through this, as he had for any other challenge he had overcome in the past.

At the end of the class, Ranma and Akane had approached the teacher and spent an extra quarter hour learning some basic terms they could use in the dojo. Expressions like “punch,” “kick,” “throw” and “attack.” Ranma was also hoping that by Monday his skill on the ice might have reached a point where they could begin practicing some martial moves there. If so, they could integrate those signs into their training, and even make use of them in the upcoming match.

After the previous day's debacle, Akane and Ranma had decided to practice at a different skating rink. They said their good-byes and took off, running down the sidewalk beside each other. While they were gone, Kasumi dialed a telephone number, wondering if the third day would prove to be the charm.

Apparently so. A female voice on the other end answered, “Moshi, moshi.”

Kasumi smiled. “Am I speaking to Hibiki-san?” On receiving an affirmative, Kasumi introduced herself, and a short conversation followed. Kasumi described herself as a friend of Ranma Saotome, whom Mrs. Hibiki remembered as a friend of her son Ryoga. The two women made plans for Kasumi to come visit at the Hibiki home later that afternoon. Kasumi already knew how to find it, as Ranma had given her the address and directions to the house.

Far to the southwest in Fukuoka, a Chinese girl with purple hair was roaming the streets. It had taken her some time to track down a rumor that her quarry had come ashore in this city, but the story she had finally unearthed of a red-haired girl arguing with a panda bear made it fairly certain that Ranma had indeed passed this way. She wished that the trail were not so cold. For that matter, she also wished that she understood the language better, as it was proving quite frustrating to ask people for information.

As the young woman walked along the streets of this foreign city, her thoughts turned once again to the family she had left behind. Her father, her great grandmother, her cousins. Never before had she been apart from them for such a length of time as this hunt had come to take. To give her spirit a boost she tried recalling stories her mother had told her, before she had passed on some six years ago. The Chinese girl imagined herself once more sitting in her mother's lap, listening with rapt attention to the tales of her people's history, their traditions, their duties.

Her pleasant daydreams were shattered by a sudden commotion on the other side of the street. A group of young men were harassing a schoolgirl, flipping up her skirt and, judging by the tone of voice and looks in their eyes, making lewd remarks. The few other people around seemed to be ignoring them. The Chinese girl felt fury erupt within her, to see a group of males treating a female in such a fashion. It was just such attitudes which her people had fled millennia ago, to found their own society, as told in the tales upon which she had only just been reflecting.

Such behavior was intolerable, and the young woman was in no mood to tolerate it. Here was an opportunity to vent weeks of frustration, not that she thought of it in those terms. A mace appeared in her hand seemingly from out of nowhere, and with flashing eyes she marched menacingly across the street.

It was several weeks before the young men in question were released from the hospital.

On Monday after school, students again gathered on one of the fields to watch Akane and Ranma spar, as they passed the time waiting to see if Ryoga would show that day. Neither noticed Kasumi on the periphery of the crowd, accompanied by a mildly stout woman in her thirties. As it happened, Ryoga did not put in an appearance.

Throughout the day Tuesday, Kuno told anyone who would listen that he would rid the school of the demon Saotome as soon as classes were ended. Few people paid attention, as they had heard these rants several times now, and both the students and teachers were already becoming accustomed to Ranma and his curse. Not that they intended to miss the action. Kuno's bones had knit, Ranma had agree to meet him after school, and it promised to be exciting.

When the final bell rang, all of the students, and several of the teachers, streamed out to the soccer field. Kuno strode out wearing his hakama, and carrying a bokken over his shoulder. Ranma was already on the field, waiting, dressed normally, looking bored. Kuno took up his stance, and mentally prepared himself for his attack upon the demon.

“Ranma Saotome! Prepare to die!”

Kuno's and Ranma's heads snapped around to look, as did the onlookers. Ryoga was standing there, face dark and fists clenched. His pack was on the ground at his feet. Seeing that he was now the center of attention, he stooped to pull out his umbrella. Rising once more to a standing position, Ryoga faced Ranma with a grim smile. Without warning, the boy launched himself forward, running toward Ranma.

Kuno stepped between them, bokken at the defensive. “Hold, varlet! I have challenged this demon, and now is the time for us to do battle! Why do you seek to interfere when the judgment of heaven is about to strike through me at the accursed one?”

Ryoga skidded to a stop and stared at Kuno. Then he shook his head to free it of the tangle of words. “Just get out of the way, you nut! I challenged Ranma, and I'm going to fight him! Now move aside, before you get hurt!”

“Nay, that I shall not do,” replied Kuno. “I have waited long for this day when I shall bring justice to the creature. For its crimes against the fair Akane Tendo, for the injury done to my depraved sister, it must pay. Now stand back, knave, before you too face the wrath of the Blue Thunder!”

“I don't believe this!” shouted Ryoga. “It took me three days to find this place, and you expect me to wait for my vengeance? Ha! You can have whatever's left when I'm done!” With that he strode forward, and attempted to shove past Kuno.

Kuno's bokken swung down, only to be deflected by Ryoga's umbrella. Ryoga snapped a kick at Kuno's head, but the kendoist dodged and brought his blade across from the other side. Ryoga leaped over it, and brought his umbrella down in an overhead strike to smash Kuno flat, but once again missed, blasting a crater into the ground instead.

Akane turned to face Ranma, saying, “Do you think they've forgotten they're here to fight y...?” The question broke off at the sight of Ranma watching the fight avidly, munching on Pocky, occasionally punching at the air with a fist in enthusiasm over some move one or the other of the combatants made. Becoming aware of Akane's scrutiny, he turned to regard her innocently, then offered her some of the Pocky.

Bemusedly, Akane reached out and took a piece, then turned back to the fight as she bit into it. She was just in time to see Kuno's bokken slice through Ryoga's umbrella, as the latter attempted to block a strike. Ryoga jumped back with a tear in his shirt, through which the spectators could see a long mark across his chest with a few beads of blood punctuating it.

Ryoga gave a low, menacing growl, then rushed in, ducking under another strike. One elbow drove hard into Kuno's stomach, while the other hand snapped out with a bandanna, which wrapped around the wrist whose hand held the bokken. As Tatewaki bent forward over the pain in his gut and tried to regain his breath, Ryoga pivoted around the tied wrist, disarming Kuno and tossing the bokken aside. With a snarl, the edge of his hand came down on Kuno's forearm, and the crowd heard the crack of bone being broken.

Ryoga paled at the sound. He had lost his temper at the cut across his chest, but now felt guilty for having gone too far. He looked down at his opponent who had sunk to his knees, and whose face was even more pale than his own.

“Ryoga!” A woman's shout came from the side, and Ryoga's head spun around. His face became even more pale at the sight of his mother bearing down upon him. He gently lowered the broken arm he was still holding aloft by his bandanna, until it rested across Kuno's thighs. Then he straightened up to face his doom.

“Ryoga Hibiki!” His mother snapped out his full name in that tone which only mothers can use. “How could you? What would your grandfather say if he could be here today to see how you use the martial arts he taught you? You had already defeated and disarmed that boy! What possible excuse can you give for breaking his arm?”

“But mom ...” Ryoga began.

“Don't ‘mom’ me, young man!” She told him sharply. “And what's all this I hear about you wanting to hurt Ranma-kun?”

“But he ... he ...”

“He what? I'll admit the boy can be overly arrogant, and conceited too, but he was also a friend to you. Or don't you remember all the times he helped you to and from school?” She gave her son a maternal glare. “So kindly tell me why I arrived here today to hear you shouting at Ranma-kun that he should ‘prepare to die’?”

“I, um, well, I, uh, I may not have been ... uh ... entirely serious when I said that.” Ryoga was sweating heavily.

“I don't particularly care whether you meant it seriously or not,” Mrs. Hibiki told him firmly. “It was inappropriate, regardless. I can well believe that Ranma-kun may have insulted you, or done you some similar wrong, but that hardly justifies you in issuing death threats!”

Everyone was watching the exchange between mother and son in fascination. Kuno was looking around through a glaze of pain, wondering if anyone was going to get medical help for him. Mrs. Hibiki looked around at the stares, and pursed her lips.

“Ryoga-chan, you will come with me, now!” she whispered sternly. Raising her voice, she called out, “Ranma-kun, would you mind coming with us?” Ranma nodded, and he and Akane followed behind Ryoga, who was walking with hanging head behind his mother. Kasumi was also there and accompanied them.

Kuno looked around at the dispersing students and faculty. His voice called out weakly, “Help ...?”

Nabiki walked up to him with a smirk. “Need some help, Kuno-chan? Sure, I'll be glad to.” She paused for a beat. “For ten thousand yen.”

“Witch,” Kuno muttered, without heat. “Very well. Also, please inform Saotome that I have not forgotten, and it shall face me when I am healed once more.”

The small party rounded a corner of the school, and stopped there when Mrs. Hibiki saw that they would have a little more privacy. She looked upon her only child, and shook her head in exasperation.

“Before we discuss your behavior any further, young man,” she stated tartly, “may I ask for the story behind the collar that you're wearing?”

Ryoga's hand came up self-consciously to hide the tag with “Charlotte” engraved upon it. He blushed furiously. “I, uh ...” Ryoga's features firmed. “It's all Ranma's fault!”

“Ranma-kun put the collar on you?” Ryoga's mother asked.

“Um, no,” Ryoga answered meekly. More angrily, he told her, “But it's all his fault that it was able to happen in the first place! If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be ... uh ... uh ...”

“Cursed?” inquired his mother. Ryoga's face flushed again. “Tendo-san,” she nodded in Kasumi's direction, “explained to me about that, although I admit that I'm having a great deal of trouble believing it. However, I won't humiliate you by asking you to demonstrate here and now.”

Ranma held up a hand, drawing attention. He walked over to a water fountain on the outside wall of the school, and splashed some water on himself. He returned to the group as a female. Mrs. Hibiki swallowed heavily.

“I, er, thank you, Ranma-kun. I'm very sorry to hear about your curse as well, and ...” Her eyes closed, and she shuddered. “Oh dear, I don't think I fully realized ... really believed ... Oh Ryoga, my poor baby!” She flung her hands around the boy, squeezing him tightly. His head swiveled around taking in the expressions on the others' faces, looking even more embarrassed now than he had over the collar.

She drew back after a few minutes, holding her son at arm's length, blinking away tears. “Well, what's done is done. Somehow, we go on. It's not like we're not accustomed to life's little vicissitudes, what with our other little problem.” Her features grew stern once more. “Now would you please explain why you blame Ranma-kun for your, um, new problem?”

“I, uh ...” Ryoga really didn't want to talk about this, but he couldn't refuse his mother. Especially with the look she was giving him. “Well, it started with a duel where Ranma was supposed to fight me last December.”

“You mean the one where Ranma waited for you for three days?” Akane asked innocently.

Ryoga's face darkened. “And when I showed up on the fourth day, he had run away, like a coward. So I followed him. For months. Never quite catching up. Until one day ...”

The boy got a faraway look in his eyes. “I was standing on a cliff, looking over a valley. I heard a noise, and looked up to see this huge panda bear about to trample me. I jumped over it, but there was a girl running behind it who knocked me out of the way. A red-haired girl ...” He turned to glare at Ranma, who did his best to look innocent. An attempt at which he failed miserably.

“I fell over the edge of the cliff, and landed in a pool of water. I ... changed.” Ryoga's voice had grown husky, making it sound like he was holding back tears. “I nearly drowned, until a ... paw ... came down and lifted me out. But not to save me. They threw me into a pot of boiling water to cook me. Of course, that changed me back, and I was able to escape.”

Ryoga looked over to Ranma again, baring his teeth. “And it's all Ranma's fault! If he hadn't run out on our duel, I wouldn't have followed him! If he hadn't gone to Jusenkyo, I wouldn't have been there! If he hadn't knocked me off the cliff, I wouldn't have landed in the cursed pool! I've been through hell because of him.”

Ranma looked abashed, but Mrs. Hibiki gave a deep sigh. “Now Ryoga, please think. Ranma-kun never struck me as the sort to run out on any duel.” Ranma shook his head to emphasize his agreement. “You couldn't expect him to wait forever. After all ...”

She stopped as Ranma pressed a piece of paper into her hands. She read, “Pop knocked me out on the third day. Dragged me away.” She showed the note to her son, and said, “You see? Ranma-kun didn't run away on purpose. It was his father. Now he I could certainly see running off.”

She sighed again. “It was your decision to follow them, so I don't want to hear any more of your blaming Ranma-kun for that. As for what happened on the cliff ...” She turned to Ranma. “What do you have to say about that?”

Ranma looked highly embarrassed. He wrote, “Don't remember it. Was chasing pop for getting me cursed. Too angry to remember anything else.”

Mrs. Hibiki frowned at the red-haired teen, causing Ranma to cringe. Turning back to her own son, she continued. “You said the girl was chasing after the panda, didn't you? So did she really knock you aside, or did the two of you just collide?”

“Of course he ...! Um ...” Ryoga squirmed. His mother was giving him that look again. The same look she had given him at age eight when he tried to blame their dog for breaking the lamp. “He ... he ... it's his fault!” Ryoga's voice rose to a wail. “His fault! Not mine! His!” The boy slumped down to his knees in front of his mother. In a voice of utter despair, he whispered, “I turn into a pig, momma.”

The woman gave her son a gentle look and stroked a hand through his hair. “Shh, Ryoga. It's a terrible thing, but you're my brave boy, right? Now let's go home. There's someone I want you to talk to. We'll give him a call, and he'll come over to the house before dinner.”

Ryoga looked up at her, puzzled. “Who?”

His mother continued smiling gently. “Just someone who's a good listener. Someone you can tell your problems to, who can help you think things through.”

Ryoga worked his way through this. “You mean ... some sort of ... shrink?” His face twisted in repugnance. “I don't need someone like that.” He looked at Ranma out of the corner of his eye to take in his rival's reaction, feeling humiliated over the suggestion. To his surprise, Ranma was not sneering, but was instead holding out a hand with his thumb up.

Mrs. Hibiki retorted. “Now you don't need to worry about Ranma-kun thinking less of you because of it. After all, he's seeing a therapist himself.”

Ryoga came to his feet quickly, spinning around. “You! The great Ranma Saotome! You're seeing a shrink?!”

Ranma shrugged, looking amused rather than offended. He pointed to his throat, then opened his mouth, saying nothing. Again he held his hand out with his thumb up.

Akane spoke up. “Ryoga-kun, Ranma and I have both been seeing a therapist.” She blushed as she admitted, for the first time, that she had been receiving therapy as well, and not just having chats with Mitaka-sensei during Ranma's sessions. “Believe me, it can help. Just having someone listen to your problems, without telling you you're just being silly, it's ...” She paused, groping for words. “You should give it a try.”

Ryoga shook his head, baffled. He was hearing their words, but it wasn't making any sense. Ranma had become a towering presence in his life, if a dark one upon whom he lavished hatred and blame for all that was wrong. The idea that Ranma was talking to a therapist, that was just crazy! Impossible! Ranma, like himself, solved all of his problems with his fists! Didn't he?

“Ryoga?” He turned at the sound of his mother's voice, and saw that her eyes were pleading. “Won't you try this? For me?”

The tension drained out of Ryoga, and his arms hung loosely. He couldn't refuse such a heartfelt request from his own mother. Still looking confused, he answered her, “Okay, mom. I'll try.”

Mrs. Hibiki smiled, but said nothing more. She took her son's hand, then nodded to Kasumi. With a smile of her own, Kasumi led them off, to help the pair to return to their home. Akane and Ranma gave identical sighs of relief as they watched the trio depart.

“Let's keep our fingers crossed,” Akane suggested. Ranma gave an agreeing nod.

Kuno was surprised that he actually received some sympathy from his classmates the next day, when he showed up with a cast on his arm once again. The sympathy rapidly wore off as he described how he would rain vengeance down upon the head of the demon Saotome as soon as the cast was off.

By the end of skating practice Wednesday, Akane was feeling marginally cheerful. Ranma's skill on skates had improved considerably. His determination to acquire that skill had increased astronomically after Mikado's attempted kiss. They might not be as graceful on the ice as the Golden Pair, but Akane was hopeful that their martial skills would make up the difference.

Thursday found Akane and Ranma standing outside of Kolkhoz High School, ice skates draped over their shoulders and held by the laces. A sign in front of them announced that the “Charlotte Cup” was being held that day. Taking deep breaths, they entered the building, side by side.