Author: Mykon1 PM
When he loses the ability to absorb female ki, Happosai must resort to desperate measures to cheat death. He also needs Ranma to help. Rating to be safe due to a fantasy scene.Rated: Fiction M - English - Friendship/Romance - Ranma & Happosai - Chapters: 24 - Words: 148,687 - Reviews: 123 - Favs: 131 - Follows: 148 - Updated: 11-27-12 - Published: 02-09-12 - id: 7820828
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A Ranma One Half Fan Fiction
By Michael A. Ivins
Ranma along with all of his friends, enemies and acquaintances are the property of Takahashi Rumiko. I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement and hopefully that of my readers. Sailor Moon and the Senshi aren't mine either. Please don't sue me.
This story takes place after the end of the manga.
Through the streets of Nerima ward in Tokyo a small figure raced. It was a man, but the size of a child and wearing a gi so dark a purple that it was almost black. From the white hair that formed a fringe around the back of his bald head and the wrinkles on his face it was evident the man was quite old. He had a cloth tied over his head and knotted under his nose as if that was meant to conceal his identity. It was odd that one of such apparent age was so vigorous and energetic.
Over his shoulder the tiny man carried an enormous cloth bag that looked to be made from a bed sheet. It was obvious that the bag was stuffed nearly to overflowing. The small man was being chased by a large group of women. The little man's pursuers were shaking fists and brandishing improvised weapons such as broom handles and mops. They loudly shouted things about having their property returned and calling the man a thief, a pervert and even worse things.
The expression on the tiny thief's face was one of exuberance and joy. He did so love this activity. It made his life so exciting and fun. Even the risk of what the women would do if they caught him added spice to the fun.
There was little chance of him being caught today. He was getting close to home and he put on an extra little burst of speed and bounded extra high. That little bit was enough to lose his pursuit. In enjoyment of this accomplishment for yet another day, he shouted out, "What a haul, what a haul!"
Shortly he arrived at a private home in a residential neighborhood. Attached to the house by a covered walkway, there was a martial arts training hall. A sign near the front gate proclaimed, "Tendo School of Indiscriminate Grappling."
The tiny man didn't bother with the gate, bounding to the top of the privacy wall that surrounded the property and then to an open window on the second floor. This was the room that he had claimed as his own. That wasn't to say that the owner of the home was exactly pleased with him being there, but the homeowner was too much of a wimp to complain much.
The other residents of the house had become sufficiently accustomed to the old man's comings and goings that they didn't take much notice of it any more. At least they didn't pay much attention to it as long as he didn't bother them directly.
The little man set his bag on the floor and opened it, gazing in gleeful rapture at the sight. Panties, bras and other items of feminine lingerie were in the bag. This evening he had really scored with some unusually lacy items.
The aged pervert had great admiration for the designers of women's lingerie. They managed to create true things of beauty to perform such simple functions. Ah, but that was enough looking for now. He got these silky darlings because he needed to touch them. Their beauty was secondary.
The first task was to sort the haul into the various garment types. When he picked up the first pair of panties he gave it a look of mild distaste. Not only was this pair of panties plain looking, it was obviously brand new and never worn. He tossed it aside. This pair of panties would have none of the scents of a healthy woman, none of the body oils and traces of perspiration that made such things so delightful to touch. Most importantly, never worn panties would have no traces of the owner's ki.
While it was something of an exaggeration to say that women's ki was as important to the old man as was breathing, that assessment was not far off the mark. Indeed it was true that the man named Happosai needed to absorb ki either directly from women or from their undergarments or he would die or at least go into a hibernation state.
Today the old man felt more in need of a female ki fix then usual. Even though he hadn't exerted himself more than normal, he felt tired. At least more tired than the day's activities should have made him. He picked up a bra. Ah, that was better. This was one that he had taken off a woman who was still wearing it at the time.
He held the bra in his hands and gently rubbed it against his face. Even if he really only needed the ki residue he still enjoyed the feel and the scent. After he had finished he set the bra almost reverently aside and picked up the next one.
As he continued with this activity he had an odd sense of something wrong. That was strange. He had brought home a big load of pretties and with the exception of the one new item, the rest were just full of ki. What could possibly be wrong?
After going though about a quarter of the bag, he realized something. He was pulling ki from the garments, but not as much as usual. Frowning, he attuned his trained ki senses and examined the ki in the lingerie. The odd thing was that there was still some left in the clothes he had placed on the pile of ones he had thought he was finished with.
He picked up one from the discard pile and examined it again. Yes, there was life energy residue still there. Why had he not been able to draw all of it out? He concentrated on the garment and tried to draw out the last remnants of ki. Try as he might, that last bit of the ki in the garment stayed where it was.
Was he losing his ability to draw ki from used women's garments? If that were the case it did not bode well for the little man's continued existence. He tried with some of the other garments in the discard pile and found the problem was the same. He had drawn all of the ki he could, but in every case it was less than he had been able to get in the past.
This was bad, very bad! He had allowed himself to get so wrapped up in day to day life what with the panty raids and fighting with the boy that he had stopped in his search. After centuries was it even possible to return to what he had been when he had been born? He had to believe it could happen.
In a considerably more somber mood, the tiny man went back to sorting his collection and taking from each garment what ki he could. It was not as much as he wanted or truly needed, but that was no excuse for not getting what was possible.
When he finished, he set the garments aside. He no longer worried about using his iron to press the garments and to store them lovingly away as he had in the past. He had more important concerns.
The aged pervert went to one of his trunks and used his key to unlock it. Then he rummaged around inside until he found a magical artifact. After pulling it out, he inspected it and tried to remember what he knew of the item. Finally he nodded. This would do. The artifact wasn't one that he actually had a use for, but it had sufficient power that he would hopefully be able to trade it for something that would help him.
Now where to take it? There was a dealer of magical items on the south side of the ward who might have something. He placed the magical artifact into a leather pouch and tied the drawstrings to the belt of his gi.
Walking to the window he paused to survey the contents of his room. He had to admit that, aside from his collection of martial arts and magic books and scrolls, most of the stuff he had was junk. Little of it was of actual use, but it comforted him to have it.
Turning back to the window he shook his head. It would seem that he now had a time limit. Before it had always seemed as if he could take all the time he wanted, but that was no longer true. It was not so much that he feared death as he hated to leave this life without accomplishing his greatest longstanding goal.
He exited the window and headed off to a meeting with the dealer of magical antiquities. If that dealer didn't have what he needed, then there were others he could try.
Author's Note: Trying to write from Happosai's POV. Let me know if you think that worked alright. What is this "goal" that he feels he must accomplish before he dies? Stay tuned.
I originally posted the unfinished story "Happi's Redemption" on Media Miner. Since posting it there I have added this prologue and made other additions and corrections. I have chosen this to be my first fic to post on . I hope you like it.