PrincessFelicie

It feels like it's been a *year* since I last published a chapter. But nope! "Only" five months!
Jeez. Really sorry about how long it took. On top of that, this isn't even the end of the arc as I had hoped. The chapter was just starting to get too long, and I didn't wanna make y'all wait even more, so I decided to cut it there and split it in half.
I am feeling massive anxiety that this chapter isn't up to my standards. Not that y'all won't like it, I know y'all will, but, idk, that I'll discover a bit of dialogue somewhere isn't up to par, or not perfectly in character, or awkwardly paced, or whatever else -- argh, damn you former gifted kid inflated standards.
Anyways. I dearly hope you will enjoy reading.

The strong smell of noodles, vegetables and seafood registered little on Ryoga’s brain. In front of him, a pair of triangle shaped ears twitched— at least, that was all he managed to focus on. Looking down at their owner with a complicated feeling of kinship, he stared at the blue haired Chinese girl in waitress attire. “Shampoo?”

“Miao?” Her ears flattened on top of her head, making up for the lack of an expression on her face. “Shampoo means, yes, that is me. Shampoo came to Japan again,” she replied. “…And apologises for 111,” she tacked on almost as an afterthought.

Ryoga didn’t pay it any mind, his attention on her appearance. “Did… Jusenkyo? Do this to you?” he said, pointing in turn at her ears, the purple colorations covering her hands, and her tail.

She threw him her usual glacial glance, but the way her cat features shifted in uncomfortable disregard made her scary expression much more readable. The answer was obvious, but she didn’t want to spell it out.

“Granddaughter?” a shrill voice shouted from the kitchen. “Is someone here? Remember to take their order!”

“Is pig boy, grandmama!” Shampoo shouted back. She turned back to him, and going by the turn of her ear, studied him for a few moments. “You… are good at finding Ranko, yes?”

“Aaah, erm…” Ryoga shook his hands. “Please don’t trust my sense of direction. We would both get lost very fast. Also his name’s Ranma.”

“Was not question. Pig boy good at finding Ranko, Shampoo remembers. When we fought, you went right to her.” Had he? “Pig boy!” He grimaced. “You...” She suddenly stopped. She gave him another cold stare, but any intimidating effect it had was lost as her ears perked up and her tail wiggled. She stood right to his face and peered into his eyes. Apparently nonplussed by what she found, she resumed her sentence. “Pig girl, you help Shampoo, yes?”

For some reason, Ryoga suddenly found it hard to say no, and his grumbling stomach was quickly disregarded. “I’ll bring you to him in no time flat!” he boasted with sudden confidence he didn’t know he had in him. Unfortunately, his smug grin disappeared as quickly as it came as he realized a massive problem with this plan, his eyes turning once more to Shampoo’s ears. “Although…”

“Ya know we could just ditch this whole thing, right? We don’t havta go to Tate’s.” Ranma stretched his limbs, holding his hands together. “If ya just wanted an excuse to see me in my gal form, ya could’ve just asked,” he added with a snicker, sticking out his chest for emphasis.

Akane’s annoyed huff was genuine, yet still unconvincing. “I don’t trust Tatewaki not to escalate if we don’t comply. I don’t want a repeat of the boy horde situation… But, for the record, I only said it was about Ranko to save your ‘manly image’,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

“Hmm?” the voice in his head muttered, as if woken up to attention. Ranma pushed her back down. “What, expectin’ a thank ya?”

Akane sighed, turning her head away and muttering to herself. “You’re not the one that gives them, I suppose.”

She didn’t like to see Akane look hurt like this, and took over. She brought her hands close to her chest. “I’m sorry… I do appreciate you looking out for me, Akane.” With an overbearing feeling of anger, she felt her control slip once more. He was left to pick up the pieces, grumbling and blushing as Akane smiled warmly in his direction. “Stay. Put.” With an order barked at the other one, he got back on track. “Why’d ya even tell him about my phobia anyways, if ya trust him this little?”

Akane took on a pensive look, as if she herself was unsure and had to think about it. “He’s not… mean or anything. For all of his bombastics, he’s still one of the few people that understands the best… in his own very wrong way.”

“Very, very wrong,” Ranma repeated in agreement.

“I think we’re almost here. It should be right around the—” The two teens slowed in their steps as they rounded the corner, before stopping entirely, shellshocked. Ranma’s jaw dropped.

This wasn’t a house.

This was a mansion. A castle, even. Three stories tall of the most traditionally Japanese building one could hope to visit in their lifetime, long tiled roofs extending beyond what could be taken in at once, steep stone walls even Ranma would struggle to comfortably climb up on.

How loaded were the Kunos!?

Many of Tatewaki’s eccentricities suddenly made a lot more sense to Akane. The man in question literally lived like a samurai. They walked to the front gate in silence.

“Hey there! Sapphic ones!” came Tatewaki’s voice from nearby. “Up top! Above you!” Akane raised her head just in time to catch Tatewaki’s head poke out from a ladder behind the wall, before it wobbled and fell backward, bringing the tension down along with him.

Ranma flinched. “Are you oka—” he began to say, before interrupting himself with a grunt. Akane wished he’d let his Ranko side express itself already.

A smaller door carved into the intricate wooden gate opened, revealing the Kuno brother who looked barely worse for wear. “My esteemed guests Tendo Akane and Saotome Ranko, may I welcome you to my humble abode?”

Akane wasn’t sure if Tatewaki was being needlessly polite, had never stepped inside a house besides his own, or if he genuinely did not understand the meaning of humble.

Ranma stepped through the door without saying a word, his hands swaying from his pockets to his back a couple times. Akane followed behind, feeling concerned for his mental state.

“Hmm, yes, I can see that this whole feline affair is eating at her,” Tatewaki whispered to Akane as she passed by, his eyes sharply on Ranma. She gave him one point for noticing, even if he didn’t attribute it to the right cause. He closed the door and straightened himself, then moved back in front of Ranma and directed them through the main entrance. “Now, maidens in love, worry not, for I have prepared the utmost perfect solution to handle this ailurophobic issue! First off, we must get the lady comfortable. To the onsen!”

“An onsen?” Ranko muttered, daydreaming. “Oh, I haven’t been to one since…” They blinked twice. “Wait, no!”

In a couple great strides, Tatewaki was already halfway through the courtyard and heading towards a modern addition to the left wing of the estate. Akane and Ranma scrambled to stop him.

Ryoga gulped down the rest of his broth, placing his bowl back down as he exhaled, belly well filled. Shampoo was still upstairs searching, and in the meantime, the owner of the shop kept him company.

Cologne was a wrinkly old woman worn down by age to no more than two feet tall. It was incredibly extreme, sure, but it was hard to argue with the sight in front of him. Her full gray hair reached about the same height as her own body, on the front of her purple robe was a black Chinese Hanzi Ryoga didn’t know, and around her neck a pendant of a mirror gently rested. Last but not least, a long cane twice her size rested against her stool.

“I am sure you must have many questions. So do I. My granddaughter didn’t tell me much about you, young one. She did mention you, but not much beyond that. She was pretty single-minded in talking my ears off about her beloved, after all.” That about tracked with what he knew of Shampoo. “She is not a bad girl, I hope you understand that?” Cologne asked, her voice slow and calm.

Ryoga crossed his arms in thought. It was a bit hard to agree, after what she’d done to him. And yet, his mind turned back to the nickname she had used earlier, and it was like everything was alright for a brief moment. ...Wait, what was it even? All he remembered was it feeling good for some reason. “It’s all water under the bridge,” he muttered, his defiance pacified.

“I am pleased to hear that,” Cologne said. “Shampoo must be happy to have such a forgiving friend as you.”

Friend was maybe not the most appropriate word, but Ryoga didn’t want to shatter the old woman’s well-meaning misunderstanding. Cologne stood silent, and he took the hint that it was his turn to ask a question. And as she had correctly guessed, he had many. Some about Jusenkyo, some about Shampoo. But somehow, the one that gnawed at his mind the most… ”Is… everyone in your tribe like her?”

The old lady tilted her head.

Ryoga felt his face warming up, blood rushing to it. “Are all Amazons… lesbians, like Shampoo?” Hearing the question aloud, he found himself greatly confused as to why this was his first concern, or even on his list at all. He remembered asking Ranma that same question, and somehow it hadn’t left his mind since…

After a pregnant pause, Cologne launched into a hearty cackle. Then she grabbed her cane, and smacked it on top of his head. It hurt! She had a surprising amount of hidden strength. “Of course not! We are but a simple village of warriors, our gender and sexualities have nothing to do with it. We might be called the Amazon village, but men are present as well. There is a little skew, admittedly.”

Ryoga rubbed his head where the cane hit him. “I’m sorry…”

Cologne settled back down, leering at him and grinning. “You’ve got a lot yet to figure out before I can say more.”

Ryoga stopped moving. “Huh?”

“If there is one thing my granddaughter is good at, it’s reading people. She trusts you, and so I trust you in turn.” She placed the tip of her cane on Ryoga’s heart. “She might struggle with emotions…” She lifted it to point at his brain. “…but people she can read like an open book. She might end up teaching you a thing or two about yourself, if you let her.” She set her cane down once more. “Now, if I understand correctly, you are a close friend of my soon-to-be daughter-in-law?”

Ryoga straightened up and slammed his hands on the table. “Ranma’s a guy!” With another whack to the head, Ryoga’s bump was no longer feeling lonely. “Ow! I’m serious!” He continued, shielding his head from a third hit. “I’ve known him for forever, he’s always been firm about that!”

Cologne sighed. “Bring two chickens together and they won’t know which egg is whose.”

A pair of feet pitter-patted down the stairs. Now equipped with a lovely rouge newsie cap and with her tail tucked out of view, she looked almost like a normal human. “Shampoo is ready!”

“Couldn’t you have used boiling water to turn back?” Ryoga asked. “That’s what I do.”

“Pig girl… hot water burn.” She struggled to articulate her thought. ”Not everybody can.”

Cologne nodded, then turned to Ryoga to translate. “You’re not well aware of your own resilience, are you?”

“Not sure what you mean by that,” he replied, a bit confused. If anything, he considered his new bumps a proof otherwise.

Tatewaki continued to direct Akane and Ranma through the corridors of his castle. At some point they had moved up a floor, and Akane wondered why everything looked so spotless. “This place is pretty clean… Do you and your sister do the cleaning yourselves?” she asked.

“Hah hah hah hah hah hah!” Tatewaki laughed. “Of course not, we have… servant,” he said, like he had skipped an article, and also had left his sentence hanging.

“…Hm mmh,” Ranma nodded, waiting for the rest to come. It didn’t.

Tatewaki stopped in his tracks and turned to face them. He brought his hand to his mouth, and then shouted. “SASUKE!!”

After a moment, Akane looked around. Nobody was coming.

“Ah, ever loyal Sarugakure Sasuke! The pride jewel of the Kuno family’s ninjas.” Tatewaki crossed his arms in triumph.

“Is someone there…?” Ranma said.

“Sasuke here is the deadliest, most silent, and most effective of our ninjas. He also does the upkeep around here, gardening, laundry, repairs, mopping, cooking, grocery shopping, as well as keeping us company whenever the need arises. Sasuke, meet my friends, martial master Tendo Akane, and her partner, graceful Saotome Ranko.”

Akane felt flattered, even if being introduced to what seemed to be a gust of wind.

“Imma martial artist too!” Ranma pouted. “I’m better than her, even.”

“Oh yeah? Wanna prove that once we’re back home?” Akane snapped back.

Ranma mumbled something to himself about not fighting girls. 

Akane rolled her eyes.

“Brother dearest?” Kodachi’s voice rang from a few rooms away. “Could you tell Sasuke to come back? We were in the middle of a pedicure…”

It was about tea time at the Tendos. The afternoon really had gone by in the blink of an eye, at least so it felt to Kasumi. She wondered why Ranma-chan and Akane-chan weren’t back yet, but she couldn’t imagine they were up to anything special. Maybe they were having a much needed talk between themselves, or simply enjoying the afternoon breeze. Hopefully Shampoo-chan hadn’t arrived yet, Kasumi’s sweets weren’t ready.

She brought Ranma’s father a cup of tea, placing it by his side. 

He grunted in acknowledgement and picked it up. He was staring out into the pond garden, looking at a neighborhood stray cat which had made its way inside.

Kasumi sat behind him, thinking. She would have to find a way to keep them out, if Ranma-chan was terrified of them. Unless, of course… “Saotome-sama, sir?” She asked. “Is there no way to help Ranma-chan with he—his fear of cats?”

Genma stared at the steam coming out of his cup for a moment. He brought it to his lips, blew on the hot liquid and slowly took a sip, careful not to burn his tongue. “I’m afraid I have already tried, Kasumi. Once it was clear the experience had been traumatic and wasn’t to be repeated again, I searched for a way to cure my boy of his phobia. And so… I worked at a cat shelter for eight weeks, bringing him along with me.”

Kasumi gasped. “But aren’t most of them…”

Genma hung his head low. “I didn’t know it at the time, but yes. Kill shelters. The animals were terribly unhappy, noisy, and even had they not been, reintroducing Ranma to cats through an environment where he would be confronted with sick, dirty, feral ones, ended up only reinforcing his fear.” He gritted his teeth, his hand clenching on the cup. “And that experience… brought about a new level to this tragedy!” The cup shattered in his hand, dousing his fingers in tea. He stared at the liquid trickling down, before raising himself up. “And if I am to believe my paternal instincts… Call your father’s office and tell him to come home immediately.”

After some more walking (well, it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes since they had first stepped into Tatewaki’s house), and avoiding Kuno’s other ‘fun activities’ he had planned (as much as it was impressive his castle hosted a newly built home cinema, Ranma and Akane wanted to head home as early as possible), Kuno brought them in front of a room. A plate near the handle indicated it as ‘Komosasu Kuno’s office’. Odd name. The siblings’ father, perhaps?

“We’re here!” Tatewaki spoke, reaching for the door. “Now, this shouldn’t take but a modest amount of your time. If I may enquire one last time, are you sure you do not wish to—”

“Yes, Tatewaki, we’re sure we don’t want to try your mosh pit,” Akane repeated for the third time in a row.

Ranma felt his brain squatter request the permission to talk. He wasn’t sure how that worked. It was instinctual, maybe? All that he knew was that what she was doing was conjuring the image of her raising her arm up to ask a question. He figured it was worth listening to what she had to say, at least. “What do you think Tatewaki has in store for us in there?”

“I ‘unno,” he replied with a similar silent thought. “Preparin’ for the worse.”

“You think he… could’ve filled the room with cats?” she continued.

“Or asked his ninja servant to do it…” It was plausible enough…

“How many?”

“Enough that ya couldn’t count ‘em…” he replied, his brain now in a rush to come up with the most apocalyptic scenario.

On that, she was on the same wavelength. “…A tiger too?”

“H-He’s got the money to…”

Slowly, their heart rate went up as the two of them lost themselves in a spiral, psyching each other up until the apprehension they felt turned to dread.

They started shaking. Not knowing what was behind that door was feeding into a building panic attack. They bounced their leg, tapped their foot, held their arms tight.

What. If there were. Cats in there.

Tatewaki slid the door open.

On the other side, amidst lavish American and tropical decorations, sat an old greying man on a recliner chair. Turned ninety degrees from him was a couch. The man wore a brown suit and a royal purple tie. He kept a wild beard out of which a pipe poked out, and on his nose rested a pair of small round glasses. “Ah,” he exclaimed, smiling kindly. “The patient, I presume?”

“Ah be bwuh,” the Rans stammered, their brain thrown for a loop.

“Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the couch. Akane led them to it; they only now realised she was holding their hand with a somewhat relieved expression on her face. “I am Dr. Witziges Wortspiel; I specialize in psychology at the university of Munich.” He flipped through a dossier he held in his hands, then adjusted his glasses. “I gather you are Ranko Saotome, and…?”

“Akane Tendo. Pleased to meet you professor.” She bowed her head. Ranma—ko—ma—ko—… They were surprised at how quickly she had adapted.

“A friend, I presume? Miss Ranko, do you require emotional support, or would you rather have a private session?”

“What is happening noooow,” they said, voice quavering. “I—We—What?”

The psychologist smiled again, trying to put them at ease. “Oh, please, take your time, I can see this was dropped on you a bit suddenly.”

They breathed in, breathed out, breathed in… breathed out. By the time Ranma felt his mind back at ease, he was able to recall Dr. Tofu’s recommendation. This was what they had told him to do, right? Seek out a therapist? In the most unlikely of ways, a therapist had found him instead.

“Now I must admit, it is pretty rare of me to accept being flown internationally on a lecture day for a last minute appointment, but…” He extended his palm upwards. Tatewaki whistled, and seemingly manifested out of thin air, a packload of cash appeared in the doctor’s hand, which he promptly shoved into his pocket. “All the more reason to make sure this session is a fruitful one, then!”

With that, Tatewaki took his leave.

On the one hand, Akane couldn’t believe her good fortune. This was exactly what Ranma desperately needed! How did Tatewaki know? Had he had a flash of lucidity, or was he smarter than he let on?

On the other, she had the distinct intuition that something was about to go terribly wrong.

“You’re not gonna shove me in a pack a’ wild cats, are ya?” Ranma squinted in distrust.

Dr. Wortspiel chuckled. “Oh no, I wouldn’t dare. I first would need to determine whether exposure therapy would be the right path to healing, and I would start with descriptions and pictures. No need to bring in an animal when it’s much too early. In fact, if you’ll allow me…” Slowly, the man took his time to get up from his chair. Clearly, he had reached the age where joints already started to ache. Once up, he approached the study desk in the middle of the room, dropped his suitcase on top of it, and pressed the two locks open. “I did bring with me a picture album. Kittens frolicking, falling over, being put in cute costumes… At the very least, I thought it a good idea for you to have this, just in case we never see each other again.” Lifting the top of the briefcase, he pulled out the book in question. “But with such a generous benefactor, what would be the odds of that?” He displaced his pipe to the side of his mouth and smiled toothily, standing in front of a window.

…In which a suspicious shadow was quickly closing in.

One second later, it was chaos. A new hole adorned the room where the window once was, Ryoga was tucked on the ground writhing in fear, Shampoo’s collision with the desk had turned it to rubble, and the poor Dr. Wortspiel was knocked out for good under the sad remains of a smashed up bike.

“Yep, that’s about what I expected,” Akane muttered, shoving her face inside her palm.

“There’s no way they’re gonna be in a castle,” Ryoga whispered to himself. “Why did she trust me? Why did I trust me? There’s no way they are—“ He made eye contact with Akane and jumped back. “AAAAAAH! How are you two here!!?”

“It’s a long story,” Akane replied.

It took Shampoo a bit longer to get back to her feet. When she finally spotted Akane and Ranma, she hopped around the mess, and stopped right in front of them. Then she stiffened up, held her hands in front of her, took a deep breath… and froze, before exhaling slowly. “…Shampoo forgot script.”

Ranma jumped out of his seat, taking cover behind the couch. He took a shaky, defensive stance.  “Stay away from me! I ain’t forgivin’ ya for the stunt ya pulled!”

Something under Shampoo’s hat bounced up. “Oh!” She cleared her throat. “I am deeply, and honestly, sorry for what I did. I didn’t intend to cause anybody harm. I promise to do better in the future. I will no longer aim to remove Ranma.”

Ranma relaxed his stance, staring at her. That had been genuine, right? It was a bit hard to tell with her sometimes. And it’s not like it came anywhere near to making up for the months she had spent chasing after his life. And he’d just said he wouldn’t forgive her, dammit!

…And yet, at the back of his brain, ever the goody-two-shoes… The other one had bought it, hook, line, and sinker. “Awww. She’s really trying! I think we should forgive her.”

“Are you outta your mind??”

“…I just don’t like holding grudges, okay…?” She sounded hurt. “It makes me feel bad…”

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I ain’t forgivin’ her, I said!” he repeated aloud. When he reopened his eyes, Shampoo was right up in his face, giving him big adorable eyes. He stumbled back against the wall. The other one started transmitting him the same kind of energy.

Akane was staring at him, her eyebrow slowly rising, waiting to see how the situation developed.

He looked back at Shampoo. She looked so honest, so vulnerable…

Akane crossed her arms, a disapproving look on her face.

“Fine! Apology accepted!” he conceded, under the combined efforts of Shampoo and the squatter in his brain.

Akane huffed. “Still not even able to pretend you don’t want her attention, huh…” Wanting to disinterest herself from Ranma, she got out of her seat and went to help Ryoga get up.

Ranma wanted to retort something about how he’d gotten teamed up on, but he would’ve just sounded crazy. He couldn’t exactly admit the presence of a second person in his head! “Thanks a lot, you!” he shot at her, annoyed.

She didn’t pick up on his tone. “You’re welcome! It’s much better when we’re all friends.”

Shampoo gave Ranma another of her crushing neck hugs, and started rubbing her face against his.

And that’s when he started hearing, as well as feeling, an ominously familiar rumble, that made his hair stand on end.

With a grimace, Ryoga braced himself. “Oh no.”

“What’s that… purring?” Akane asked, before her eyes went wide, connecting the dots.

It didn’t take long before the affectionate rubbing caused Shampoo’s hat to come off. Two very feline ears celebrated their freedom, and Ranma shrieked, louder than Akane had ever heard from him.

PrincessFelicie

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