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Genma Saotome wasn’t a careful man. When he stumbled into a new technique called the Nekoken, he rushed right into setting up the training for his crybaby of a son. He could already see how it would solve all of his problems. Ranma would become stronger, stop whining about his training, and become the manly man he needed to be in order to save his– Genma’s, that is– neck. All it would cost was throwing his son into a pit of starving, feral cats! That was basically nothing, really– Happosai had done worse to him and he’d turned out just fine!
Maybe.
Probably?
Whatever, it was simply a matter of manliness and honor that Ranma be thrown into a pit of feral cats, no use delaying it. Genma, with his usual level of care, awoke early in the morning to dig himself a pit. If he hurried, he could finish it and gather enough starving cats before Ranma woke up. This is where he made the first and only mistake he would ever make in training the boy– the slant of the pit was just a bit too slight, gave just a bit too much for a rabid animal to cling to.
So it was that, when a seven year-old Ranma Saotome was awoken with a bucket of water to the head and a string of fish sausages tied around the waist, Genma had full confidence that his masterful plan would come to fruition. He maintained this confidence right up until he tossed his son into the pit and, instead of the expected screeching and howling, heard only a dull thud and the muffled cries of his son.
After a few moments, Genma finally looked down into the pit. Even in the dark, he could tell there were no cats down there– but there sure were a lot of worms.
Later that day, after his poor son had burrowed his way out of the pit, Genma would declare a half-victory: Miraculous cat powers they were not, but his son was now the first ever master of the newly-coined Worm-Fist.
<~~~~~~>
Akane played back the last few minutes in her head as she made her way towards the furo. The red-headed girl who had shown up at the Dojo’s doorstep just a while ago was… strange. Not that there was a problem with her! Akane was so glad to have someone else in the dojo who took both her and the Art seriously. It was just that, the way she moved was a bit uncanny. She hadn’t noticed it at first, too focused on forced engagements and pandas and cute redheads blustering in to be observant of it. But once she’d dragged the girl off to spar, it was immediately evident in the way Ranma ducked and weaved around her strikes.
It wasn’t the fact that Ranma was able to perfectly dodge everything she threw at her– no, that had just been frustrating. It was the way that Ranma dodged. Not once, in their entire spar, had Ranma allowed herself to leave the ground; at least one foot had always been firmly planted on the wood flooring of the dojo. When Akane had tried to take advantage of that fact, going in for a low sweep of her opponent’s legs, Ranma didn’t jump or try to back away. She just… wiggled her legs out of the way. Akane wasn’t sure how else she could possibly describe it. One moment her foot was about to make contact just below Ranma’s knee, the next moment it swept through empty air as her opponent’s leg bent out of the way without Ranma ever losing her steady footing. Akane had been so thrown off by it that her opponent was able to fully capitalize, closing the small gap between them in milliseconds to deliver a light flick to Akane’s forehead, bringing the spar to an end.
After that, Akane had kept a close eye on her fellow martial artist. Just in the short time it took to thank her for the match and direct her to the furo, she had noticed the same strangeness emerging even in Ranma’s ‘normal’ movements. When Ranma bowed to her to acknowledge the end of a good match, the bend happened not at the waist but somewhere slightly below. When she moved her arms, they bent not quite at the elbows. When she moved her legs, it was not quite at the knee. It was as though Ranma was an imitation made of putty– always trying to bend and articulate at where her joints should have been, but never getting it right.
Once Akane noticed it, she couldn’t un-notice it no matter how hard she tried. She was honestly worried what she’d see when she joined her in the furo, but she’d steel herself and bear with it. This was a strong woman just like her, a new friend… Just act like it’s normal.
Just act like it’s normal.
Just act like it’s—
There was a stranger in the furo. Some boy with black hair tied up just like that of Akane’s new friend. A pervert. Akane was going to scream, going to beat him black and blue until he told her what he’d done with her new friend.
She opened her mouth to yell. The boy stood up to stop her and—
The screech caught in Akane’s mouth, sputtering out like a doused flame.
That was—
Akane wasn’t a fan of boys, and that very much extended to their anatomy.
But that… thing, dangling between Ranma’s legs… It wasn’t supposed to be… wiggling like that, was it?
Akane turned, slammed the door of the furo shut, and emptied her stomach right there in the hallway.
<~~~~~~>
Gosunkugi was on that fool Saotome’s trail. He knew, with absolute certainty, that Saotome had to have some kind of weakness. He’d seen the aftermath, the pitious idiot writhing uselessly in the dirt, taking up Akane’s precious concern. If Gosunkugi just used his skills, his attunement with the shadows built up over years of quiet stalk— er, observation— he knew he’d be able to capture Saotome in his moment of defeat with the dastard left none-the-wiser.
With that in mind, he nestled himself down inside his chosen bush. Its dark green leaves and small barbs tore into his skin, making his outer skin match up with the constant pain within his darkened soul. It would all be worth it though, Saotome would come around the corner any minute now and reveal some new facet of himself for the dark wizard to exploit.
Gosunkugi heard oncoming footsteps from around the corner and raised his camera to immortalize the moment for future research. As Saotome rounded the corner he raised his right hand up, forming a V around his eye as though posing for a cam— ahem, as though posing for some invisible— no, that didn’t work either… As though… performing some strange, pose based jutsu? Yes, for surely the dunce couldn’t see through Gosunkugi’s cloak of pain and shadow. Regardless, as Saotome did his… thing… a girl from the Gardening Club rounded the corner behind him and slammed directly into his back.
Gosunkugi gave a wan smile as he watched Saotome fall. The smile grew ever-so-slightly when the girl continued to stumble forward, dropping a box of dirt right atop the deserving fool’s head. Then the smile grew painfully large, splitting right across his face as he watched the supposedly ‘brave’ Saotome begin to whimper and writhe. From amongst the dirt coating his body, dozens of small worms emerged and joined Saotome in his strange and tortured dance.
Gosunkugi snapped a picture.
And then another.
And then another, and another, and another. This was it, this was the key to everything! He burst up from the bush, uncaring to the way its thorns slashed across his skin as he began to cackle into the air.
“Heh heh heh. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Yes, Ranma Saotome, I shall lead you now… into Worm Hell!”
<~~~~~~>
Tatewaki Kuno stood patiently in the Furinkan gymnasium. His strange, sickly underclassman Gosonkami had approached him and promised that he’d finally found that foul sorcerer Saotome’s weakness. If it was true, then Saotome would be forced to let loose his noxious grip upon Kuno’s pigtailed goddess. She would be freed to accept Kuno’s hand, to freely frolic and kiss and bind herself in eternal union with her beloved.
Kuno stepped into the gym, kendo sword at the ready. He cast his eyes around, paying no mind to the ongoing basketball game around him as he searched for the sign that his once star-crossed love was now free of the curse called Saotome Ranma. He couldn’t help but laugh, hugging his sword to his chest as he imagined the pig-tailed girl seeking comfort in his arms…
As he lost himself in visions of a blessed future, he failed to notice the rumbling below his feet until it was too late. One moment he was dancing with his goddess in the middle of the basketball court, and the next he was flung clear across the gym as an explosion of earth rocketed out from below his feet.
From within the newly formed hole emerged the foul sorcerer, having cast aside his facade and revealed his monstrous self for all to see. For, even if that thing looked human, the way its limbs writhed and contorted themselves failed to belie its underlying inhumanity. Even Kuno, the Blue Thunder of Furinkan, was almost caught unawares when the sorcerer’s writhing form slipped through the air and shot towards Kuno like a wiggly bullet. He was barely able to raise his sword in time, fending off Saotome’s cowardly headbutt at the cost of his favored sword splitting in twain.
Despite the disconcerting nature of his opponent Kuno returned to proper stance, split sword still held aloft to strike at his foe. The foul beast, sensing Kuno’s battle aura, wiggled away in fear. Kuno watched triumphantly as the beast slipped forwards, burrowing through the wall of the gym just next to the doorframe. Chasing behind it went fair Akane and a few other, completely unimportant individuals.
“Feh, the vile beast has tucked tail and run.” Kuno sheathed his broken boken and left in the opposite direction, dreams of slain beasts and rescued goddesses dancing through his head.
<~~~~~~>
Shan Pu watched with bated breath as the water churned below. Any moment now, her Airen would re-emerge having once again failed to seize the Phoenix Pill from her great grandmother. He would finally be forced to admit defeat, finally see that Akane girl was just dead weight and acknowledge Shan Pu as his rightful wife.
As if to reaffirm her vision, the universe saw fit to land her beloved right in her arms as he was flung out of the open ocean. Her great-grandmother Ku Lun, on the other hand, gracefully emerged from the water balancing upon a massive shark. Truly, her Airen was a hundred years early to defeat her,
“Ranma, it really time you give up! You can’t beat great-grandmother!” Shan Pu smiled down at her Airen, nestled safely in her arms. Instead of admitting defeat, though, her beloved’s eyes hardened as he leaned up to bring their faces closer together. Shan Pu couldn’t help but shiver, and it wasn’t the cool ocean breeze. No, it was the way her Airen looked so determined, the way she could see the gears practically spinning in that beautiful feminized head of his.
Maybe Ranma would realize the futility and finally concede, or maybe he would even ask Shan Pu for her help! It would be working against her own interests, but if her Airen just batted his pretty eyes at her… well, what would it hurt to help him just a little bit?
Instead, though, to Shan Pu’s horror Ranma jumped out of her comforting arms and directed his attention to the useless dojo girl, Akane! “‘Kane, did’ja bring… the secret weapon?“
Akane stared at Shan Pu’s Airen, a mix of concern and… disgust? directed towards him. “Are you sure, Ranma?”
Shan Pu started feeling disgusted herself as her beloved grasped Akane’s hands in his own, bearing down on her with pleading eyes. “I need ya ta do this for me, ‘Kane! Please please please please please?”
As Ranma batted his eyes, Akane’s resistance slowly crumpled into resigned acceptance. Slowly, reluctantly she pulled out a small waterproof box from… somewhere in her bathing suit that Shan Pu did not want to think about. Still, Shan Pu couldn’t help but lean forward. Whatever was in that box, it had to be something impressive for it to be treated with so much care. Before Shan Pu’s eyes, Akane slowly pulled the ‘weapon’ from its container.
Shan Pu furrowed her brows.
It was an… orange fuzzy tube with googly eyes, attached to a string? Having been raised in the Amazon village, Shan Pu knew not to judge a weapon by its appearance— what seemed from the outside like a useless plunger could always turn out to be an ancient soul-sucking artifact. Still, this was just a fake worm on a string. What could it possibly..?
Shan Pu watched, baffled into inaction, as Akane began to pull the string along the length of her arm, smoothly looping around and around so that it looked like the fake worm was wiggling its way across her body and weaving its way through her fingers. Enraptured by the strange ritual, Shan Pu almost didn’t notice as her Airen’s limbs began to shake and twist in unnatural ways. As Akane continued to wind the worm-on-a-string around her body, Ranma's contortions became more and more intense, limbs losing all sense of human limitation. His legs jelly below him, he collapsed to the ground and began writhing, muscles across his body relaxing and constricting in a pulsing rhythm.
Akane’s face began to turn slightly green, with Shan Pu’s face not far behind as Ranma’s contortions calmed until his whole body wiggled and pulsed in one steady beat. Ranma tilted his head to the sky before plowing straight down, burrowing down in a cloud of sand. By the time Shan Pu had wiped the irritating sand from her eyes, any evidence of her Airen’s presence had been completely erased. She looked to Akane, and Akane looked right back, their uncertain expressions mirroring each other.
They didn’t say anything, awkwardly standing together on the shore as they watched Shan Pu’s grandmother continue to dance around atop her shark. One minute passed, then two as they waited for anything to happen. Shan Pu was just about to start questioning the dojo girl when Ranma burst up from the water like a speeding dolphin, chomping the Phoenix Pill right off of Cologne’s necklace.
For a moment her Airen continued to wriggle in the air, levitating unnaturally as though his squirming could propel him just as easily in the air as in the sea.
Then, Ku Lun lost complete control of her shark. The large, carnivorous fish looked to the succulent, wormy form of her Airen and decided to act out the same tragedy that had played out for worms around the world since the invention of fishing. Tossing Ku Lun off, the shark lunged upward and in one massive bite enveloped almost the whole of Shan Pu’s Airen.
As the crowd on the beach watched in horror, the shark swam for deeper waters while Ku Lun made her way back to shore. In her grip were the last remains of Shan Pu’s beloved. A single arm, brutalized just below the elbow but still wildly spasming as it was dumped unceremoniously into the sand.
The world shrank as Shan Pu collapsed into the sand along with it, her senses narrowing until all she could hear were muffled screams around her as she stared down at the remains of her departed. She could feel her great-grandmother’s calloused hands rubbing her shoulder, but it did nothing to stop the flow of tears blurring her vision.
Then, she saw it. She rapidly rubbed at her eyes, uncaring of the stinging sand as she forced them to stay open. Ranma’s arm, it wasn’t just spasming wildly in the sand like a chicken without a head. No, it was growing. A hush fell over the gathered crowd as they too noticed the growth.
Shan Pu couldn’t be sure how long it took, every second feeling like years as she watched the miracle play out before her. Muscles, bone, skin, all of it began to spawn from the bloody stump of Ranma’s arm even as it continued to spew out a mix of blood and fleshy lumps that was rapidly being churned into the sand. First the upper arm, then his shoulder, his torso, his arms and legs and neck and head. It all grew back, blood and flesh giving way to a layer of raw pinkish skin, right before their eyes.
The panda— Ranma’s father— surged forward and lifted the unconscious body to the sky, proclaiming it the fruits of a miracle years in the making. Some in the crowd cheered, in awe at the powers of Genma’s so-called “Worm Fist” training. Others— herself, Akane, great-grandmother and just about anyone with a brain cell, for instance— continued to stare down in horror at the mass of blood and flesh left mixed in the sand.
Shan Pu felt a sudden burst of homesickness. Maybe she could just return to her village, live in dishonor and shame, and never, ever leave.