Chaos Lord Productions Brings You.
Of Furos and Memories
Written by Chaos Lord
Disclaimer: All entities and devices in this story belong to their respective owners.
As he slid into the soothing waters of the furo, Ranma could not help but sigh with relief. The warm waters were a most welcome substance to the aquatransexual. Not only did they help to maintain his ruggedly masculine good looks, but they also served to temporarily remove the tension from a chaotic day. Sure, the chaos of his life was, as usual, so prevalent that it could drive most men to insanity, but for now there was blessed calm.
"God, what a year," he muttered. The last twelve months had been the most trying of his life. He had fought creatures most thought were only legends. Circumstances had even conspired force him to grapple with his own demons, a trying ordeal for anyone, let alone a man with such varied and terrifying monsters as the ones who plagued his life. Along the way though, he found something his years on the road couldn't possibly prepare him for; he had found love. It was her smile that made the chaos bearable. When he first looked into her beautiful eyes, Ranma felt a warmth greater than the hottest of waters. She burned in his veins in a way that both confused and invigorated him. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, he would even kill to save her; in fact he already had.
All the thinking about her gave Ranma yet another reason to enjoy the solitude of the furo. Here, among the hot waters and the mist, he could let his mind wander to "other" topics. Out there, in the real world, thinking about the soft, supple, flesh inherent to females would end in, at the very least, massive trouble. There were those who associated with Ranma that thought the pig-tailed warrior had zero sex drive. Such a thing couldn't be further from the truth. Like any red-blooded male, Ranma would certainly love to engage in carnal relations with a select group of women; especially his love. But unlike those idiots at Furinken, whose brains ended in their dicks, he knew that there was a price for such wanton lust.
During the training trip, his Pop had tried to avoid brothels and other places of sex. They were expensive, and had his Mother ever learned about infidelities on Genma's part then the Saotome patriarch could, at best, hope he would make a passable woman; because Nodoka would surely castrate him. While they may have missed most of the bordellos, there were times when visiting such places proved necessary. Sometimes, in order to pay his tab to the local Yakuza, the elder Saotome had been forced to work as a guard for one sex shop or another. Of course, being the lazy oaf he was, as soon as Ranma had been able enough to down a grown man, he was forced to assume his father's duties. Yet more "training" on the perilous path of a martial artist. It was at those houses of ill repute that Ranma received his sex education classes. What he saw still turned his stomach. Women, making only a handful of yen per hour, being forced to engage in the most torrid of sexual acts. On several occasions he had to help patch a poor girl up after her "client" thought it would be arousing to put his cigarettes out on her breasts. That, and others like it, was the reason he got so pissed when someone called him a pervert. He had seen what men could do to women, and that a person would accuse him of mistreating a female set his blood on fire.
Luckily, such accusations were few and far between these days. Life had become far more forgiving this last year. Sure there was a cry of pervert on occasion, especially when he spouted breasts at an inopportune moment. But his new friends stood by him, as they were supposed to, he learned, and made sure that all knew that, no matter the external components, inside he was all man. And apparently the girls had gotten a more thorough education as to his unwillingness to mistreat women, because some of those who had initially recoiled in disgust now sought his hand; along with other body parts as well.
Despite the great warmth of the furo's waters, Ranma felt his blood freeze. He was intimately familiar with that particular sound. It was the unmistakable report of the furo door being slid open. In his experience, such an occurrence meant that a female had entered the room. Now there was a five percent chance that whoever it was, was not aware of his presence and just wanted to wash herself. Kasumi came to mind as one such occurrence. Had the situation been different, the memory of her gloriously naked body would have caused a powerful stirring of his loins. As it was, Ranma was rather certain that this was one of the other ninety-five percent. That meant that the interloper not only knew he was in the room but that she also wanted to jump his bone.
Ranma's fears were substantiated when, through the mist, he could make out the silhouette of a woman. Realizing the necessity to keep a mental index of all the women he knew, Ranma quickly eliminated a good number of possible assaulters; just based on what he could make out. Furthermore, whoever she was, she had a rudimentary control of her internal energies, as he could not get a lock on her aura. This tidbit of information narrowed the list even further. Unfortunately, there remained an uncomfortably large pool of women whom could possibly be.
Knowing that he was trapped, and that a beat down, at the very least, was eminent, Ranma played his only card. With a simple flick of a mental switch, he triggered his transformation. A year ago, the curse was something he would have done anything to be rid of. His female half was so much weaker than his male side. Granted, it was way faster, but to Ranma, who had his spent his entire life becoming the strongest, any reduction in strength was unacceptable. What made things worse was the way his feminine form reacted to stimuli, especially the more pleasurable varieties. There were times when the only thing that kept him from caressing his magnificent orbs right before all of Nerima was the control he had cultivated. Still, as with his male form, the carnal desires of his female form sometime got the better of him. Though it was still just a solo job, such actions embarrassed him.
But then she came. She, who had always been there with him, gave him a choice. That in of itself was a novel experience. It was so rare that he ever got to make a decision instead of life making one for him. Her offer was a simple one, gain control of his curse or live forever tied to the vagueites of water. A cure, she maintained, did not exist. Many had tried, and they had all failed. Jusenkyo did not give up that which it had claimed. Even her powers, as great as they were, could only nudge the curse. The choice, in his mind, was a simple one. For too long he had been held at the whim of the curse. Any way to gain a semblance of mastery over it seemed to be a good thing. Before he could take her offer though, he was forced to pay a hefty price; he had to accept the curse as a part of who he was.
That had almost been a deal breaker. He had been through far too much shit in his life up till then just just give in and accept it. His possible benefactor had one hell of a counter argument though. She wondered what fighting it had gotten him? Surely embracing the curse could be no more painful than things had been until then. It certainly got Ranma thinking. Such high level soul searching was new to the pig-tailed young man, but by the end he had himself a sudo-cure, and one hell of a headache.
Despite his newfound control, Ranma did not think for an instant that he was the curse's master. Jusenkyo was a capricious entity and while, for the most part, he could determine when, or if, he would change, it could still surprise him. Along with the control came a slower transformation. Before he would shift in an eye blink, now he could take a minute or two to fully shift. When the springs reared their ugly head though, water still managed to change him, and it was just as fast as always. But for those he willed, especially when it ran counter to the curse's basic rules, like right now, things could slow down greatly.
The newcomer must have seen Ranma's hair turn from its deep black to its crimson feminine state, as she said, "Ranma Saotome, you better turn back this instant!"
Hearing the voice of his soul-mate, Ranma halted his transformation, along with his heart, in an instant. Never, in all the time he had known her, had she been so bold as to enter the bath with him. Despite his rational mind's desire to continue with the transformation and hide behind the breasts that had begun to push out from his chest, a rebellious part of Ranma's mind returned him to his fully male state. Several seconds later, when his love's luscious naked form stepped through the thick mist, that same part restarted his heart and directed every pint of blood downwards. Had he not been captivated by the sensual sway of the woman's hips Ranma may have been able to curse his libido for its unsanctioned actions. As it was, all he could do is marvel at the drops of water which slid down her full breasts to gather at the pink nipples standing proudly at attention.
Ranma finally found some semblance of coherent thought when she slipped into the water with him. To his libido's ire, a stray bout of common sense made its way through his lips. "I don't think," he would have gotten further but she placed a slim finger on his lips.
"Don't think," she replied softly. Despite the bold sensuousness she had displayed earlier, there was vulnerability in her eyes. "We've fought so hard for justice. Isn't time for some love."
In that moment, any thoughts of denying her vanished utterly. She was giving him a choice. She had taken the first step, did he have the balls to do what they both wanted? Ranma's answer was a simple one. With but an ounce of his considerable strength, the pig-tailed man lifted the woman he loved up and set her firmly down upon himself.
The rest will leave itself in the hands of the Kami. But, all those who could feel such things knew that, in an instant of physical ecstasy, two souls once separated by time and space were once again united. The future of these two people was uncertain, that did not matter though. All that was important was what existed in their hearts. For with that, no fiend, no force, no thing, could ever hope to claim victory against them.
Author's notes: Well there you have it, the first new work to come from me in a long while. Though this is a one shot, it is also something of a prologue for a new story to come. For further answers to my long absence, look to the new chapter of The No Life Queen, my fans there deserve to know first. Hope you all have enjoyed this, and I look forward to writing more in the months to come.
King of the Wicker People