Chapter Text
The story goes, there was a young martial artist who was cursed by ancient magic to turn into a girl or back into a boy when splashed with water. He met many who saw him as a rival, potential spouse, or in more than a couple cases that could not recognize his forms as the same person saw him as both—in spite of his having little interest in matters of romance and desiring only to live as he wished.
The young martial artist and a large group of those to whom he was connected decided to take a trip on the boat of one of the people from the third category, a wealthy young idiot with delusions of nobility. That boat ran aground in a storm, and the young martial artist and his companions became embroiled in a conflict with the prince of a floating island who sought a bride.
Eventually, their conflict concluded with all parties reaching not only peace but a kind of friendship, and the young martial artist and his companions made ready to return to their home on the mainland of Japan.
So the story goes, in one version of things.
The story goes, there was a world where a percentage of people were cursed by ancient magic that gave them strange powers that were limited by being robbed of all their strength when immersed in the sea's waters. In spite of this, the people of that world developed a culture of traveling by sea as a matter of necessity due to the scarcity of landmasses large enough to be labeled as continents.
Some of these people, including those who had the strange powers, took to the seagoing lifestyle as pirates. One in particular would become the most notable or notorious, depending upon who you asked and when, and perhaps even simultaneously.
Eventually, he would draw a group of loyal companions to him, and become embroiled in a conflict with the powers that dominated the world as he knew it. He would lose family and rediscover it, be sought as a husband or bounty in spite of having no interest in matters of romance, and desiring above all else to live as he wished.
So the story goes, in most versions of things.
The story goes, a girl among those that the boy prince captured as a potential bride was not from Japan, nor any of the nearby islands, nor from any ocean or landmass in that world.
Her name is not too terribly important, for the time being.
But the fact of the matter is that she was cursed, and knew it.
Oh, misfortune!
To be lost from her home, a young woman alone.
It was surely the fault of that damn fruit, that had glistened like rubies set in silver.
It hadn't even tasted good.
So the story goes, in this version of things.
Saotome Ranma awoke from the revels on Tōgenkyō to find that he had slept through a storm.
This wasn't out of the ordinary for him, mind you. Even before becoming cursed in a way that discouraged being out in the open during heavy rain, Ranma's lifestyle as a wandering martial artist in training had meant that it was a better idea to stay inside and rest when the sky opened up. The alternative was a soggy gi and time wasted on recovery.
It was still late night (or perhaps very early morning) when he arose, drawn awake by his body being now used to the idea of getting going as soon as the weather calmed. This was coupled with his father's frequent insistence on early morning training sessions, travels to their next destination, or flight from debtors. Even after almost a year living at the Tendō home, Ranma still found that the habits instilled in him by his father Genma would cause him to sleep lightly and wake early.
Said father was, of course, passed out drunk in the next room. He had collapsed into a borderline scandalous embrace with his longtime friend and fellow student of the same grandmaster, Tendō Sōun—both reeking of alcohol. Any excuse for a party, Ranma supposed…although maybe the peace following the battle here on the floating island of Tōgenkyō was a better excuse than most of those that the older men dreamt up.
At the very least, this time they hadn't been celebrating a new scheme to wed Ranma to his fiancée-by-arrangement, Tendō Akane.
If there was any one relationship that was the bane of Ranma's existence, it was that arrangement.
He would have been very happy to have Akane as a classmate, friend, maybe even rival. She was, in his opinion as one who would never voice it out loud on purpose, crazy cute. Short-tempered, fighty, and just the absolute worst when it came to traditionally feminine skills like cooking or sewing, but—well.
There wasn't a 'but' about it, not really.
In the quiet of the night as interrupted by snores and the isolation of darkness, Ranma was able to admit that he found Akane cute just as she was, not in spite of anything else about her.
The problem was, they were expected to marry. He couldn't just admire her on his own terms, figure out at his own pace how exactly he felt and how precisely to express that to her.
He'd taken more than few hits for her, both literal and metaphorical.
For instance, he'd evaporated the waters at the base of the great tree of Tōgenkyō, because Akane was going to fall in them. It would have meant that she'd be trapped in the form of a man, just like Ranma was often trapped in the form of a girl.
Preventing that catastrophe had also meant dashing the best chance he'd had at a cure.
In the night, Ranma wondered why he didn't feel more torn up about that.
He didn't like wondering about that.
Too much time spent thinking about questions like that always left him feeling kind of…floaty and disconnected. It wasn't good for a martial artist to feel unrooted from his body like that.
But sitting in a pitch-black room, navigating by the sounds of others outside and the feeling of the air around him, Ranma knew he'd spiral into those feelings all to quickly.
There was nothing for it but to take a walk.
Or maybe a climb?
Ranma hopped over to the room's large, open window and landed on the sill, his balance ensuring that he was perched perfectly to slip out into the starlit night.
He gazed up and out, catching sight of the massive boughs of the great tree, each one itself as big as some of the oldest trees he'd seen, and leapt.
Branch to branch, perch to perch, he hopped along like a fidgety squirrel until he reached an end where he could more clearly see the night sky above him.
Stargazing was an easy hobby for a wandering martial artist to come by. The night sky had aided in navigation throughout human history, and stars as well as the spaces between them formed some of the oldest records of storytelling that could be found anywhere.
It was the right time of year to spot Orihime and Hikoboshi, Vega and Altair.
He didn't care about the romance of the myth around the stars or anything like that, really.
It was just, well, Tanabata was a big holiday, and at a time of year when he didn't have to worry about snow or nothing. They were familiar, was all.
It made it easier to orient himself at night, looking up into the….
Completely unfamiliar night sky.
They were far enough out at sea that more of the night sky was visible than people in the cities ever saw, so it wasn't that anything was obscured.
The Milky Way spread beautifully above the island.
With…completely wrong stars.
Ranma cast his gaze about.
He tried leaping over to another massive branch and checking the sky from a new vantage point.
Again.
Again.
Again.
At some point, Ranma realized that he had more than circled the entirety of the castle-sized tree and still did not recognize any stars.
That was….
That was worse than he had words to describe.
Bounding back to the trunk of the tree, Ranma came to the nearest window and rapped his knuckles against it.
After a moment, a pair of ruby-red eyes gazed out at him.
Shampoo, or more properly Shanpu, or even more accurately Shānpú.
If Ranma's engagement to Akane was a complication, his relationship with Shānpú was a catastrophe.
Her people, as far as he understood it, were matriarchal warriors who added strength to their bloodlines by way of marrying men who defeated them. Although she sometimes got lumped in as one of 'the fiancées', the big problem with Shampoo was that she seemed to think they were already married.
"Àiren?" Shampoo asked as she opened the window, "What is wrong?"
"The stars," he said, hooking a thumb back towards a sky that wasn't really all that visible from here. "None of 'em are where they should be, I circled the whole way around."
"I see," she replied, backing up and patting the windowsill.
She had a worried look on her face.
"Aw, c'mon," Ranma protested as he climbed in, "I know people don't ever believe me 'bout nothing, but I know the constellations and junk! I've been on the road all my dang life."
Shampoo shook her head, already heading towards the door from her room. "No. I do not doubt you—I was woken up in the middle of the night by a bad feeling. Also too, I felt something very strange in the storm."
That explained the lights being on in her room, and her being dressed in something other than pajamas. She led the way from her room towards another of the many bedrooms in the castle, and raised a hand to knock at the door.
Just before her knuckles landed on the wood, the door swung open, and her great-grandmother was facing the two of them.
Cologne, Koron, Kělún, O-Baba, or just the Old Hag was probably the most knowledgeable martial artist Ranma had ever met¹, and if the way she talked didn't suggest that she was over a century old, the fact that age meant she'd shriveled up into a wrinkled thing with roughly the size and appearance of a pickled plum was probably a good indicator.
"I take it you two are here about the strange disruption felt during the storm?" Her wizened voice asked.
Ranma's opinion of the old lady had improved a bit recently, especially after she'd lent a hand with the whole kidnapped girls thing that had happened on the island. So, he wasn't too ashamed to admit, "I got no idea about that. But I went for a walk outside, and the night sky's all wrong."
"It would explain the feelings I woke up with," Shampoo added. "Like Lost Boy tried to lead me somewhere."
"Let's investigate the sky before waking anyone else up, then," the old woman said, leading the way by hopping up onto her weathered old walking stick and pogoing through the hall.
¹ Actually, the most knowledgeable martial artist Ranma had ever met was the little old lady who routinely splashed him while washing the sidewalk outside her house, but she was retired and nobody ever asked.
"Those certainly appear to be the wrong stars," Great-Grandmother said, leading Shānpú and her spouse along the sandy beaches at the edge of the island. "And I've spent enough time in both hemispheres to say we didn't just float too far south by accident."
"How's that possible, then?" Ranma asked, her voice in this form having a particular character that Shānpú still struggled to reconcile with the man her spouse had been born as.
She told herself that it was just because it was jarring to hear the same vocal tics, word choices, rhythm and tone in such a drastically different voice.
She told herself this because it had to be that, because she had to marry a strong man to prove that she was not a disappointment.
She told herself that to distract from the horror of what they were seeing.
It wasn't working very well.
"Are we…."
"In some other world? I wouldn't discount it as a possibility."
Great-Grandmother's tone belied the terrible absurdity of that statement.
"Like in one of those cartoons where a hero gets summoned to save another world or something?" Ranma asked, her voice sounding increasingly distraught as well. "That stuff's just for kids, right?"
"I wouldn't discount it, Son-in-Law," Great-Grandmother said softly, looking around for something. "Tell me, have the two of you noticed an extra pair of footprints?"
Shānpú looked down at the sand, and bent down to touch one.
In spite of being at the edge of the beach, far from the high tide, it was soaking wet.
"Wind and rain like we experienced last night would have cleared these if they were made before the storm," Great-Grandmother explained, hopping down from her walking stick to examine another set of prints.
"What you're saying is, someone came out here onto the beach before we did?" Ranma asked, and waved helplessly towards the foreign sky. "After…this?"
"That seems the most likely explanation, does it not? Come, you two. Let's see where this trail leads.'
They did not have to go far before Shānpú spotted the end of the footprints:
A girl laying in the sand, staring up at the sky.
She was making some kind of noise, and as the trio came closer, Shānpú could hear that it was a strange kind of laughter.
Something like, "Jiiikukuku~! Jiiiikukukuku!"
High and manic, as it became obvious that her eyes were red with tears and her smile was frighteningly wide.
At their approach, she sat up and turned to face them more fully. Shānpú recognized her as one of the girls Tōma's minions had kidnapped and then promised to release after their defeat: a slight, unremarkable foreigner with black hair that curled around her face in tight circles.
That manic, toothy smile widened on seeing the three of them.
"A hundred and seven tries. I almost gave up, you know?" The girl asked, getting to her feet and dusting the sand off of her body with her hands.
Somewhere back at the palace, alarm bells started to clang.
"I take it that you are responsible for the island's transportation?" Great-Grandmother asked, holding her walking stick out to block Shānpú and Ranma from advancing. "Quite a feat for such a young girl, I think."
"You presume much," the girl said, her brows furrowing. "As I said. One hundred and seven tries. Each and every one a little bit more wrong, always overshooting or under-guessing. But that's all done—and I've got just enough charged up to leave even this place behind."
As she said this, she held out her arms, looking from the left to the right.
A strange pattern glittered on the inside of her right hand, like green and blue and blue-green stars. As she held the limb out, the specks seemed to increase, stretching just a centimeter or so from her hand and onto her wrist.
"Always worth it to overcharge a little," the girl said as if to herself, clenching the fist with the sparkles. "Yet another month stuck in your miserable excuse for a world, waiting for the chance to try again."
Footfalls and voices clamored from behind as people approached from the castle, but Shānpú did not avert her gaze.
"Perhaps you could be so kind as to explain to an old woman whose senses increasingly betray her: do you mean that you are not from our world?"
The girl scoffed, raising her head to look down her nose² at Great-Grandmother.
"Who would ever want to be from your crappy world? Out of all the ones I've seen, it's maybe at the top of the bottom twenty-five, and I've wound up back in it enough times to know."
"Yeah, well I still like it better there, so why don'tcha send us back?" Ranma growled, straining against Great-Grandmother's stick.
In spite of Ranma's rudeness, the girl's expression shifted as though she was considering her words. As she did, a rosy light illuminated the beach, and a boyish voice called out.
"Then you are the one responsible for these events? I agree with Saotome-kun!"
Thus descended Tōma, Prince of the floating island of Tōgenkyō, here to fuck it all up.
From out of the gleaming illusion of a peach, the brown-haired, tan-skinned young boy emerged. Shānpú had learned that his illusions were somehow the result of light reflecting off of the strange sword he wielded, creating convincing three-dimensional images that the viewer was somehow tricked into treating as having actual mass and heat.
He was also a spoiled brat who had to learn that you didn't just go around kidnapping women to force them to marry you—anyone with any sense knew that kind of thing was for women to do to men.
Unfortunately, Tōma did not have the sense that nature gave a blind duck, so he leveled his sword at the girl who had apparently caused an entire island to travel across space and time.
She snarled, "Fruit…always fruit. If I never eat another fruit, it'll be too soon!"
As she spoke, the glittering on her wrist intensified, and she moved her hand to be held open over her own chest. Wind started to blow in whirls around her as the glowing intensified, her teeth bared and her brows low.
"Wait, child! Please, if there is any mercy in your heart, return us to whence we came!" Pleaded Great-Grandmother, moving her stick as if she meant more to protect Shānpú and Ranma, rather than to block them.
"I'm not a child any more! I'm not anything of your world, and I don't care about you people at all! I'm the daughter of the Duke of Shincastle, Assiti Margaret! And this is my world!" The girl screamed, and then clapped her hand flush against her sternum. "Jikū-Jikū-ken…!"
A ring of light burst out around her, knocking Shānpú, Ranma, and Tōma backwards in the sand. Great-Grandmother held her place as the wind seemed to increase to hurricane strength, battering all of them and creating a massive shallow in the sand like the trap of an ant lion.
At the center of it, the girl—'Margaret'—drew back her hand in a fist. The glowing now surrounded her hand like a tiny blue-green sun, rippling and guttering wildly.
Something burst off of the beach towards her, but between the glow, the noise, and the blowing sand, Shānpú couldn't make out what it was. She could barely keep her eyes on Margaret as the girl leapt forward in a wild strike, throwing her punch towards Great-Grandmother with a final cry of, "PAAAA!"
Another ring of light exploded outwards, and the girl vanished.
² Being as Kělún stood under fifty centimeters, practically everyone in the world looked down their nose at her. She considered this a wonderful opportunity for putting the pointy end of her walking stick in their nostrils.
Akane couldn't believe her ears.
Another world.
Bad enough they'd wound up on a strange and impossible island where they ran the risk of being subjected to more magical curses and dealing with animal people, but even after all that had finished, they had somehow been transported to another world entirely?
"That seems to be the reasonable assumption, going off of the observable details and what was said by the young woman before she vanished through the portal she had created," Cologne said to the assembled crowd of Nerima residents, girls from various islands, and the men of Tōgenkyō.
"Seem it not that a solution doth present itself within thine own testimony?" Mused the perpetual thorn in Akane's side that was Kunō Tatewaki. The egotistical kendōka had an expression like he was saying something very smart, sneering slightly and attempting to sit so as to catch the light of dawn that was only now filtering in through the windows of the palace's largest gathering room. "We simply find the witch and entreat her by whatever means we might possess to return us from whence we came!"
"There's two problems with that, paisen." Ranma deliberately flipped the usual order of 'senpai' as part of his usual attitude, holding up two fingers to count. He lowered the index finger first as he said, "One, we ain't got no idea where she's gone to anyway, and two—"
"Mine beloved pigtailed girl, such crude manners…."
"—Two, it's obvious from what she said that it takes time for her to charge it up, and I keep telling you I ain't your nothing! I'm a guy, damn it," Ranma continued, meeting Akane's gaze as he looked away from Kunō.
On the one hand, it was true that Kunō-senpai plagued both of them with his courtship, insistent that they were meant to be and heedless of any objections from either Ranma or Akane herself. He seemed to have a level of willful ignorance of reality that went beyond just missing that Ranma's two forms were the same person.
On the other hand, Ranma wasn't exactly selling himself as the peak of masculinity.
Still in his curvaceous cursed form, Saotome Ranma lounged near to Granny Cologne in a pose that would be indecent even if he was fully covered up, his shorts and tank top swapped for a high-collared, high-hemline qipao that Akane was really trying to not focus on.
What was he up to wearing something like that, anyway? He probably did it just to make sure people paid attention to him…stupid attention hog.
Like he wasn't already worth looking at?
Anyway! The important thing was that important things were being said.
"That's not entirely true, Son-in-Law," Cologne corrected Ranma. "Recall how the girl announced herself."
Ranma's eyes went skyward as he seemed to try to recall. "Something like, 'Ah, Shitty Marbles'?"
"Assiti Margaret," Cologne pronounced with less effort. "But what I speak of is her mention of being the daughter of a Duke of some place called Shincastle."
"Then the prudent course of action might be to determine where we are relative to this 'Shincastle', and journey there," said Sarutoru. "If there is an amount of time we must wait, then surely we can do so after finding the young miss."
The monkey-man (or was that man-monkey) was the head of Tōma's servants, and spoke with surprising dignity for someone who looked like a child's bad job at coloring in a picture of Lupin III.
"Perhaps, but it is no simple task, if the geography of this world is significantly different from our own," Cologne warned. "We should not all leave—only those of us most experienced at navigating by sea, and who would not be of more use making sure everyone here on the island is safe. We are cut off from many resources we have all come to rely upon, and we do not know what threats may come across the waters to us in this world. For all we know, Tōgenkyō was just dropped into the middle of the local equivalent of hurricane season."
A shudder ran through the room, except for a small few.
Among them was Prince Tōma, who rose and bowed. "I may not have intended it, but it is obvious my illusions somehow worsened the situation; I will make amends by ensuring that all of my resources are available to all of you, and remain here to assist in governance and guide my own people."
Cologne nodded to him.
"I think you are on your way to being a truly excellent king, young Prince. As for those who will depart, if you would all indulge an old woman with a few ideas?"
Akane looked around the room, and nobody seemed to have any strong misgivings.
"We will need to leave a strong force of capable fighters here, in case the island is attacked while the exploratory group is away. Considering those who would be best-suited, I would suggest young Saotome Genma and Tendō Sōun for their experience," Cologne said, causing Akane and Ranma's fathers to sit up a bit more and attempt to present themselves as noble and reliable men. She went on to add, "The Hibiki boy, of course—I suspect he could easily repel most attacking forces himself—and Mùsī. The duck may also serve well in other capacities, if Tendō Kasumi-san does not mind being volunteered to be in charge of making certain everyone here is fed?"
Akane's older sister nodded with a gentle smile. "If Prince Tōma's people can assist?"
"My servants and resources are at your beck and call," answered the prince. "Again, it is the least I can do for how poor a host I have been."
Leaning forward, Akane asked, "And what am I supposed to do?"
"Why, you were one of the first that I considered for making the journey," Cologne answered with an expression of surprise so genuine and innocent that Akane thought it might be real. "Our disputes aside, you have proven yourself not only a skilled fighter against large numbers of foes, but someone who is almost unnaturally talented at befriending former adversaries."
"If Akane's going, then there's no way you're leaving me outta—" Ranma started to say, as another voice chorused along with him.
Kunō interrupted, "My beloved Tendō Akane-kun alone at sea without myself to protect her?"
Granny Cologne raised her hand in a gesture of peace. "At ease, boys. I had already thought the two of you were among the best—aside from myself and my great-granddaughter, I understand the two of you to have the most experience at sea out of anyone under two decades of age here."
That seemed to calm the two of them down, although now they were glaring at each other.
And another problem had been introduced.
"You expect me to just sit idly by while Ranma and Akane head off?" Ryōga asked, jumping to his feet with a fist raised angrily. He swung it out, splaying his fingers open as he yelled, "Who knows what kind of danger he might put her in!"
Akane turned to face her sometimes frustrating friend. "Ryōga-kun, it'll be fine. Besides, if I'm not here, I can trust you to keep Kasumi safe, can't I?"
All the fight drained out of Ryōga like someone had stuck a valve in him.³
"Oh, haha, well, of course, Akane-chan!"
As he started to mutter something to himself in a falsetto and make strange little motions, probably preparing himself for the scenario of needing to protect Kasumi, it was Ukyō who spoke up next. "Surprised you ain't nominated your own granddaughter for this, yet."
Cologne waved dismissively.
"That much goes without saying. Shānpú is an experienced combatant and traveler who is well accustomed to getting by in strange lands—" the elderly martial arts master began, only to head off any further objections as Ukyō reached for one of her battle spatulas by continuing, "—as I understand you yourself to be. In fact, if we are to deal with the need to acquire any financial resources, I believe that you and…yes, young Tendō Nabiki would be the final two choices, aside from myself."
"Me? Me?" The middle of the three Tendō sisters asked with a scoff. "You expect me to head out into unknown danger, away from the comfort of a tropical island paradise?"
Granny Cologne smiled, and maybe just a bit more smugly than was necessary.
"I expect you to go towards lands where your reputation is unknown and your skills at getting what is needed from people would prove highly valuable. Our foe spoke of being the heir to a Duchy—perhaps this world has yet more lands full of treasures and resources that can only be found in museums and the homes of the most wealthy, just waiting to be claimed by a shrewd negotiator. Why, they may even still use gold coins."
Akane could swear that her sister's eyes had been replaced by a pair of gleaming oval koban.
"Well," said the money-eyed queen of scams, "I think you may just have the right idea!"
Akane counted, "So, me, Ranma, Nabiki, Ukyō, Shampoo, Kunō-senpai, and you?
"And I," the old woman agreed. "The only remaining issue will be the matter of reporting back if our journey takes too long."
"I believe that I may have the solution to that quandary," Tōma's guard Toristan said. The bird man had resumed wearing a mask, and with it had returned to putting on a more refined manner of speech. "We have a number of messenger birds on the island, trained to travel to unknown locations and back home. They are really rather clever little things, you know."
"If it's a bird you need, then I can help, too!" Mousse interrupted. "I can keep an eye on the waters around the island and report back—"
"As long as you do not drop your glasses in the ocean," Shampoo said, opening her mouth to add more before her great-grandmother stopped her with a small gesture.
"I think that's fine. Having a few layers of redundancy is always a sound tactical decision," Cologne replied. "While it does leave us at the risk of one fewer fighter here on the island, I think we must take some risks in these unusual circumstances."
Practically preening in spite of being in his human form rather than the shape of a duck brought on by his Jusenkyō curse, Mousse stuck out his tongue at Toristan, who shook his head and took his seat once more.
"In spite of our losses against you in that little misunderstanding, my men and I are very capable warriors," Tōma said, patting the illusion-creating sword at his hip. "We will keep everyone here safe, and await your return."
Nabiki cleared her throat.
As the attention of those gathered around returned her way, she said, "I don't mean to be the bearer of incredibly obvious news, but aren't you all forgetting that Kunō-chan's boat was left in splinters…on a different island?"
"I try my best to put it out of mind, haha…." Kunō said with a slightly manic laugh. "Else comes madness."
Sarutoru spoke up. "That's another area where we can contribute. We have several fishing vessels the men regularly use for days-long journeys to acquire what food we cannot produce on our beautiful paradise of Tōgenkyō."
"Not to mention kidnapping young girls from other islands!" Yelled one of the girls to whom Akane hadn't yet been introduced.
She had a point, and Sarutoru bowed low. "A misdeed we well and truly regret. Please, anything we can offer is yours! I can't help but feel that nearly all of the blame for our current situation is on me for bringing most of you here."
A few murmurs spread throughout the room, but nobody seemed to have any further strong words to say about that.
"Then, we have determined an appropriate response to all of the bad news?" Cologne asked after another moment or two, and then grinned toothlessly. "Then it seems I must be the bearer of some good news. In the last few seconds before that girl vanished, Happi leapt onto her."
"The Master?" Ranma and Akane's fathers chorused, while everyone else said some variation of the old lech, that little sex pest, or oh no, how sad, poor Gramps in very unconvincing tones of concern about as deep as a kiddy pool.
"Yes indeed. It seems that he's her problem, now."
³ Or, perhaps, like he was fantasizing about Akane returning to find him atop a mountainous pile of defeated foes, from the top of which projected a suspiciously braided pigtail. "Oh, Ryōga," he believed she would sigh in a maidenly fashion, sinking into his strong arms and looking at him with a dewy gaze through a soft filter, surrounded by flowers. "I knew I was right to trust you with my family! Let's get married and have fifty babies."
Ranma found himself standing on the beach once again, staring at what he was pretty sure was the spot where that crazy chick with the weird magic had vanished.
His fists clenched at his side.
He'd faced a lot of crazy opponents with strange powers and bizarre techniques, but someone who could drag an entire island into…what, an entirely different reality? And then vanish through a glowing hole in the air?
This was a scale he hadn't imagined. This wasn't a martial arts problem, and he had to admit….
It had him shaken.
Maybe that was why he was out here, alone.
Especially because he was about to be crammed into a boat with not only Akane—which he had to admit, sounded maybe…alright on its own⁴—but also her sister, Kunō, the old hag, and two of the girls who were convinced that he should marry them, well…he could do with a few minutes alone.
That was why he'd come out onto the beach while everyone else prepared.
There was a whole lotta logistical crud he didn't really have the head for. After all his years being abruptly uprooted on the regular, Ranma didn't really have any treasured possessions he didn't keep on his own person at all times. He'd learned to pack light and fast and get by on basically nothing, to eat or sleep when the opportunity presented itself and to find enjoyment in what was available instead of what he might tuck away for safe-keeping.
Even if there was something he'd miss, like the small stack of manga magazines back at the Tendō home, or his old threadbare futon, it wasn't like he could pack them up while he was stuck in some kinda alternate universe or something.
So, he'd snagged a couple extra pairs of underwear and a shirt, a few less-perishable bits of food, and a towel.
The towel was a new idea he'd cottoned onto while living with the Tendō family, a result of reading a bit of some sci-fi book in translation that Nabiki had lent him to get him outta her hair for a while when he'd needed something from her. To be honest, he was kinda surprised his old man hadn't come up with the idea. A good towel was more than just a way to dry off when you were as water-prone as Ranma found himself.
Who knew what they were going to find out there. A nice big towel like he'd…found could serve as a privacy curtain between him and everyone else on the boat, it could function as a blanket or even a hammock for his smaller girl body, hell! He could probably even ditch the bag and wrap the rest of his stuff in the towel.
Maybe he could even come up with a few martial arts moves using it. He'd improvised more than a few times with fabric, clothing, blankets or sheets, curtains and junk.
…It was about halfway through devising a kata for use of a soaking wet towel when he heard the voices.
Ranma couldn't quite make them out from where he stood, so he cautiously edged towards a nearby outcropping of rocks to listen in.
The first voice reminded him of some of the scrawnier guys at school, sounding nervous, even panicked.
"You don't understand, this island shouldn't be here! It wasn't here when we journeyed this way in the first place, or we wouldn't have been on Goat Island."
"A mystery island," said the second voice, with way more confidence and curiosity—even if it sounded like one of the wimpier characters in Dragon Ball. "Sounds fun! Let's check it out."
Ranma peeked over the rocks as much as he dared⁵, ready to leap backwards and away if the speakers were more of a problem than their voices made them sound.
He found himself faced with, well, another face.
A teenage boy was peering over the other side of the boulder Ranma was clinging to, in almost exactly the same position as Ranma was. His skin was tanned in a way you didn't get just from lots of sun, his eyes were wide and dark beneath glossy black hair, and his smile was wide and toothy.
A hat hung by a cord around his neck, framing his head like the halo of the sun.
"Hi there!" The boy said, his grin stretching the scar under his eye. "I'm Luffy, who are you?"
⁴ It wasn't like he had fantasies of having time with it being just the two of them, away from their fathers and all the rivals and people with crushes on them and other weird problems, where they could just be themselves and maybe he could possibly kinda sort just perhaps work up the nerve to say something kinda important to her, it wasn't really a big deal but if it was just him and Akane and nobody was looking at him and could just breathe and be comfortable and relaxed, maybe splash his face with some cold water because that always seemed to lift the fog and then he could look at her, and she'd look at him, and this train of thought continued for roughly twenty-six minutes that are not directly accounted for in the preceding narrative.
⁵ This was the biggest mistake Ranma had ever made in his life. If he'd wanted things to be uncomplicated for the foreseeable future, he should've turned and ran into the sea.