The Bat, The Bird, The Horse, and the Tomboy
Chapter
3 - R
Ranma woke up as something hot and wet washed over his head. As his senses came online he was immediately assaulted by an absolutely horrid stench. He just *knew* that today was going to suck.
“Look’s like someone threw away a perfectly good Asian boy,” a voice said in English.
Ranma groaned as he started to push himself out of the trash dumpster that Do-chan had been so kind as to put him in. ‘Yes, today is definitely going to suck.’
“Better call the police, I think he’s waking up,” another voice commented.
‘Oh yeah, suck central.’ At least he woke up a guy. There was a sudden rumbling sound, like thunder and Ranma glanced towards the heavens as he scowled. ‘You can stay out of this.’ Springing the rest of the way out of the dumpster he startled two guys wearing janitor uniforms, one of whom was holding an empty coffee jar. “Excuse prease,” Ranma muttered in bad English before tearing off like a shot.
A few blocks down he slowed to a walk in order to avoid drawing attention to himself. Looking around he realized that avoiding attention was going to be as easy as avoiding water, which meant nearly impossible. His clothing (or what currently passed for it), his Asian appearance, and his unique odor were working together to make him quite noticeable. After being stared at long enough he decided to take to a higher road. Unlike in Nerima, however, most of the rooftops in Metropolis were many stories high and it took him several bounds to gain access to the ‘martial artist highway’. Once away from all of the people, Ranma sat down to do that most distasteful of things. He thought.
‘Okay, I entered the country illegally. No problem, I’ll just explain that I was kidnapped. They’ll want to know how I got here… hmmm… don’t really wanna involve the TPoC. I’ll just leave them out and tell the cops that the ship blew up and I swam here. No problem. Uh, don’t have a passport, or ID, or money… entered illegally… oh yeah, they’ll believe me. Crap. That damn ‘King Snake’ took all my stuff, dammit. I could try checkin’ in with the Japanese Embassy, but if I know pops, he got me a record with all his petty thefts… shit. Looks like that’s out. I gotta get me a new ID quick or the first time I have ta deal with the authorities I’ll be screwed… looks like I gotta get me a fake ID until I can get back ta Japan. But that means money. Shit. This is wanna them watchamacallits… catch-forty-twos or somethin’.’ Several hours passed and the sun set over the horizon.
It took quite a while, and a fast bath of rainwater, but Ranma finally found a restaurant willing to hiring him as a waiter. Or more specifically ‘her’. Fortunately for her, a uniform was provided. “<Damn, this thing is tight,>” she grumbled as she tried to get over the eternal wedgie that the tight spandex outfit was giving her. That, added to the fishnet stockings and extreme amount of cleavage showing was making her decidedly grumpy and irritable, but least the tips were good. Picking up a food tray with the smooth grace that was quickly earning her the status of ‘favorite waitress’, Ranma suddenly heard a series of explosions.
‘Calm down, there’s no reason to suspect you’re gonna be involved,’ she told herself. ‘Maybe they’ll just go away if you ignore them.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Yeah, right. Better get ready for a –‘ Suddenly one of the walls caved in as a burning police car smashed partway through it. ‘Fight…’
Ranma plopped the tray down on the table that ordered it before bouncing through the gaping opening. People all around were screaming and diving for cover as a strange, tank-like hovercraft plowed through a police roadblock down the street, heading in the direction of the restaurant.
‘I do NOT want to get involved,’ Ranma grumbled to herself. ‘It’s not my problem. ‘Sides, the police can handle it.’ Her words proved false as several more police cars joined the first one in parting this universe in fiery blazes. The redhead watched in horror as one of the flaming wrecks nearly creamed a small girl who was too scared to move out of the way. Fortunately the former vehicle ground to a halt before striking her. That was all the encouragement Ranma needed to make it her problem.
As the tank roared by, Ranma hopped on top of it. A solid punch and a severely bruised set of knuckles combined to make the martial artist realize that this particular opponent was not going to go down very easily. As the tank continued to blast away any obstacles in front of it, Ranma considered her next course of action. ‘Doubt my Fierce Tiger would do more than dent this thing. I doubt even the Demon God Assault Bomb would get through the armor. Hmmm…’ Thinking back to his fight with Ryu, the redhead suddenly hit on a plan. Smirking, she began looking around for what she needed.
Her eyes settled on a most unlikely source. ‘Is that a man flying up there?’ Ranma felt a moment of anticipation seize her as she thought for a moment that it was Saffron. The moment passed when she saw that the man had no wings and was wearing a hideous red and blue outfit, complete with idiotic cape. The martial artist’s eyes locked on the cape as the smirk grew to a grin. “<That’ll do,>” she muttered to no one in particular.
Flying at a low altitude, Superman followed the tank in its destructive rampage through downtown Metropolis. He was stunned to see a scantily clad redheaded girl riding on top. He was even more stunned when the redhead looked up at him and grinned. Suddenly the girl jumped from the tank and Superman felt his breath catch as he expected to see her plastered against the pavement. He was quite startled when the young lady not only struck the wall of a building, but managed to rebound with enough momentum to send her flying straight at him.
He turned to catch her and was absolutely stunned when the girl just seemed to vanish. He looked around desperately, trying to see where she was falling so he could save her. To his surprise, not only could he not find her, living or dead, but the street seemed to be strangely devoid of the rubble that he was quite sure had been there a moment ago. Scratching his head in confusion, he decided to put the mystery aside for now and return to his pursuit of the rampaging tank. “Why do I feel a draft?”
A short distance away, Ranma landed on top of the tank again. On her back was a rather enormous collection of debris, from parts of police cars to fragments of pavement and buildings, all bound tightly inside some red and blue material. Ranma sat down on top of the hatch and waited for the tank to blow some more holes in the road. When the time was right, she suddenly threw the huge bundle into the air. Just as the tank passed over some of the debris on the road, Ranma went into action. “<Demon Deep Sea Wrap Revised: Demon God Aerial Fold!>”
Superman had just caught back up with the tank when he saw the mystery girl throw a huge bundle into the air. “What is she doing carrying that? HOW is she carrying that?” Suddenly the redhead yelled something out in Japanese and that’s when all hell broke loose. Suddenly it was like someone created a black hole centered just above the tank. Cars, loose material, and all of the debris that came spilling out of the bundle in the air collapsed into a single location, namely the tank. In seconds the vehicle was completely encased and, with no way to continue hovering, came smashing down on the road, tearing up a bit more real-estate before finally coming to a halt. Superman could only stare in wonder for a few moments and contemplate what exactly had happened. Suddenly something occurred to him. ‘The girl! She was on top of the tank!’ Switching to his X-ray vision, the Man of Steel searched all through the debris but could find no sign of the redhead. Feeling both relieved and anxious, he hovered to a landing over the disabled tank.
Snickering caught on the edge of his hearing and the Hero of Metropolis looked around to find the source. He was surprised to see that most of the people who were still on the street, including the police, were looking at him. Some were obviously straining to keep from laughing while others seemed to have no such qualms. Ignoring them for a moment, he focused his attention instead on the oddly familiar cloth which had previously been holding the debris together. As he picked it up, the golden-yellow S on it caught his attention. Glancing down, Superman found himself standing in only his underwear: His heart-covered underwater.
A short distance away, a smirking redhead turned her back on the man, who was quickly turning a brilliant shade of crimson. She looked in the distance at the ruined restaurant and sighed as it was consumed in flames. ‘So much for that job. Looks like I go back ta fightin’ again.’ Ranma hated competing in underground blood sports. There was no honor in those fights, his opponents were often woefully inadequate, and there were all those dirty deals going on that left him feeling unclean. But they were a source of money and they wouldn’t care if he was in the country illegally or not. All they would care about was if he could put on a good show. He’d also have to find some new clothes soon.
Using the money he had already received from his job, Ranma got a set of clothes that were similar to his traditional outfit. It took him until just before nightfall to spot some of the telltales of an underground tournament and the dark clouds that had been building all day chose that moment to remind Ranma of just who was in charge. The red-haired martial artist growled at no one in particular as she dropped to the street and made her way to the arena. ‘Oh well… girls always get worse odds in these pits, so the money will be better. ‘Course gettin’ in could be a problem.’
As it turned out, getting past the bouncer turned out to be relatively easy as she simply knocked the guy out. That gave the fight organizers enough justification to let her in, despite her appearance. Her opinion of these tournaments remained unchanged as she saw a bunch of blood-thirsty people rooting and cheering on a couple of idiots who were busy pummeling each other into unrecognizable lumps. There was no glory here.
“Name?” The organizer asked her.
“<Ranma Saotome, of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts,>” the pigtailed martial artist responded in Japanese.
The organizer, a weasely looking man, blinked at her. “Come again, China-girl?”
Ranma’s eye’s narrowed dangerously. “Ranma.”
“Right. Well, Ranma, why don’t you rest your cute ass over there in the fighters’ area. We’ll let you know when it’s your turn.”
Ranma made a mental note to punch the guy’s lights out if he said another word. Ignoring the various looks that the other contenders gave her she started stretching out in the fighters’ area. When one of the combatants, a big Indian looking guy, bumped into her on purpose, Ranma ignored it. She knew better than to show her full skill in front of these guys. One thing Genma had taught her about these events was that you never, ever showed them what you were really capable of. If they had any idea, they’d either never let her fight or would weigh the odds heavily in her favor, which would make it harder to get any real money. She would have to compete tonight, get the prize money, and then return another night to bet the prize on herself.
She watched several of the other fighters take their turns in the ring before it was her time. From watching them she knew that there would be no real challenge here at all. Of course, she hadn’t had a real challenge since Saffr- She killed that line of thought and focused on the fight. As she predicted, all of her opponents were nothing compared to her skill. She made sure that each fight lasted a few minutes before she finished it. She even let them get in hits and pretended to be injured, but it was all a ruse to give the odds-setters a good show. When it was time for the final fight of the night, her opponent was the big Indian guy that had shoved her. Ranma smirked and let herself enjoy a bit of revenge as she let him get a few solid hits in and then pummeled the larger man into the ground. When he finally collapsed, unconscious, she waved to the crowd and gave them a little acrobatics show. Like any group of testosterone poisoned blood-freaks, the sight of a sexy little number like Ranma made her an instant hit. The organizer practically begged her to come back, which she agreed to. He even gave her a little extra money to get a decent place to spend the night. If Ranma wasn’t so repulsed by the man, she would have been grateful.
A short time later, Ranma relaxed as his body soaked in a nice, hot bath. It had taken him a bit to get used to the American style of bathroom, but in the end it didn’t really matter. A hot bath was a hot bath, and after the past few days, it was all he could ask for. The money he had been given was enough to let him get a duplicate of his favorite clothes as well as a fighting outfit similar to Shampoo’s. He figured it might help him make more money from the fights.
Sitting on the bed back in the hotel, Ranma grumbled as his mind began to wander. ‘It seems like any time someone else does something wrong, I get the blame for. Yeah, sure I accidentally knocked Ryouga into Jusenkyou, but it’s his fault for being there. Chasing me because his stupid sense of direction made him late for the fight. Then there’s Ucchan. How was I supposed to know all that crap that went down. Mom and her manly fixation. Pops and all the STUPID stuff he did. Does he get blamed for it? Yeah, but I’m still the one that has ta suffer. Every prince on the planet seems ta get the bright idea that Akane would make a great bride. Err… ‘course that’s true, but she’s MY fiancé. Now I’ll admit that Shampoo is kinda my fault, but ya know those Amazons could try explainin’ their laws ta someone before tryin’ ta kill ‘em or marry ‘em.’
Ranma flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. ‘And then there’s Saffron. What kinda choice was that ta give me? I can keep my innocence but Akane has ta die. Or I can save Akane and kill that rude, arrogant bastard. And get cursed by a goddess. And never get to be with Akane ever again. I hate my life.’
Ranma raised his hands and stared at them. ‘I just realized that I didn’t even think about my girl-side. Do I actually care about that curse any more?’ The martial artist examined his hands thoroughly as he considered that. ‘No, not really. It just isn’t as important as Akane is.’ Sighing to himself, Ranma glanced over at the clock. “Well, time for the pity party to wrap up. It’s almost time for the fight.”
At the tournament, which was being held in an underground parking lot, a female Ranma let her eyes wander over the other fighters. Only a very few of them were holding themselves in a way that indicated any decent skill. Two in particular caught her eye. One was a man with brownish-gray hair who carried himself with such a confident manner that he was immediately marked as a threat in Ranma’s mind. The other almost made her swear. Everything from the way he was checking out the audience more than his competition to the way he carried himself just screamed ‘cop’.
‘This just isn’t my damn week.’ The redhead crossed her arms and glared at the ring as she waited for her name to be called. She only barely gave any attention to the fighters that went before her. When it was her turn, she put her opponent down fast. As it turned out, that was the biggest mistake she could have made.
The man she threw out of the ring recovered quickly. The speed and ease with which the redhead had tripped him made him lose it. As the catcalls from the audience reached a crescendo, the man snapped. Reaching up, he grabbed onto one of the guards and before the man could react, snatched his gun. Spinning around, he aimed at the redhead and started to squeeze the trigger. Ranma smirked, feeling a thrill of anticipation run through her as she watched the man’s finger. ‘Well, I finally get the chance to see if I really can dodge a bullet.’
Suddenly the sounds of sirens echoed through the air. The gunman froze and looked around for a moment before Ranma rendered him unconscious with a well-aimed strike. The redhead cursed as the arena turned into a riot. Fighters, spectators, and goons spilled out of the underground lot, trying to escape as the cops surrounded the place. She had no intention of going with the police, but she also was extremely reluctant to hit a police officer. As she tried to figure out what she was going to do, the gray-haired man she had been watching earlier began calmly walking towards one of the waiting police vehicles. Ranma stared after him as he ignored the officers’ repeated orders to stop. When they opened fire, the martial artist fully expected to see the man drop, either dead or stunned. What she didn’t expect was for his clothing to fray as he kept walking. Surprised, she watched as he backhanded two of the police officers away from a patrol car before lifting the vehicle and hurling it at another with one hand.
Ranma chose that moment to curse for a number of reasons. The first was because she missed out on fighting such a strong opponent. The second was because she hadn’t gotten paid yet. The third was because her chances of getting into another tournament in this town any time soon were low. The fourth was because the strong guy was holding the cashbox under one arm. She frowned as she saw the man pick up one of the officers and begin to strangle him. Ranma may not have minded the man beating up on a cop, but she couldn’t stand the idea of letting one be killed. In an instant she crossed the distance to the man and executed a pain strike on his wrist. Ranma was stunned when the attack not only had no effect, but Ranma swore the guy was made from metal. Looking closer she could make out armor underneath the man’s clothing.
‘Damn, that is some serious body armor. Now, how to make him drop the cop… oh, never mind.’ Apparently deciding to play with his new opponent, the man released the officer in his grasp.
“Permit me to introduce myself, young lady,” he said with a somewhat mocking bow. “I am Metallo.”
Ranma returned the gesture. “Pleased you meet. I Ranma.”
“Shall we dance?” Without waiting for a reply, Metallo bolted forwards. Ranma was disappointed with the man’s speed, but she was impressed with his strength.
‘That armor must weigh a ton and yet he could still lift that car easily. It’ll be just like fightin’ Ryouga again. Let’s check out his jaw.’ Ranma meet the man’s rush, ducking underneath a punch and striking the point of his chin with an uppercut. The redhead’s eyes almost teared up as her knuckles let it be known that they were not pleased. ‘What the hell is he made of?!’
Metallo, for his part, was wondering nearly the same thing about the girl. He had actually felt her punch, and it had knocked him back a short distance. Before her, only Superman had ever done that with bare hands. “Well, well, well… you are certainly full of surprises.” Metallo chuckled.
“What you built?” Ranma shook her hand to get the feeling back as she reevaluated her strategy. ‘This guys at least as strong as Ryouga and definitely tougher… I’m gonna have to find another way of beating him.’
“Now that… is a secret,” Metallo commented with a smirk as he tore his shirt off, revealing a metallic torso and a heart of green stone. “Are you, perhaps, related to Superman?”
Ranma scowled as she tried to translate what the man had said. “Who?”
“Never mind, I’ll find out for myself.” Ranma didn’t have enough time to react as the cyborg’s eyes glowed green and then twin beams of energy lanced out to strike her in the chest.
Ranma felt a moment of panic seize her, but it vanished when nothing happened. Using the moment, she crossed the distance between her and Metallo and threw some of the rags from his clothes over his eyes, cutting off the beams.
Metallo reached up and tore the cloth away only to find his opponent gone. “Oh well, I have bigger fish to fry,” he commented, not noticing the lightly glowing girl behind him. Her presence was brought back to his attention as something slammed into him from behind. Digging himself up from the wreckage of the wall he had been smashed into, he turned around to glare at his opponent. “Do you really wish to die, little girl?”
“I think you’ll leave her alone.”
Glancing up at the source of the voice, Metallo cursed to see Superman come floating down from the sky. “Well, if it isn’t the flying wonder. I don’t have time to deal with you right now, so I’ll just be saying goodbye.” Suddenly the two eyebeams lanced out to strike the Man of Steel in the chest. To Ranma’s surprise, the flying man stopped flying as he hit the ground hard. Using the distraction as a cover, Metallo slipped away along with the money.
Ranma cursed heavily in Japanese as Superman picked himself up. Seeing what looked like an oddly familiar young girl in hysterics, he tried to comfort her. “It’s okay, little miss, the bad man’s gone.” Superman was startled to see the look of intense anger in the young girl’s face as she glared at him.
“Why you interfere?”
“I was trying to protect you-“
“Bad interfere in man-man fight,” the redhead growled.
Superman was confused at the girl’s reaction. His confusion ended when one of the cops yelled out to grab her since she was part of the tournament. Superman reached for the redhead. “Come with me, miss. The police-“
“No,” Ranma said simply. Faster than Superman was prepared for, the girl grabbed his outstretched hand and, with a skilled twist, threw him across the alley and into a wall. As he staggered onto his feat, she leapt up and, using his head for a springboard, bounded halfway up a nearby building. He was shocked at her mobility, especially when she made it to the roof on the next jump.
Starting her rooftop run, Ranma glanced behind her and cursed as she saw the blue and red form of her pursuer flying behind her. She tried to lose him several times, but he seemed to be able to follow her no matter what she hid behind. Growling about breaking the seals yet again, Ranma formed a plan.
Superman was increasingly surprised by the inhuman agility and speed of the girl as he used his X-Ray vision to follow her wherever she went. He felt relieved when she finally stopped in the middle of one roof and seemed to be waiting for him. “I’m glad you finally decided to give up.” He was not prepared for the grin on the girl’s face.
“I never give up.”
Suddenly the girl seemed to vanish. The Man of Steel spun around when he heard her yell something in Japanese. Superman scanned everywhere with his x-ray vision, but he could find nothing. She was simply gone. After a moment he sighed and gave up. It was then that he noticed that he felt lighter and more ventilated. A horrible realization hit him as he remembered what happened the last time he saw the redhead yelling in Japanese. Looking down he saw his heart-covered underwear. Again. “That’s it, I’m wearing regular underwear from now on.”
A fair
distance away a grumbling Ranma stepped out of the shadows and dropped her
invisibility technique. She really was not fond of using the