As Cologne left to do some research (and to make sure that Mousse hadn’t let the Nekohanten go to hell in her absence), the five teenagers weren’t exactly encouraged by her theories, but at least they were a little better informed.
Not that it helped much. “This stinks,” Akane said.
“Ya got that right.”
“Why does stuff like this keep happening to you?”
“Don’t know.”
“And just as importantly, why am I always getting caught up in it?”
“Hey, it’s not like you’re the only one,” Ukyo reminded her friend/rival. “We’re mixed up in this, too.”
“Spatula Girl is right. Besides, not like Akane better choice for Ranma just because she always need to be rescued.”
“What?!”
“You heard Shampoo.”
“Why you—”
In the midst of this, Kodachi reminded the others of her presence with a loud, derisive sniff. This action immediately drew Akane’s attention.
“What was that for?”
“That,” Kodachi explained, “was for your utter lack of perspective on the matter.”
Shampoo groaned a little — yet another unfamiliar word. “Perspective? What Flower Girl mean by that?” She hoped that the irritated tone would be enough to conceal the fact that she really wasn’t sure what Kodachi meant.
“While you peasants were busy moping, I was contemplating strategies through which Ranma-sama may shed this inconvenience, and I believe I have hit upon a notion that, while somewhat distasteful, may well prove to be the key to removing the links between him and the three of you.”
“And you,” Ukyo added.
Kodachi was clearly confused by this suggestion. “Why on earth would Ranma wish to be deprived of my commentary on the events of his life? I most certainly desire his.”
Ranma could hardly believe what Kodachi was saying, especially since he could tell through his link that she was being sincere. Ain’t she worried at all ’bout not havin’ no privacy?
| But Ranma-sama, we’ll be sharing our lives together soon enough. Why should I be troubled at the notion of sharing our minds? Indeed, one could say it is Fate’s ultimate seal of approval upon our inevitable union. | Why would anyone care about her privacy? She certainly doesn’t care about other people’s, what with those damned ambushes of hers. | Oh, dear. I sincerely hope that that was just a rhetorical question rather than an unspoken query for my help: I’m still befuddled by Japanese notions of privacy myself. | Ugh. That reminds me: there’s no way any of us are going to have any chance of privacy now, is there? I really hope these things aren’t permanent — something like that would probably screw up our sex lives beyond all hope of recovery. I mean, I know that there’s going to be times when we’re together when he’s going to have to put effort into thinking about baseball, but I certainly don’t need to know what Sadaharu Oh’s slugging average is when we’re making love. And if he doesn’t pick me — no, I can’t think like that. But if he doesn’t… I really don’t want to listen in on Ranchan’s honeymoon unless I’m there. |
| Sharin’ our lives? Kodachi, I don’t even like you. Heck, I can’t even pretend ta like ya without someone else nudgin’ me along. | Akane winced upon hearing this snippet of Ranma’s conversation with Kodachi. He’s got to be referring to the White Lily incident. Why the hell did I ever convince him to date Kodachi that time? It probably just encouraged her. Of all the times for Ranma to decide that it was worth his while to listen to what I had to say, why did it have to be then? | Someone else nudging him along? Who on earth could possibly be foolish enough to advise Airen to encourage this… this… madwoman’s delusions? The only possibility I can think of his his mother — she does have some decidedly odd ideas about courtship behavior — but surely even she could see the folly of something like this. | |
| Don’t be silly, dearest; of course you love me. You simply have yet to realize this, due to the distractions of your lesser suitors and the interference of the redheaded harridan. | Speaking of sex, what’s going to happen if I start sensing Ranma’s attraction to girls? Could… could I become attracted to them as a result? Ukyo shuddered briefly and tried to dismiss the notion from her mind. | ||
| “Redheaded harridan?” Um, Kodachi, about that — uh, well, there’s somethin’ ya really oughta know about her…. | Akane sighed to herself. We might as well get this over with. I just hope she doesn’t go ballistic if we can get her to accept reality. | Oh… that’s right. This blueblood has yet to realize that Airen’s two forms are not separate people, much like her thick-skulled stick-wielding kin. | What? Ranchan’s decided to try explaining his curse to her again? I can’t say I blame him — and with these links, it might actually work this time. |
Kodachi, however, didn’t give Ranma a chance to explain anything, as she had just found the perfect segue into the point that she’d wanted to make. “I think it might be worthwhile to seek out the assistance of the redheaded harridan. Surely, a mage as powerful as she is aware of some way to counteract this genie’s blunder. Granted, it may take some convincing to get her to do something so noble, but fortunately, the Kuno family has a long tradition of impeccable negotiating skills which I may call to bear upon the situation.”
Ranma didn’t think this idea had merit, for reasons that should have been obvious to anyone, telepath or otherwise. “Um, Kodachi, I ain’t too sure that’s a good idea….”
But if Kodachi was listening to Ranma’s interior monologue, she apparently wasn’t paying attention to the most pertinent information, because her reaction was as blasé as ever. “Perhaps you’re right… if there’s one thing that’s been proven time and again, it’s that she can’t be trusted — no doubt the harridan would use this as a pretense for some rite that would ensnare you within her clutches. In fact, upon further consideration, I would not be surprised to learn that she had something to do with this genie business….” —Yes, that must be it! It was she who used her wiles to put my Ranma-sama in this situation! Such a dastardly deed must not go unpunished: I shall destroy her! Oh ho ho ho ho ho!
Kodachi’s laugh was disturbing enough when it was audible, but unvoiced, it was downright creepy. Ranma put that aside — he had other things to worry about. “Look, Kodachi, I think ya really oughta consider givin’ this whole ‘redheaded harridan’ thing a rest….”
Kodachi preemptively dismissed his objections with a wave of her hand. “Yes, yes, I know that you’re willing to make all manner of excuses for her. Fear not, for I do not hold you accountable for actions you’ve taken in the past while under the effects of her witchery. As I said, one way or another, I shall see to it that she never hearkens upon your doorstep again.”
“Uh…”
“She make Redhead Girl go bai-bai,” Shampoo explained.
“Oh…” Well, if I’m honest, I guess it would be nice ta be rid of her—
Kodachi’s mouth turned upward into a grin. Yes! Vindication at last!
—but with my luck, Kodachi probably thinks that the only way ta do that is ta kill her.
Kodachi sighed. “Please, be reasonable, Ranma-sama. Do you really think me so foolish as to not reserve lethal force as a final option, when all other possibilities were exhausted?”
“Considering that you’re willing to use lethal force in a Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics competition, I’d say that’s a ‘yes,’” Akane interjected.
“Oh ho ho ho ho ho! That, my dear Akane, is highly unlikely to ever occur — the rules of Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics clearly state that killing one’s opponent in the course of an official competition results in an immediate disqualification and forfeiture of any titles one may currently hold.”
“Is that why you only try to kill your opponents before your matches?”
“I never kill — I only incapacitate. But we are getting off the subject; to return to Ranma-sama’s point, I am willing to use lethal force in the harridan’s case, because she is an extreme example. Once I have dispatched her, Ranma will be free to run to my arms.”
“More like he’ll be in a decorative urn.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“If you kill the redhead, you’ll kill Ranma.”
“I don’t understand; has she somehow linked his life to hers?”
Akane’s patience was at its limit. She slammed her hands on the table and shouted, “No, you idiot; they’re the same person!”
This was a bit much for Kodachi to accept. “My dear, have you perchance been sampling some of your own cuisine?”
It’s true.
“W-What?”
The redhead and I are the same person. We’ve always been the same person.
“Heh-heh… what do you mean, Ranma-sama… is that…. That’s some sort of poetic image, correct? There’s no way you and she could possibly—”
“Ucchan?”
“Way ahead of you, Ranma,” said the chef as she returned to the table with a glass of water. “Here you are.”
“Thanks.” Ranma turned to Kodachi. “Listen, Kodachi, you don’t got any choice in the matter. I’ve tried ta tell ya this before, but it ain’t done no good up ta now. Well, this is yer last chance, as far as I’m concerned. Ya either accept what yer about ta see, or I’m gettin’ a restrainin’ order, ’cuz I don’t want ya botherin’ me or anyone else over this.”
“What do you mean? What am I about to see?”
“Just keep payin’ attention ta the link while it happens. If that don’t convince ya, nuthin’ will.” Ranma lifted the glass and emptied the contents over her head.
As the transformation occurred, Kodachi was stunned for a second… but only a second. She then lunged towards the redheaded girl on the opposite side of the table, only to be restrained by Ukyo and Shampoo. “You… you fiend! Villainess! What have you done to my Ranma-sama?!”
First of all, I ain’t never been your Ranma-sama. Second, I ain’t done nuthin’ I haven’t done hundreds of times before.
What? Ranma-sama? You’re here? Where are you?
I’m sittin’ across the table from ya.
What do you mean? There’s no one sitting there but the redheaded harridan.
Exactly.
What? You’re claiming that you… and she… Just what are you saying, Ranma?
I’m sayin’ ya should just chill out for a minute or two… I got some memories I wanna share with ya.
Ranma had related the events leading to his curse many times before, but never in such a detailed way. He simply recalled everything he could: the way Jusenkyo looked, the noises in its ambiance, the smell of the fresh mountain air. He recalled the surprise upon seeing his father transformed into a panda, the feel of the water as he fell into the Nyannichuan, and the utterly indescribable sensation of feeling the form of his body shift. The shock of looking at his reflection, and seeing a busty redhead stare back. The high-pitched, throat-shredding scream that followed. The confusion. The self-doubt. The shame.
Using the telepathic link, Ranma transmitted all that and more in just under one minute. When she stopped, she noticed something odd coming from the minds of all four suitors: silence. Well, it wasn’t really silence: there was still the subtle murmur as their minds tried to process everything they had learned, but there wasn’t any immediate, distinct reaction to the memories.
| My god… is… was that what it was really like? And to think I’ve accused him of enjoying his curse…. | Holy shit. That… is insane. I know I’m supposed to be able to read his mind, but I never thought it would come through so… so clearly…. | I always thought my own curse gave me adequate insight on his mind, but I never stopped to think about it like this before. I had some idea of what would happen when I received my own, but for Ranma… | What am I to make of this? Clearly, Ranma-sama believes that he is indeed the redheaded harridan… and… and these memories are clearly his… and they must be coming from that girl sitting across from me… which would make her… But that cannot be! |
Kodachi couldn’t even verbalize her conclusion in her head, so anathema it was to her. They can not be one and the same… unless… A look of understanding suddenly came to her face. “Of course! It all makes sense now!”
Ranma, who had already seen the gymnast’s epiphany in its entirety, winced and put her head in her hands. So close…
“What makes sense?” asked Akane, who sincerely doubted that Kodachi had made any sort of breakthrough at all.
“This situation. Clearly, it is the doing of the redheaded harridan!” The other teenagers groaned — so much for progress.
“Kodachi….”
“Allow me to explain. I accept that this redheaded girl before me is indeed my darling Ranma-sama — the evidence precludes any other interpretation. Yet the fact the this form bears is a duplicate of my greatest nemesis must be accounted for. Thus, I conclude that this is yet another of the harridan’s dastardly tricks; she has caused him to take her form so that when I sought to mete out justice upon her, I would erroneously attack my beloved instead, accomplishing the double purpose of allowing her to escape her richly earned fate while driving him away from me, and into her arms.”
“Kodachi, if the harridan caused my curse, how d’ya explain my memories of Jusenkyo?”
“Obviously, that horrible woman addled your mind and implanted them there. But that is but a trifling matter… now the trouble will be figuring out how to tell the difference between my beloved’s cursed form and the harridan herself….”
“Kodachi, please, just listen—”
Ukyo, however, stepped in with a bit of practical wisdom: “Ranchan, just let it go. This is probably about as close to acceptance as you’re going to get. Trust me, you should quit now while you’re ahead.”
“Shampoo agree.”
Akane voiced similar opinions as well. “As much as I’d like an excuse to smash that loony into mush, I’m going to have to second their opinions. At least now she won’t be attacking your girlform as much.”
“Yeah… I guess yer right.” The redhead sighed in resignation. “So is there anythin’ else?”
The others present all shook their heads. “I don’t think so, Ranchan,” Ukyo replied.
“Good, ’cuz I’m goin’ home. I gotta get some trainin’ in.”
Cologne’s theories about the telepathic links were proving to be rather accurate; in particular, the rate at which Ranma was learning to deal with all of the new information that was flooding his brain was nothing short of astonishing. Of course, it helped that he soon found an activity which could provide him with “quiet” without resulting in unconsciousness: namely, the Art. Ranma found that as he went through the motions of various kata as part of his training, he was able to focus his mind almost entirely on the kata; while this certainly didn’t block the thoughts of his four suitors from entering his mind, it did muffle them to the point were he could forget that the links even existed. This probably explained (at least in part) why he didn’t notice the intensity with which his first fiancée was observing him until his practice was nearly over.
“Oh, hey there, Akane. Didn’t notice ya. Sorry ’bout that. Ya need somethin’?” When this didn’t provoke an answer (verbal or otherwise) Ranma then took not at the odd expression on his fiancée’s face. “Uh, Akane, why are ya looking at me like that? Was I thinkin’ somethin’ weird or somethin’?”
Huh? Wait… Ranma said something. “What? Oh, no… not at all. It’s just that while you were doing that kata… well, your mind was so… peaceful, I guess.”
“Peaceful? Akane, if I used that move in combat, my opponent would probably have ta go ta the emergency room.”
“I know that, baka. I’m talking about your mind here, not the move. You were just so calm, and it was… well, it’s like those new age-y nature sounds CDs Kasumi listens to sometimes.”
“Ya mean the thunderstorms and that stuff?”
“I guess… though it seemed more like that one CD of a river.”
“Oh,” Ranma said as comprehension came to his face. “That makes sense.”
“It does?”
“Yeah. That kata’s based offa somethin’ from Jeet Kune Do.”
“Bruce Lee’s style?”
“Yup. That style uses a lotta water imagery an’ stuff in its philosophy, so the river thing makes sense.”
“I didn’t say it reminded me of a river — just that it was like a river.”
“An’ Bruce Lee didn’t say that Jeet Kune Do should remind people of water, either — he said a martial artist should be like water.”
Akane sighed. I just don’t get it.
Don’t worry, Akane. Yer a pretty good martial artist — ya just need ta study JKD a little, an’ I’m sure you’ll get it.
I suppose I’ll have to trust you on that— Hold on…. Akane suddenly realized something very important about what she’d just “heard” Ranma think. “You really think I’m a good martial artist?”
“What? I, uh, I actually thought that?” Ranma didn’t remember thinking it, but then, he hadn’t really been directing his thoughts at the time.
“So you don’t think I’m good?”
“I, uh, I don’t know….” That depends on whatcha mean by “good.”
Well, what do you mean by it?
I, uh, it depends…
Fortunately for Ranma, at that moment, Kasumi’s voice rang out, announcing that dinner was ready, and giving him something else to think about. “Looks like it’s time ta eat.”
“I’m not done with you, Ranma.”
I hope we’re havin’ that tempura of hers…. His mind firmly focused on food, Ranma wandered towards the dining area, leaving a somewhat frustrated Akane in his wake.
Later that evening, Cologne pored over antiquated scrolls and texts which has spread to cover nearly every flat surface in her room — leaving just enough space for her to balance on her staff, in fact. So intense was this study, that the Matriarch almost lost her balance when there came a sudden knock at her door (almost, mind you). She quickly gathered up a few of the more sensitive documents before calling out, “Come in.”
The door opened to reveal her beloved great-granddaughter. “Are you busy, Great-grandmother?”
Cologne was less than pleased to hear her great-granddaughter speak in her native tongue; the Matriarch firmly believed that total immersion was the most effective way to learn a second language. “Shampoo, what have I told you about speaking Mandarin?”
The Amazon sighed. “Should not do until better at Japanese,” she repeated. “But Shampoo not see why should have to continue to due so — link with husband translate automatically.”
“That may be true at the moment, but right now, you have no way of knowing how permanent these links are — if they’re removed, you’ll be in the same situation you were before. Besides, Ranma isn’t the only Japanese speaker you have to deal with on a regular basis — in fact, if he does choose you, that all but guarantees that you’ll be spending a significant amount of time in this country.”
The lavender-haired teenager nodded in resignation. “Shampoo understand. It just….”
“Yes?”
“It just that Shampoo tired of sounding like stupid bimbo. Try hard, but always been bad at languages. Now, it finally seem like there another way, and Shampoo not see why should keep at failure.”
“You have been making progress, though.”
“How? Nearly year and half in Japan, and Shampoo still not get grammar right. When Airen read mind, he actually seem surprised Shampoo have coherent thoughts. In Mandarin, people know Shampoo not idiot.”
Cologne nodded in sympathy; foreign language skills aside, Shampoo was a smart girl, and being constantly viewed as a dullard had to be a huge blow to her pride. The fact that both Cologne and Mousse were almost completely fluent in Japanese only compounded the problem, as it made it appear that Shampoo’s intelligence was low relative to the rest of the tribe, which was just not true: Mousse’s relative aptitude at languages was more than balanced by his utter lack of common sense, and Cologne had been almost as bad at foreign languages when she was Shampoo’s age. “You mustn’t give up so easily, child. Believe me, you have made progress, if not in grammar, then at the very least in your vocabulary: when you first got here, you certainly didn’t know more complicated words like ‘coherent,’ for example. And most importantly, you almost never have problems understanding Japanese speakers.”
“They just using easy words. Think Shampoo stupid.”
“Maybe, but we both know that you aren’t — but unless you learn to speak the language well, you’ll be hard-pressed to convince native Japanese to believe that.”
“Shampoo know. Will keep trying. Still think it would be easier to have Ranma translate.”
“Except that Ranma isn’t all that articulate in his first language,” Cologne pointed out. “In fact, I believe that shortcoming of his is precisely what got him into his current predicament.”
“Good point.”
“Now, I believe this conversation has been sidetracked enough — what did you want to talk about?”
“It nothing, really. Restaurant in slow period, few customers, so Shampoo take break. Just curious — not sure why Great-Grandmother spending so much time alone.”
The Matriarch chuckled. “I supposed I have left you and Mousse high and dry, haven’t I? I’m just going over a few texts of mine to see if there’s anything that can improve your situation.”
“Can Shampoo help?”
“Not really. First of all, several of these texts are restricted to the Matriarch’s eyes only.”
“But Shampoo going to be Matriarch eventually.”
“Only if your fellow tribeswomen approve,” Cologne reminded her eager charge. “Besides, it doesn’t change the fact that you aren’t the current Matriarch, which means you still aren’t allowed to see these texts.”
Shampoo seemed disappointed as she admitted defeat: “Yes, Great-grandmother.”
“Now, will that be all?”
“Shampoo suppose. Will go back to restaurant now.”
“Good.”
The Matriarch breathed a sigh of relief as her great-granddaughter returned to her job — she didn’t like being deceitful around Shampoo, but now that she (along with Ranma and the rest of his suitors) were telepaths, Cologne couldn’t risk planting the wrong idea in her mind. She hadn’t being lying — not really. She really was trying to improve the situation, but at the moment she was focused on a very specific aspect of that situation that hadn’t occurred to Shampoo yet. At least, Cologne hoped that it hadn’t occurred to Shampoo yet.
It was quite simple; as Shampoo was both a high-ranking warrior in the tribe, as well as the Matriarch’s great-granddaughter, she had access to several sensitive Amazon secrets. Some were specific techniques, others dealt with plans for the villages defense, and still others were simply bits of information that could convince the bureaucratic goons in Beijing to revoke their fragile autonomy if they leaked out. In the end, the specific nature of those secrets was unimportant, because Amazon law was still clear for each case: only Amazons were allowed to know them. If a non-Amazon learned them, the law required death.
Ranma himself wasn’t a problem; as Shampoo’s groom, he was, technically, already an Amazon. The three other suitors, on the other hand, were not. Thus, this problem was rather huge: even though she was the head of an autonomous political entity, Cologne didn’t have diplomatic immunity in Japan, and even if she did, diplomatic immunity likely wouldn’t have covered acts that Japanese law would interpret as murder, and even if that were true, the end result would still probably involve the Japanese government putting pressure on the PRC to crack down on the Amazons — all in all, a extremely bad scenario. She had to find a way to deal with the situation before it became a problem, and that meant she needed time.
This was the reason that Cologne had misdirected Shampoo’s attention; if Shampoo realized that she could spark a nasty international incident simply by thinking about Amazon secrets, she would no doubt try to not think about those secrets, and as Akane had found out earlier that day, trying to not think about something almost always results in utter failure. Cologne needed some sort of solution, and fast. The question was whether or not she’d come up with something in time.
Ranma’s rapid acclimatization to his new telepathic abilities was quite fortunate for several reasons. First of all, it meant that he would likely keep most of his sanity (or at least what passed for sanity in Nerima). Second, and almost as important, was that he would eventually be able to block out the musings of Kodachi Kuno, with relative ease. Well, he was pretty sure that was what Cologne had meant, anyway.
Speaking of Kodachi, the eccentric young woman was currently in her room, pondering the best way to deal with the newly discovered information concerning the redheaded harridan. She had to admit, the latest scheme of her nemesis was quite ingenious: she had cursed Ranma-sama to change sexes when he came into contact with cold water. Of course, this in and of itself was not too problematic, because this change was temporary, and could be reversed with the application of hot water. No, what made this curse particularly devious was the fact that the girl Ranma turned into had the visage of the horrendous harridan herself.
Fortunately, Ranma-sama seemed willing to forgive all of the times she’d attacked his female form in cases of mistaken identity, provided that she drastically reduce the number of times this happened in the future. Kodachi knew, of course, that Ranma firmly believed that he and the harridan were the same person, but that was preposterous. After all, if Ranma really did possess the redhead’s magical faculties, he obviously would have used them to drive away all of his lesser suitors by now.
Meanwhile, at the Tendo’s dinner table, Ranma tried his best to keep from rolling his eyes as Kodachi attempted to warp the facts to fit her preordained conclusion yet again.
In any case, Kasumi had a more pressing concern to deal with: how to tell the difference between the redhead and her Ranma-sama. At first, the solution seemed obvious: she would simply splash the girl in question with hot water, and see whether or not she changed form. This, however, had several drawbacks. First of all, hot water was not always available, nor was it easily transportable, as it had a rather annoying tendency to lose its temperature over time, and thus could not easily be kept on her person; even with vacuum flasks and the like, she wouldn’t be able to carry large quantities with her. Second, and more troubling, was the fact that Ranma’s curse had apparently been “locked” on several occasions in the past, trapping him in his female form. This, in turn, meant that even if a suspicious redhead did not change form after being splashed with hot water, that in itself did not mean said redhead could not be her beloved Ranma-sama. And the more she thought about it, the more Kodachi realized that this “locking” business was just the sort of underhanded thing the harridan would do to drive him away from her.
Who knew curses could be so complicated? Indeed, Kodachi was still puzzling over the mechanics of aquatransexuality; considering the simplicity inherent in its trigger, the implications were quite complex. It was then that an odd thought came to her mind. If cold water makes Ranma-sama a girl, and hot water changes him back, what does lukewarm water do? Images of a hermaphroditic redhead floated into her mind. Hmm… odd, to say the least, but it still could be quite entertaining….
Please, Kodachi, I’m tryin’ ta eat here.
Kodachi abruptly sat up as she remembered that Ranma could “see” her imagination in the same way that he could “hear” her thoughts. Oh… I’m sorry to intrude upon your meal. It should have surprised her that Ranma would not appreciate an image such as that. After all, sex was one of the three subjects generally considered impolite to talk about while eating. Well, unless a very specific set of circumstances was in place….
Still eatin’ here.
I apologize.
And for yer information, gettin’ hit with lukewarm water don’t do nuthin’ ta me.
I see. Oh, well. It’s not like I was particularly interested in that particular fantasy, anyway. And after all, there are still plenty of other ways in which Ranma-sama’s misfortune might prove entertaining—
I. Am. Eating!
Ukyo could only hear Ranma’s half of this conversation, and therefore didn’t know precisely what was bothering her fiancé. This, however, suited her just fine — delving into the inner workings of Kodachi’s psyche wasn’t very high on her “to do” list; if anything, it was on her “to not do, ever, even if offered ¥1 billion in return” list. Besides, she was busy at the moment serving her customers; after all, she had to make up for the hour or so that Ucchan’s had been closed that afternoon.
In much the same way that Ranma had found it easy to focus on his kata and ignore the links in his mind, Ukyo was accomplishing the same feat almost as well through as she went about running her restaurant. This actually wasn’t that surprising. After all, for Ukyo, running a busy okonomiyaki joint wasn’t just an integral part of her Art, it was her Art in its totality: the fighting style that went with it was designed primarily to fend off thieves and robbers. Had her ancestors originally hailed from this specific area of Japan, her style might well have been called the Okonomiyaki School of Martial Arts Restaurant Management.
Still, she didn’t quite take her Art to the same level as Ranma, and as a result, a few scattered comments seeped through.
Man, this is delicious…. Way better than anythin’ Akane makes…. What? It’s true! Are ya tryin’ ta say yer better than Kasumi?… Don’t ask me that, please…. ’Cuz ya ain’t gonna like the answer, that’s why… Not even if I was starvin’…. Ow…. Why’d she go an’ do that? She asked a question, an’ I answered it…. She ain’t that bad, Shampoo…. Uh-oh. Wayward chopsticks, 3 o’clock…. Ha! Try an’ beat me at gettin’ seconds, will he? I don’t think so…. For the love of all that’s good, please do not go there, Kodachi…. Hot dang, this food is good…. Kasumi’s the best cook ever….
This last comment bruised Ukyo’s ego slightly, but she’d sampled Kasumi’s cooking multiple times before, and she had to admit that the eldest Tendo sister was a much better chef than her — except when the food being prepared was okonomiyaki, of course. Still, from her perspective, this wasn’t the type of thing worth bothering Ranchan over; he already had enough things to worry about on his mind (literally). So, she took the most logical course of action, which was to continue serving her customers. It was about the only normal thing that had happened at Ucchan’s all day.