Disclaimer: Ranma ½ and all its characters and situations are products of Rumiko Takahashi and Viz video. The story below is for the free amusement of anyone willing to read it. IOW don’t sue me. You’d end up winning a stick of bubble gum and a pair of old, chewed up sneakers.

~

Wham!

Mousse slowly slid down the side of the wall he’d just been plastered against. It was a common enough occurrence for him that whenever he woke up, the disorientation wouldn’t be too bad.

Scorning the blind boy’s attempts to impress his love, Shampoo tucked her bonbori back onto her person and returned the delivery box to the counter. "Stupid Mousse." She grumbled and found her grandmother in the kitchen.

"I take it son-in-law did not favor you with his undying love." Cologne commented sarcastically. After so many years of trying to help her great granddaughter woe the stubborn boy, a little sarcasm was bound to work its way into her system.

Shampoo missed it and sighed, tying the apron back around her waist. "No, Airen too too smart fall for trap."

Cologne didn’t comment that lacing the ramen with a different love potion wasn’t going to fool anyone who had been fooled into eating ramen with a different love potion before. Focusing on the restaurant was an easy way to clear the mind so she set Shampoo to waitressing and throwing the orders out as they came.

It was early afternoon now and the crowds were just beginning to build for the lunch hour. Cologne already had different pots of their more famous dishes on a slow boil to serve their customers quickly.

"Wake up, Mousse!" Shampoo yelled, kicking the boy in the head to show her displeasure. "You no customer, you work!" The Amazon demanded.

Mousse groaned as he was gently coaxed out of unconsciousness by his love’s gentle touch. "Ow, ow, ow, okay, I’m awake now Shampoo, ow, ow, ow."

Shampoo snorted in disgust and put up a few more orders for Cologne to fill. As she turned around Mousse was leaning against a nearby table, holding his head, swaying unsteadily on his feet. "What you do?!" she demanded. "Go work, Duck Boy!"

Blinking, Mousse turned to the source of his Shampoo’s voice, hoping to get in a quick hug from the affectionate beau-"Who the hell are you?!"

Shampoo blinked. Out of nowhere (not hard to believe since Mousse is master of the Hidden Weapons Art) a long, wicked looking blade was aimed at her throat pulled from Mousse’s sleeve. "Me Shampoo stupid Mousse!"

The blade retracted minutely so that it no longer made contact with Shampoo’s skin. With his other hand, Mousse reached up to the glasses on his forehead to pull them down. He was shocked to see his beautiful Shampoo at the end of his sword, glaring at him. "What the hell?"

Becoming steadily more annoyed, Shampoo watched the blind boy remove, reset and reclean his glasses three times. It was becoming fairly evident that he was having trouble coping with whatever his glasses were showing him. A sympathetic person might care, but Shampoo was certainly not feeling even a little caring when the stupid boy was holding a weapon at her.

"Aaahhh!" Lashing out, Shampoo deftly knocked the thick glasses from the boy’s hands and brought her second bonbori up to brain the boy for his insolence.

Clang!

That was not the sound of someone being brained, Shampoo realized. She looked again and found Mousse still standing in front of her, looking slightly angry, and holding a second sword in his now free hand to block her strike. "That was a stupid thing to do." He commented darkly, placing the first sword back under Shampoo’s chin. "I should kill you for just impersonating my lovely Shampoo."

Shampoo suddenly had a desire to swallow, but felt certain the slight movement of her neck would press the blade uncomfortably into her esophagus.

In a sudden flash of movement, Mousse’s blades twitched and Shampoo closed her eyes expecting to feel the death strike at any moment.

"That was certainly unexpected." Cologne commented.

Opening her eyes back up, Shampoo breathed with relief as she found her great grandmother standing over Mousse’s prone form. "What happen? Why he attack Shampoo?"

Cologne said nothing, simply studied the unconscious boy with a speculating eye. "We’ll have to find out later. Now help me move him into the storage room to keep him locked up."

Shampoo nodded and grabbed the boy around the waist and carried him into the back. Dumping him into the dark room, she sighed and locked the door. Perhaps they would be able to send him back to China with this outrage. It would certainly make life easier.

Written by Michael Fetter

A Chance Love Production

Is proud to present

Love at First Sight

"C’mon Ranma!" Akane yelled from the front door. "If we don’t hurry we’re gonna be late!"

Rather indifferent to the idea of school, Ranma simply followed Akane along the fence. He didn’t really need to go, not with his skill in the Art. He went to see his friends and beat up on Kuno that’s all. Not like he wanted to hang around with Akane or anything.

The two high schoolers rounded the last corner to bring Furinkan High into sight. It looked a little rundown with all the patch-up work and fading paint, but that was an improvement from yesterday.

Repair guys must have been working overtime, Ranma thought as he stepped on a certain kendoist’s face as he followed Akane into the main building. Behind him, Ranma could hear the ends of Kuno’s ‘dramatic’ speech falling into unconsciousness. Maybe if the guy learned to step to one side he would be able to finish those speeches, Ranma considered then decided to keep it to himself. No one wanted to hear those dumb monologues anyway.

They made it into their first class without much time to spare. The teacher seemed to not notice as he twisted through the air to land in his seat rather than walk around the other desks. Ranma placed his backpack on the ground looked up at the teacher, and on the first note of the school bell, fell asleep.

~

The bell rang again.

People began to leave their seats.

Someone hit him in the head, yelled a little, and stomped off.

Ranma decided it was safe to wake up again.

So far today hadn’t been too bad. Kuno attacked him again in the halls between classes. Happosai ran through the girls’ locker room during gym class. Ryouga somehow found his way into his English class. And twenty minutes ago, Kodachi felt a need to swing on by with another bundle of roses he knocked away without even thinking about it. All that really left for school was . . .

"Airen! Shampoo bring ramen!"

. . . a visit from the delivery girl from the Nekohaten. The wall beside his desk collapsed and admitted the cute lavender-haired girl bearing a takeout box of her restaurants famous ramen. Ranma hadn’t eaten that ramen in a long time. It certainly did smell good, but it was probably laced with something.

"Hi, Shampoo." Ranma waved from his seat as he reached over for the book bag and stood up.

Shampoo bounced over to him, displaying a warm, tantalizing bowl of the noodles. Smiling happily as he made his way down the row of seats.

"Bye, Shampoo." Ranma brushed passed the Amazon and was heading out the door. Kasumi’s bentos were always delicious, filling, and, most importantly, not drugged.

"Where husband going?" Shampoo asked, following at his heels.

"Lunch."

The bowl was back and in his face. "Shampoo bring ramen!"

Smiling weakly, Ranma brushed the girl’s hand aside and left the classroom. People scowled at him in the hallways. He’d learned long ago they didn’t like the way the Amazon would cling to him, but it wasn’t his fault. The boys hated it because Shampoo was beautiful and the girls hated it because Shampoo was beautiful and not giving them a chance to meet the pigtailed martial artist.

Ranma had a feeling he’d have a much more active social life if it weren’t for martial arts. As it was the most contact he had with people was at the end of his fist.

Shampoo was back again, tight Chinese clothes presented so to give him the best look at her body without being completely indecent. That didn’t stop her from jumping into the bath with him however. "Why husband no want Shampoo’s ramen?!" she demanded with a slight pout.

Sighing, Ranma stopped and stared at the warrior maiden. "Actually it smells great."

She smiled.

"But I’m not in the mood to look for an antidote." And he was gone. Shampoo stood there a moment before she ran off in tears. He felt bad of course, but what else was he supposed to do. Eat her food and become some sort of Amazon slave?

Dealing with a malleting was easier than anything his other fiancées offered. He had to face it sometime. Akane was his only option really. Shampoo was an Amazon, which meant he would be less than a second class citizen in her village, and he didn’t want to marry someone because of a law. Kodachi, she was just a plain loon and might drive him insane with that awful laughter. Ukyou was nice, could cook, clean, listen sometimes, but Ranma couldn’t come to see her as much more than a friend. Marrying Ukyou would be like marrying a sister or something like that.

He’d meet Akane out under the trees in the courtyard like he usually did, eat, maybe talk, fight off more lunch offers from his other fiancées, be malleted, and try to finish the school day without getting detention again.

~

Mousse woke up in the darkness of the storeroom, a throbbing headache, and some rather strange dream images in mind. He could’ve sworn he had held Shampoo at the point of his swords, but that was ridiculous. Imagine! Him! Hold a weapon to his lovely Shampoo! How absurd!

Shaking his head, Mousse blinked his eyes, which seemed sore and irritated. "Ow. That hurts. Must’ve forgot my mother’s eye drop medicine this morning."

It was entirely possible with the demanding pace Cologne made him work at. The old ghoul probably knew it would irritate his eyes to miss an application of his mother’s medicine. Snorting, he stood up. Someday the dried up, old mummy would get what was coming to her.

"I need to find my glasses." He said to himself. "Can’t see anything without them."

There was a brief flash of pain as Mousse began hopping about the room on one foot, the other held tightly in his hands. The darkness of the storeroom caused him to miss the crate left out on the floor, and stubbed his toe.

"Perfect." He muttered, the pain subsiding enough that he could continue his search for a light switch. "Man this is worse than usual. Normally I can at least see some blurry images, but this is total darkness."

He came into contact with a locked door and grumbled to himself. The switch was beside the door so he flicked it on. There was nothing else he could do until someone opened the door. From the other side he could hear the front door open. Someone came in crying, Shampoo again he thought. Normally he would be out there to try and comfort her, but he couldn’t get over the thought that the woman he’d seen was Shampoo, but not his Shampoo.

Light was coming in through a small window above the storage room. Could probably be pried open with a knife, he considered. The very least he needed to get out for a while and try to clear up his mind.

~

Akane’s knuckles looked a little red closer to the end of the school day. He’d seen them like that more often than he liked. It was Kuno’s fault, he understood. All those beatings had given him a jaw like stone and that was where she usually hit him.

Ranma stared at the knuckles for a moment. Turning away when Akane glanced his way. She might be the best choice of his fiancées but he didn’t want her catching him looking at her. Akane could be cute if she weren’t such a macho tomboy. It really was disgusting.

When he first got to the Tendou’s, Akane was still sort of cute with the bit of baby fat and soft features. Now she had a hardened edge with all the training she’d done to try and match him in a fight. If she’d given up trying to be better at him in everything they might be closer. Instead, Akane became more defensive about everything and expected things to go perfectly just because he or one of his fiancées could do them.

Everything with her had to be about brute strength. There was no finesse in anything she did. Akane thought she could beat him if she were stronger. Ranma scoffed at the idea and man fun of her for it each time he was roped into sparring with the gorilla.

"Hey." Akane pointed down the street. "Is that Mousse?"

Ranma looked. Indeed it was. The boy wasn’t wearing his coke bottle glasses and he seemed to be navigating his way around the neighborhood without a problem. "I think so. Probably out looking for me for a fight or something."

"Not everyone is looking to challenge you, Ranma." Akane snorted and headed towards the Chinese boy.

Yeah, right, Ranma thought. He had plenty of memories to suggest otherwise. Everyone he ever met wanted to fight with him for one reason or another.

He followed Akane after a moment. Leaving her would help avoid any extra malletings, but she would probably be mad that he ditched her and just mallet him when she got home. "May as well get this over with now." He mumbled to himself.

~

It was amazing. Everywhere he looked he saw something, perfectly.

Mousse had given up long ago trying to ask himself how this was all possible and was just soaking up the view. Things looked so . . clear. Trees had leaves, animals had fur, peoples’ clothes didn’t blend together, and he could see all the little imperfections in things.

"Hey Mousse!"

Akane was coming down the street, right out of school. She was a pretty girl now that he could see her clearly. Why would Ranma be stringing along all these other girls if he has Akane?

"Afternoon, Akane." He smiled pleasantly at her. She seemed to like it and smiled back. "How are you doing?"

"Fine." She stood before him, looking at him curiously. "Did you get contacts or something?’

Mousse blinked. "No, my eyesight is fine."

"But you’re usually as blind as a bat without your glasses." She pointed out.

He shrugged. "I got better."

"Hey there Mousse. What’s up?"

Ranma came to a stop beside Akane, the annoying cocky smile he always wore plastered on his face.

Mousse growled back. "You’re lucky I’m not attacking you after what you did to Shampoo."

"What did you do?!" Akane turned an angry glare at Ranma, already expecting the worst of him.

"I didn’t do nothin’." Ranma shot back quickly. Too quickly for Akane’s taste and she pulled out a mallet from nowhere. Ranma backed off quickly.

"Shampoo was crying when she got back, you womanizing pervert!" Mousse shouted angrily. He felt the insides of his robes for some throwing daggers.

"Hey!" Ranma avoided Akane’s first swing. "I just didn’t eat her laced food is all!"

"She was trying to give you more of the love potion ramen?" Akane asked, a deal calmer though the mallet was still ready.

"Yeah."

Her face turned red again. "Well why don’t you just eat it next time and marry her for all I care!" Ranma was dodging again.

Around this point Mousse was beginning to forget the events of this morning and concentrating on how chauvinistic Ranma was. His lovely Shampoo went to see him again! And because of it she returned crying! "Prepare to die, enemy of women!"

The daggers flew from his outstretched hands. Master of the Hidden Weapons was a foe not to be toyed with. As the daggers missed their target, he moved easily into a game of tag with spiked mace attached to a ten-foot chain.

"Hey, what are ya so mad at me for, duck boy?!" Ranma taunted Mousse as he led him onto the roofs and in the direction of the park. Akane was following but her dumpy little legs couldn’t keep up. Ranma sighed, "I wonder if she’ll ever trust me?"

Akane had all but disappeared as they reached the end of the rooftops and were bounding into the trees. Ranma continued to twirl and pivot to avoid the flying weapons. Boy, Ranma thought, Mousse’s aim is a lot better without his glasses on.

"Stand still and take your punishment, pig!" Mousse called out.

Ranma jumped over the spiked mace, which became embedded in the ground behind him. "Hey, do I look like Ryouga, you blind blunder?!"

Mousse yanked hard on the mace, pulling at the fountain it was now connected to. "Die!"

"Not this time." Ranma snorted, jumping over the mace and kicking it harder. It hit Mousse below the knees, taking the boy for a tumble onto the ground.

Beaten again. Mousse clenched his fists around the grips of some swords from his robes. How it would feel to strangle the life out of this pest once and for all. Mousse would give almost anything to . . .

He stopped.

Anger vanishing and weapons falling from suddenly limp hands, Mousse began to mumble incoherently at the girl who was standing before him in a puddle of the fountain’s lost water.

"Huh?" Ranma looked at herself to see why Mousse might have stopped throwing his stupid daggers. "You okay, man?"

Mousse crumpled onto his knees, mumbling too low to be heard at a distance.

"Yo, man, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?" Ranma looked the boy over to check for any obvious wounds, but she found nothing to be wrong with him. Nothing unusual, she amended. Finally deciding something was wrong with the Chinese boy, she took a few wary steps in his direction. Maybe she could figure it out by whatever he was mumbling.

Mousse suddenly choked up as the redhead suddenly got very close. He could smell her soap washed skin, the bit of sweat from the workout, and see into her concerned blue eyes. Noticing the girl was within reach, he brought up his arms again, quickly taking her by the waist.

Ranma gasped. The grip was stronger than she expected and she was finding it very difficult to worm her way out of the boy’s grasp. "What are you doing you idiot!?!" she demanded.

Staring up at her with love in his eyes, "Oh my beautiful red-haired girl. Wo ai ni!"

"Eeeeeeek!!!!!"

End Chapter One

* * *

Heh heh. This is likely the beginning of a new series of stories for me, which I will entitle "Chance Love Productions". Other stories are in the works already. They will be shorter than most of my others, but will work through all those strange possibilities if two members of the Ranma cast (and possible cross-overs) were to attempt hitting it off.

Of course my site is called ‘Temple of the Creative’ so I’ll try to make these stories as amusingly original as possible but I will use old match-ups if it strikes my fancy (usually occurs around four a.m. with ten empty cans of soda at my side). So no whining that someone has been matched up with someone else before.

Ja ne.