A Ranma ½ / Sailor Moon crossover story
Disclaimer: Ranma ½ and its characters and settings belong to Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Kitty, and Viz Video. Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon belongs to Takeuchi Naoko, Koudansha, TV Asahi, and Toei Douga, and DIC.
Stalking through the night, deftly liberating mishandled and abused panties, Happosai paused, his super-sensitive hearing registering the wailing of an unhappy child. Normally the aged— well, very aged— prunish martial arts master would have passed the occurrence off as a young parent shirking on their responsibility, one of the few things that could actually upset him after centuries of debauchery, but along with the piercing cry came an unmistakable vibration. It was chi, pure, innocent, and raw, the kind of energy given off by the future powerhouses. Happosai himself once, in times long forgotten, gave off such an energy, or so his grandfather had told him. So too had Cologne, his lost love. Not including himself and the beautiful Amazon, only three others in his three hundred and sixteen years of life, to his knowledge, had ever possessed the inborn quality such as he now witnessed.
The gears in Happosai's perverted and aging, yet still brilliant mind began to creakily turn. Neither Genma nor Soun were really worthy of the title of Heir to the Anything Goes School (1). The only reason he'd selected the men in the first place was on the off chance that they would produce a suitable child to carry on the legacy, but Genma's wife was barely pregnant and Soun's two brats, while already demonstrating some potential, weren't suited for the task either. Hmm, the child was technically being neglected, and if looked at from a certain perspective, Happosai himself was about the best protection any one person could have in life. Well, why not? He needed an heir, so he'd just make one on his own. Screw Genma and Soun, they were incompetent idiots anyway.
Decision made, Happosai leapt a fence and crept through the open window of the crying child's room. It was a girl, he noticed when within visual and less passive chi sensory range. Sigh. He could still work with a girl if he had to. On the other hand, having a girl that could grow up to be a babe and a loyal student would be kinda nice. He could even cop himself a feel without threat of severe violence. Happosai scooped up the squirming bundle, tucking his pitifully empty panty bag into his gi. Almost instantly, the girl quieted, leaning on the diminutive man's shoulder and sucking her thumb happily.
Souichi Tomoe finally finished giving his wife her medication. A major part of the drug regimen the dying woman currently used was mainly to fight off debilitating pain in her joints and had to be injected. He wished he could have gotten to his daughter earlier; but Keiko was in such pain, he couldn't bear to leave her until she was in a peaceful, drug-induced slumber.
By the time the scientist had finished and covered half the distance to little Hotaru's room, the crying had ceased and quiet once again filled the house. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, the mentally and physically exhausted man turned around and headed for the couch where he slept in order not to disturb the little sleep his wife could get.
Two weeks later, Happosai found his wayward students. They were just coming off of a truly phenomenal binge, and the effects of so much alcohol had turned the pair into complete wrecks, barely able to talk and extremely photosensitive. Ah, the good old days. Happosai remembered when he could do that, but now his body, tiny as it was, could ingest enough booze to kill an elephant and only just manage a pleasant drunk. Hotaru— he'd decided to keep the name embroidered on the baby blanket— rested calmly in the sling across his back. Such a wonderful child. As long as she got lots of attention, she never made so much as a peep.
Stockily-muscled Genma and wiry-but-quick Soun were no match for their master on a good day. On a day such as this, they couldn't have fought off a half dozen ants, so they didn't even offer any resistance as Happosai moved around them, tapping several shiatsu points across their bodies. This would sober them up for a little more than five minutes, but the headache that came afterwards would last closer to five days and be mind-numbing in intensity. Happosai didn't care; he only needed the five minutes.
"Up, up, you sorry excuses for men. Why, in my day, the old women would have laughed you out of the village if that little bit of saki got you so drunk. You should be ashamed of yourselves!" The ancient master only gave the young men a cursory pounding, a sort of going away present. After today, he didn't intend to ever see them again.
"Yes, master," Genma groveled, to be echoed by Soun. He had to say one good thing for the boys, they sure could pull off a good worshipping, not that such a skill did much good outside of the priesthood.
"Now, since neither one of you has proven to me that you have what it takes to pass on the traditions of Anything Goes when I pass on, I have decided to take drastic measures. As of this day, I wash my hands of you. You are no longer of my school and may no longer practice its secrets. I have found an heir, and to show you just how pathetic you really are, my heir is a girl. Bwahahaha! Your places have been taken by a girl! A little baby girl! Bwahahahahaha!" Still cackling, Happosai leapt through the window of the seedy motel Genma and Soun were renting, smacking both of them on the way out.
Genma trembled in anger, a deep blue battle aura coating his thoroughly muscled form. He raised a clenched fist into the air and shouted, "Damn you, old man, damn you to an eternity in a hell without women!!!"
Soun looked at his friend in confusion. "Genma, tell me if I'm wrong, but isn't this what we've wanted for the last decade or so? I mean, really, the master hasn't actually taught us any of his 'secrets' and all we've gotten out of him so far has been almost straight kempo."
Genma, too, looked confused, then a sheepish grin spread across his homely face. "You’re right, old friend. I don't know what came over me. We're free, free at last! We must celebrate this wondrous occasion!!!" Genma pulled a half full bottle of saki from liquor-space and was about to take a pull of the already warm rice wine when the most amazing thing happened. Out of nowhere, literally, a band of sadistic dwarfs began to beat the inside of his skull with hammers. Genma dropped the bottle convulsively and clutched the sides of his head in agony.
Soun was about to run over to his friend to see what was the matter when he, too, experienced the wonder of hammer-wielding hell-dwarfs.
"But Genma, is a martial artist very manly if he doesn't belong to a school?" Nodoka asked wearily. Her pregnancy was nearing its end and little Ranma appeared eager to follow in his father’s footsteps as a martial artist, though she hoped her first born would be a bit more handsome than her own blunt-featured but lovable husband.
Genma waved the possibility aside. Nodoka hadn't mentioned hauling out the old Masaki sword and he didn't want to give her reason to. "Nodoka, dearest, don't worry. I'll simply combine my own schools, the Yamasenken and the Umisenken, into a new school of martial arts. Isn't that great? Our Ranma will be the heir to a completely new style of combat!" When Genma had emerged from the hellish Dwarf jamboree, he’d had something of a revelation. He hadn't planned on using the Yamasenken or Umisenken, since they were so dangerous. If Happosai had continued to instruct him, Genma wouldn't have needed his new techniques; at least he wouldn't if the old master's boasts proved true. Now, however, he was a masterless warrior, a ronin. Without Happosai's 'training', he would have time to properly unite and master the new Toorima Ryu (2).
Nodoka's eyes gleamed with pride. Genma was such a manly man! How many other men invented their own martial art? She wasn't sure, but the young woman knew that the number wasn't very high. She squealed in excitement, jumping up to hug her husband. Then, firmly glomped onto the man, her eyes widened and she let out a squeal for a different reason. It was time; Ranma was coming at last!
Soun cradled little Nabiki in his arms, rocking her gently as he and his wife Sakura (3) talked about the future of their family and the dojo they had inherited just months earlier.
Sakura smiled, absently rubbing her bulging abdomen. A few more months and their little family would be getting a new member, hopefully a boy this time. "Honestly, I never cared much for your old master." Big understatement. Sakura could feel when the old pervert was within a block of her and actively sought him out, a horde of angry women at her back, every chance she got. Stupid little troll, she'd get him for peeping on her in the shower.
Soun grinned lopsidedly. "An opinion shared by many, my love, myself included. With the master gone, I can now seek out a new instructor to finish my education in kempo. In a few more years, I'll be able to get a teacher's license and begin working as a sensei at the dojo." Soun would still maintain his friendship with Genma, but he just didn't have the drive for the martial arts that his friend did. And now, with the man preparing to create an entirely new martial art, Soun knew he didn't need to be burdened with the job of teaching his friend while he himself learned.
Sixteen years passed without incident. Genma mastered his new school and took his son, Ranma, on a training journey to teach the boy his family style and to make him a man amongst men. Soun, happy with his three daughters and wife, began teaching kempo at the Tendo family dojo. When his wife died of cancer four years after the birth of their last child, a girl by the name of Akane, he slipped into a deep depression, but was able to press on and continue providing for his family (4).
Hotaru Lee (5) suffered none of the weakness or frailty that would have plagued her if raised in the normal manner. Despite Happosai's efforts, the girl, a beautiful and shapely sixteen year old, would not let him get within three feet of her unless they were fighting. Unfortunately for the old man, Hotaru, while still not skilled enough to defeat him in straight combat, is more than capable of dodging or otherwise evading any attempts at groping.
And lastly, Setsuna Meiou, a.k.a. Sailor Pluto, the Guardian of the Time Gate, spent a good portion of those sixteen years looking for Sailor Saturn, who she knows is alive and living on Earth, but could not find no matter how much power she used (6).
Soun read the postcard with joy in his heart and tears in his eyes. He hadn't seen his oldest and dearest friend in over a decade, ever since he'd begun the journey to teach Ranma the Toorima Ryu. Eagerly, Soun drew the other postcard from the stack of mail. Maybe this one was good, too. On the front of the card, in a kind of cosmic joke unknown to Soun, was a picture of the planet Saturn.
Joy left his heart to be replaced by dread, fear, anxiety, and a few other negative emotions. The tears dried up almost instantaneously. He had to prepare. The girls would need protection. Soun wouldn't be able to get them firearms in Japan, but cattle prods shouldn't be too much trouble.
Ranma was a teenager of average height, possessing blue-gray eyes within a mischievously handsome face, and his tight black pigtail flew wildly behind him as he glided along the side of the high-rise building. The young man wasn't flying, that wasn't something he ever thought could be accomplished by non-winged or non-draconian beings, but with one hand and both feet glowing blue as he created a chi-enforced vacuum, he defied gravity well enough to chase after his fleeing father who was only a floor or two ahead.
"Get back here, old man!" Ranma shouted, using his free hand to fling a loose vacuum blade that lazily arched around the building's cylindrical exterior. The attack was a much blunter version of the true vacuum blade, the Toorima Ryu's main long-range technique.
A few moments passed before Ranma heard the yelp that signaled his father had been hit. "Bull’s-eye," he whispered, allowing his speed to decrease and cutting most of the power to the vacuum that held him in place. As a result, he began to slide downward, angling towards his falling father with steadily increasing speed.
Within seconds he caught up to the older man. Genma, his gi slightly torn, was skidding along the surface of the building, much like Ranma, but with much less control. Ranma sighed. He'd have to save his father or they'd be stuck in Tokyo for weeks while the old bastard healed.
The kick and burst of force shattered the thick pane of glass he'd been on and propelled Ranma fast enough that he would overtake his father and be able to intercept him before he impacted the sidewalk.
It was humiliating to be saved by his son, to say the least. Genma was as ugly as ever, and getting on in the years, but most of his muscle had stayed that way, only a small portion of it going to fat over the years of daily gorging on whatever food he could get his hands on. Genma closed his eyes and tried to guess how long they would continue to fall before reaching the Earth once again.
Four seconds later, Ranma, with Genma slung haphazardly over his shoulder, slammed into the concrete sidewalk. Ranma's grunted at the effort, though his legs barely buckled from the force. The sidewalk wasn't nearly so lucky. It exploded into a cloud of shrapnel and dust, leaving a sizable crater behind.
Ranma threw Genma into the rubble and said, "If this is another fiancée, father, I'm gonna turn mom loose on your ass."
Genma shuddered. Not really a fate worse than death, Nodoka could be at least as bad, though, if she ever decided to really use the Saotome blade. Ever since she'd given her old one back to her grandfather to be passed on to her nephew, she took every available opportunity to show off the Saotome blade. Thankfully the women didn't actually know how to use it. That would be bad.
"No, boy. I told you: that last girl was the final engagement." Jeez, it's not like he'd engaged the boy more than five times. Once Nodoka had caught on to that one, she hadn't sheathed the sword for two weeks.
"I just want to introduce you to a friend of mine. We once studied under the same evil master. When we parted ways, he settled down to teach and raise his family while I continued to develop our school to pass on to you."
Ranma snorted. He knew his father meant well, but he could sound so righteous and sage sometimes that Ranma thought he would gag. Evil master, eh? "Would that evil master be Happosai?" he asked.
Genma's eyes widened and he looked at Ranma in terror. "Don’t say that name lest you invoke his presence!" he shouted. His hands trembling, Genma waved them over his head once and released a small amount of chi into the air. Sounds of traffic and conversation immediately faded away and the louder noises that they could hear were distorted beyond recognition. "Ranma, don't ever say his name. That man is as close to a demon as any human can be. If he were to get his hands on our secret techniques, he would be unstoppable, a plague on the world." On the world's panties, anyway.
Ranma couldn't help but take the old man seriously. He sounded truly scared and apprehensive, and to use one of their school's most secret techniques in such a public place… He nodded in understanding and let the matter drop.
Hotaru's staff struck out, seemingly unguided, and smashed into Happosai's face just as he began an enthusiastic leap for her butt. With a pleasant smile on her face, the beautiful girl channeled a large surge of chi through the wood of the staff and thoroughly charred Happosai's head, turning his tiny little waxed mustache into a smoking ruin.
"Grandfather, I've told you to stop that!" Hotaru chided, not really angry at her grandfather's antics. She was almost sure that the old man really couldn't control himself, but that didn't stop her from painfully reminding him that she was off limits, along with any other woman if she was around.
His blackened face still smoking, Happosai walked beside his adopted granddaughter and heir to his school, his head held low and his feet dragging across the cement dejectedly. Hotaru had grown into such a fine example of womanhood. It just wasn't fair that he couldn't fondle her occasionally. He looked up and his mood brightened visibly. The sign for the Tendo Kempo dojo was up ahead. Good, very good. Now he could show off what a real heir was about. Soun also had at least two daughters whom couldn't possibly be as well-trained as Hotaru.
"Something feels… off, somehow," Genma commented uncomfortably as they neared the gate to his old friend's house and dojo.
Ranma stopped, a look a concentration passing over his face for a heart beat, then nodded. It still irked him that his father was more sensitive to danger than him, but he was young and had plenty of time to sharpen his senses. "Do you think it's the ninja zombies again?" The ninja zombies were yet another incident in a long line of catastrophes caused at least in part by Genma's efforts to train his son in the ways of the Toorima Ryu.
Genma shook his head. How was he supposed to know that the pendant wouldn't just increase Ranma's skill, but would cause him to better himself by randomly fighting off a horde of zombies trained in ninjitsu? Stupid Amazon artifacts. "This feels more malevolent. Be ready, son; Soun and his family may be in danger."
Ranma nodded again and began to focus and fold chi as much as he could without manifesting any visible signs. He felt his father do the same and followed the man over the wall.
"Grandfather, you pervert!" a cute girl about Ranma's age shouted, smashing a smoldering troll-like thing into a medium-sized koi pond with a staff that glowed yellow with chi energy. A small cloud of steam rose from the troll's landing in the pond. Beside him, Ranma felt his father fully unleash his battle aura, the telltale bending of space also coming into play. He was still visible, but a blink of the eye and the older man could vanish.
Ranma didn't power up any further than he already was. The girl seemed to have things well enough in hand. Unnoticed, by anyone, Ranma and Genma watched as another attractive girl— this one wearing a housedress and maybe a few years older than Ranma— stepped out of the house and fished the troll out of the pond with her broom.
"Grandfather Happosai, that really wasn't very nice. You should probably go apologize to Nabiki for stealing her underwear," the girl said sweetly, smiling pleasantly all the while, though her nose did wrinkle cutely at the smell of burning human flesh.
Ranma assumed the girl waving the cattle prod with sparks shooting out of the end was Nabiki… Wait a minute; did she say Happosai? Yes, she did. Ranma looked at the shriveled little troll, his senses fully open. Wow, it had a seriously focused battle aura and its chi was as condensed as any Ranma had ever seen. That girl shouldn't have been able to take him out so easily. She'd called him grandfather, though. Maybe he'd let her hit him. Ranma had done that on more than one occasion when he'd fought female martial artists over the years.
Now Ranma started laughing. He couldn't believe his father had such a deeply ingrained fear of the ancient man, even if he did have the power to back it up. Happosai just didn't have the look necessary to inspire fear. Oh, well, his father was mostly an idiot and a coward, so he couldn't expect much out of him.
Ranma's laughter drew the attention of the staff-wielding girl, the broom-wielding girl, the cattle prod-wielding girl, and Happosai, who had finally stopped smoking. One smile from broom girl, a glare from Happosai and cattle prod, and a look of wary respect from the staff girl later, and Ranma remembered his manners. "Ah, sorry. I'm Ranma Saotome and this is my father, Genma Saotome." Ranma reached out and drew his Genma from hiding.
From the back porch charged a man wearing traditional samurai armor, and who waved a cattle prod around like a katana. He rushed Genma and the two men met, embracing each other in bone-crushing bear hugs and laughing without restraint.
Ranma tore his gaze from the reunion when he felt a powerful presence close by. He turned to face the presence, and came face to face to the cute girl with the staff. Wow, up close she looked a whole lot better. Those purple eyes were strangely exotic, too.
"Hi, I'm Hotaru. Wanna be friends?" she asked, extending her hand in greeting.
Ranma gaped at the girl for a moment, but then with a grin accepted the offered hand and said, "Sure."
To be continued.
Author's Notes: This was originally an idea by Cymage, but I somehow got trapped in it and have found myself absorbed by the story. I'm still gonna continue The World at War, and probably Till Death Do We Part, just with this thrown in. Yes, I'm an evil bastard deserving of death. I can't help it, I didn't intend to write this as anything more than an idea. Oh well, just stop foaming at the mouth and try to enjoy the story. Had some weird formatting problems with his, but I think I have them worked out. Please send C&C to me at firstname.lastname@example.org
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