He stared forward at the wall covered in liquer bottles of various incrimates, irritated at his latest ordeal. He told her he wasn't in the fucking mood. He insisted he wouldn't be responsible for his actions, but nooooo, the bitch just had to push the point.

Ryuji took a long drag from his third bottle of beer; Blue Mary was pretty cute, though, hopefully he didn't fuck her face up in his blind rage.

Ryuji Yamazaki, prominant extra-legal businessman of Southtown, currently on 'business' in Japan, felt a pang of regret over the confrontation.

That's when he took another draw from his beer. Nope, it was just heartburn. So, he wasn't actually feeling upset about working the former detective like a Muay Thai fighter with a banana tree; life was too short for regrets like that. Now that he was thinking about it, in hindsight, it was probably pretty damn funny. Nonetheless, he decided he would send her roses and a letter of apology, at least once he figured out what hospital she was taken to.

That did leave one totally unrelated problem, though. Ryuji was horney. The thought of having the blonde at his mercy like that did give him a slighlty tingly sensation in his crotch.

Ryuji took a long gulp of his beer. Yeah, the tingling sensation was still there.

The thought that it was also Terry Bogard's current potential relationship also helped to increase his fervor. He needed to get a lay, his balls were churning like the Pacific during El Nino season. The analogy didn't help any, only seeming to make the aching pressure worse. With that on his mind, he enquired to the barkeep where the nearest pink salon was, then beat him and the other patrons of the bar severely, instead of opting to pay his bill (actually he just wanted to beat the Hell outta more people, it was a rather fun and therapeutic hobby of his), and set out to get some sushi.

He probably shouldn't have started that barfight, though. The pressure was gonna have him walking funny all the way there.

Oh, how unfair life was, to give him such a major hard-on, and have the nearest easy-accessable pair of gorgeous female spread legs be a three kilometer hike. It was then that life decided to throw him a bone. A pretty bone dressed in a silk kimono, with red hair, who fretted over the omai her parents had set up for her in a month.

Nodoka was fustrated at the idea of having her life chosen for her. She knew her parents meant well, but to choose her husband? She had a great deal in life to do before she settled down. And what if he's ugly? Lost in her thoughts, Nodoka just barely missed bumping into the broad-chested man.

"Hey, babe. Where you off to on a light like this...?"

One month, three days, and fourteen hours later...

Poor Ryuji sat at his large oak desk, in his office over-looking Southtown. Sure, he was an accomplished criminal, with his own successfully budding criminal empire, but something seemed to be missing.

He realized it a few days ago, during one of his drunken stupors; it was lonely at the top. Sure, he could afford call-girls, he could play with the near infinite reserves of gold-diggers that found their way up to his office, but in the end, they would ask for their money, and tell him it was nice doing business with him, or he would have to throw them down the stairs.

What he really needed was someone who understood him, someone who shared his world views. A nice, violent woman who hated the world for what it did to her life, and felt the obligation to take it out on everyone. Such a woman would be a lovely dream come true...


Ryuji set down his bottle of hard scotch, and pressed his finger on the com button, "What the Hell do you want?"

The rather high pitched security guard replied, "[There's someone here to see you, she says it's urgent]"

Ryuji growled, he wasn't in the mood for a gold-digger right now. He wanted to wallow in self-pity, "What the fuck do I pay you damn asses for? And why the hell are you talking in that annoying high pithed voice?"

"[Because she's got a firm grasp on my balls, sir. Can I send her in... please]"

Ryuji decided to grunt in an affirmative, and mentally noted to have his security guards castrated to rid them of that particular weakness. The tall man continued to stare out the window, as a familiar red-headed woman in a simple blouse and knee-length skirt, carrying a small suitcase with her, entered his vast office. She didn't even look around, as she strode right for the desk in front of her.

Ryuji had turned around, and sat down with an expression of irritation, "What the fuck do you want? And do I know you from somewhere?"

The red-headed woman smiled hopefully, as she leaned forward, allowing Ryuji to note the top two buttons on her blouse were undone. She tenderly reached her right hand out, and used it to stroke the top of Ryuji's left hand, drawing a confused look from the gangster. This one had her act together, he realized. He doubted he would throw her down the stairs.

Of course, that was before she suddenly used his papertack to pin his hand to the desk. You know, the things with the long spike in the middle that are used to hold notes.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!" Ryuji calmly shouted in a shrill voice, as he struggled to remove his hand from the desk; she nailed it there but gooooood!

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" The woman affectionately screamed, allowing tears to run down her eyes in torrents, "I'M RUINED! MY HONOR IS IN QUESTION, MY FAMILY DISOWNED ME, AND I'M BROKE, THANKS TO YOU!!!"


Nodoka pounded her hand onto the desk, incidentally onto the bottom of the upturned and imbedded note tack, securing it further, "THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID! I'M YOUR DAMN RESPONCIBILITY NOW! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT YOU CRAZY BITCH!" Ryuji was becoming irritated at the cryptic way this woman before him was speaking...

Ranma/Real Bout Fatal Fury (King of Fighters)
'Yet Another Ranma-as-an-Orochi descendant Fic'