Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ The Big Break-Up ❯ Chapter 1

This story contains scenes of explicit sex, naughty words, and other horrible, offensive things.  If you are underage in your house, village, town, city, community, state, province, country, or continent: READ NO FURTHER!  If that type of thing offends your tender sensibilities, or you are stupid: READ NO FURTHER!  All characters are the copyright of their respective creators and/or owners; no copyright infringement is intended by this story.  Any resemblance to people, places, or situations alive, dead, or otherwise is purely coincidental.

 

MY STANDARD RANMA 1/2 DISCLAIMER

 

Before I begin this pornographic Ranma 1/2 story, I thought it best that I make a few things clear. I'm doing this now, rather than at the end of the story, for one main reason: The Ranma 1/2 characters and their various relationships seem to arouse a surprising amount of heated debate among people so I don't want there to be any surprises about what's coming. First and most importantly: This is not a `Ranma and Akane get together story' so don't be looking forward to that kind of ending.

 

I have read a few of the translated Ranma 1/2 manga and seen all of the seasons of the TV show, the movies, and the OAVs that have been released. Therefore, I'm well aware that despite their constant squabbling Ranma and Akane love each other and that the only realistic story would have to be with the two of them admitting it in some way. Let me repeat, I know this is true, but I'm not going to do it.

 

The main reason for this discrepancy is that I really dislike almost everything about the Akane character. Granted, she's not the only reason that the relationship between the two of them doesn't work out; Ranma too bears some responsibility. I do feel, however, that she's the main reason. In addition, as I mentioned above, I really don't like her personality, her looks, or almost anything else about her. She's inferior in every respect to all the rest of his fiancées (including Kodachi). Think about it, in cooking, fighting, attractiveness, and personality she's pretty much bringing up the rear. Thus, don't expect much of her in this story.

 

Of the rest of the main female characters I definitely have to say Shampoo is my favorite. She's the best-looking, probably the best fighter and generally the coolest, in my opinion. I like Ukyou, and Kodachi is at least amusing. As for the Tendo sisters, I like Nabiki a lot, she cracks me up, so don't be surprised if she plays a major part in this story.

 

Looking at the male side, the one character that actually surpasses my loathing of Akane is Ryouga. If there is a more despicable, hypocritical, whiny son of a bitch of a character that for some reason some people really like, I have yet to encounter them. Needless to say, you'll be seeing very little of this bastard. Mousse is generally pathetic, Kuno is good for some laughs, the fathers are somewhat annoying and Happosai is pretty funny.

 

Thus, looking at what I've just written above I hope it's clear that what is to follow is going to primarily focus on Ranma and his adventures with a bevy of beautiful babes, among whom you'll definitely not find that bitch Akane. There'll be plenty of m/f and f/f sex in various combinations, but absolutely no m/m. Sorry for those non-traditional male readers out there (or females for whom it's a turn on), but it's not something that attracts me so I'm not going to write about it.

 

I guess that's more than enough prose on those points. On with the porn!

 

 

The Big Break-Up

Chapter 1

The Beginning of July, Tokyo, Japan

 

People's heads flew around sharply, trying to track Ranma Saotome's form as he dashed through the crowd, leaping over groups of people and using convenient walls, rooftops and trees as often if not more than the sidewalk itself. In Nerima this type of travel wouldn't have attracted so much as a second glance, but this wasn't that particular ward of Tokyo and the inhabitants weren't used to the odd antics of various martial artists like their counterparts were. Yet.

 

It was a sight they were getting to see more often in the last few months, however, which was when Ranma had started visiting his mother for various types of training. After the failed wedding, Nodoka Saotome had decided to take a bigger role in her son's upbringing and thus the teenager could now be seen dashing between her house and the Tendo Dojo three or four times a week. Ranma had basically been happy to get to spend more time with his mother, although her manner still tended to unnerve him. But since he had no real memory of her from before his idiot father had dragged him away for training at such a young age, any time he could spend with her was something special for him.

 

The training, on the other hand, was a bit…weird. Some of it Ranma could understand and pick up easily enough. For instance, Nodoka had strongly objected to her husband's insistence on Ranma only training in the basics of weapons handling and instead concentrating on unarmed combat. In her view that was unacceptable as how could he become a man among men if he was unable to even handle his own family's honor sword? Genma had tried to protest his wife's hiring of kendo and other types of weapons masters to train their son, but a sharp glare and a slight hand movement by Nodoka to the katana she always carried was enough to silence him. Ranma was, as always, happy to pick up any more martial arts skills, particularly now that his father barely ever bothered to even try and train him now, too busy scheming with Soun Tendo about how to hitch Ranma and Akane together.

 

Ranma scowled at the thought of the youngest Tendo daughter, barely noticing as he leapt over a major thoroughfare, causing the various pedestrians in the area to gape in shock. The wedding disaster seemed to have caused his already rocky relationship with Akane to take an even sharper plunge into the abyss. Recently the two could barely spend any time at all in one another's presence without a vicious quarrel breaking out. That was yet another reason Ranma was happy to spend as much time as possible at his mother's as it kept him away from the poisonous atmosphere at the Tendo's.

 

So, martial arts training and escape from his complicated, uncomfortable personal problems were two strong causes for the young martial artist to appreciate his mother's help in raising him. Her more…intellectual teaching was a bit beyond the teenager, though. During breaks in his physical practices, at lunchtime and in the afternoon usually now that school was out and he could spend all day at her house, she would give him detailed lectures from various books along with selections for him to read and comment on in future lessons. Books and Ranma, however, were not exactly the best mix. As soon as he saw his mother open her carefully marked lesson plan, the teenager could feel his eyes glazing over and his soul trying to escape his body in the face of the mind-crushing boredom. Crap! Ranma cursed mentally as he cleared a brick wall and started to thread his way through the branches of the trees in a rather large park on the edge of Nerima. Half of those damn books are foreign anyway. Kama Sutra!? Who the hell ever heard of him?!

 

Before the teenager could further bemoan his life, however, something caught his attention. Just before the large open area in the center of the park, there was a smaller clearing that was concealed from view by a thick layer of trees and bushes. Ranma had just come to the edge of this small patch of openness when he saw that other people were in the area as well; seven others to be exact. Six of them were large, muscular men who were busy pummeling the ever-loving shit out of the seventh, much smaller occupant of the clearing. Ranma had an extremely close and personal knowledge of the pain and injury the human body could endure and from what he could see, the little guy in the middle of the scrum was on his last legs.

 

“Hey, knuckleheads!” The six tough guys turned around at Ranma's shouted interruption of their fun, scowling in anger when they saw the slender teenager land in front of them, his hands on his hips. “Why don't you jerks pick on me if you're lookin' for trouble?”

 

One of the thugs reached behind his back to produce a rather large and wickedly hooked knife, a signal for the other five to follow suit and also reveal various weapons. “Look kid,” the first man growled. “Just move it along. This ain't got nuthin' to do with you. This ass-fucker,” here he delivered a powerful boot to the ribs to the man curled up on the ground in their midst, forcing a squeal of pain from him. “Owes us some money and he's gonna pay up. Or else.”

 

“Yeah!” One of the others agreed, also delivering a kick to the battered guy on the ground. “Tryin' to pay us off with cheese, you fuck!” Another kick.

 

“And it's Velveeta, too!” A third member of the gang contributed, also adding his own boot to the conversation. “That ain't even real cheese!!”

 

“Look,” Ranma shrugged assuming a ready stance for battle. “I don't care what that guy did or didn't do. Don't ya think he's had enough? Besides, it's the duty of a martial artist to protect the weak. So you'd better give it up or you'll all be spendin' time in the hospital.”

 

The thugs raised their eyebrows in surprise at this before bursting out in raucous laughter. “You got guts, kid,” The leader finally managed to gasp out between fits of laughter. “I'll give ya that. But you're gonna get hurt if ya tangle with us.” When Ranma didn't move, only smiled in anticipation, the bigger, more muscular man frowned. “If that's the way ya want it, boy. Get `im!!” Like a thundering herd of rampaging rhinoceroses the powerful men pounded toward the teenager standing so arrogantly before them, each of them eager to pound some lessons into him. Moments later all of them were lying on the ground in various states of physical distress, which they luckily couldn't feel in their unconscious states.

 

“Man!” Ranma commented out loud brushing his hands together briskly as he walked toward the beaten man he had just rescued. “Those guys sucked! Even that idiot Kuno's better than them!” He crouched down next to the groaning body of the men's victim. “Hey, buddy? My name's Ranma, Ranma Saotome. You OK? Ya want me to get ya some help or somethin'?”

 

“No, no,” The man's voice was weak, but clear as he struggled to get to his feet, Ranma quickly moving to help him. “I am in acceptable condition, young person.”

 

“Ya sure?” Ranma asked doubtfully. “Ya don't look so good.” He looks damn strange is how he looks! Ranma added to himself mentally. Underneath the layer of dirt coating him, the man's clothing, a pair of black trousers with a lime green t-shirt and a plaid suit coat, were ripped and torn. Also the man's features seemed somehow…wrong. Ranma peered at him closely trying to make out exactly what was the matter with him, but the little guy, not much taller than Happosai, raised his arms in front of his face and stumbled backward. “I can get ya to a hospital no problem if ya want…”

 

“Not to worry, young human!” The man's piping voice sounded stronger, yet he also sounded…scared for some reason. “Medical attention for this physical body is unnecessary completely.” The little man continued to stumble back, nearing the edge of the bushes behind him.

 

“Well…if ya say so, but I still think ya oughtta…”

 

“Yes, quite very sure I am! Due to your timely useful assistance this body in more than good acceptable condition! Good bye, Mr. Ranma Saotome-san!” With that the odd guy pushed his way into the concealing trees, as if desperate to get out of the clearing.

 

I wonder what the hell that was all about?! Ranma rubbed the back of his head in thought for a few moments, then shrugged his shoulders. He had enough things on his plate to deal with without inviting any more trouble. Jumping back up to the treetops he was soon on his way back to Nerima, the incident already forgotten.

 

Meanwhile the little man continued to stumble through the thick bush and trees until he staggered up against a large cherry tree. Once there he patted it almost affectionately before pausing and peering in every direction very carefully. His inspection done and confident that he was alone, he reached inside his ripped, dirty coat to pull out a silver and black…device. What exactly it was was impossible to determine. It was roughly the size of a large egg, but was studded with numerous knobs and dials. The man's fingers flicked among these protuberances with amazing dexterity and then with a whoosh of disturbed air…he was gone!

 

Outer Space, Research and Experimentation Vessel, Klittherup, InEarthOrbit

 

Inside the cloaked observation vessel the battered man we had just been observing far below on Earth reappeared on a slightly raised platform in an apparently empty room. The man seemed to give a sigh of relief before stepping off the small stage and moving in front of a large circular mirror. Once in front of it he reached forward to press a button on the mirror's frame, which caused it to begin spinning and a low, barely audible to the human ear humming noise began issuing forth from within it. The little guy simply stood silently for a few seconds, but soon his body began trembling slightly and in moments his clothes were completely ripped from his body and sucked into the mirror which easily absorbed them! And it wasn't just his oddly-matched clothing that was swept into the spinning disk in front of him, but also his skin, hair, and every other evidence of a human form! When the mirror stopped its revolutions, what was left in front of it looked in no way human. Instead it seemed more like a large mass of Jell-O, the lime version, with chunks and bits of things floating in it.

 

Its human guise removed, the alien made its way out of the room and through the maze of winding corridors that made up the interior of its vessel. The hallways were like tunnels with no recognizable floor or ceiling and the way the creature traveled, oozing with equal ease on any convenient surface, made it obvious why. Minutes later the being stopped in front of a hatch that irised open in front of him, permitting him access to the control room of the spacecraft. Making its way through the various banks or monitors and unidentifiable equipment, the alien finally stopped in front of a much larger alien, this one also basically gelatinous, but a weird mixture of blues and greens and equipped with several tentacles that it was expertly manipulating various machines with. “Commander, I have returned from the planet's surface,” He reported, his voice even more high-pitched than when it was mimicking human speech.

 

“Well, it's about time, for Kruppalla's Sake!” The larger alien returned in an equally high tone of voice, annoyance clear in its tone to the smaller creature.

 

“Sorry, Mother.” The lime-green being seemed to deflate. “But there were some problems, and-”

 

“What in Nogalla's Name happened to you, Zendiff?! You're practically ready to dissipate right in front of me!!” Before the smaller alien could respond, the other's tentacles whipped out to summon various machines that began spraying down Zendiff's form with various liquids and scents in order to fix the damage caused by his encounter with the six thugs. Nearly twenty minutes went by before the commander was satisfied and she turned to her son to ask. “Now tell me exactly what happened to you down there, Zendiff! You truly were near the point of no return!”

 

“Well, mother,” Zendiff replied stiffly. “I'm not exactly sure what the matter was. When I went to the group of humans to pick up the package as you instructed they rejected the payment and-”

 

“Wait a moment,” The large alien interrupted. “What did you bring to pay them with?”

 

“Exactly what you told me to, Mother! That orange stuff.”

 

“I said `gold' not `orange,' Zendiff.”

 

“Gold, orange, they're nearly the same hue. What could possibly be the difference?”

 

“One is considered a valuable metal on Earth. The other is the color of something that is used for the creation of unhealthy, bad tasting foodstuffs.”

 

“Ah, now I appreciate their anger.”

 

“Indeed,” Commander Dall'an regarded her youngest descendant with exasperation. “Well, at least you survived. I suppose I should regard that as a good thing.”

 

“Thank you, Mother. Though, I must admit my continuance was only due to the intervention of one other human who disposed of the furious recipients of my mistaken payment.”

 

The blue-green alien went completely still. “What was that?” She finally asked, her voice barely audible even for the other alien. “Tell me exactly how this occurred.”

 

Zendiff quickly obeyed, giving a short rundown of his predicament and how Ranma intervened to save him. “Thus,” he summed up. “I quickly made my way away from the helpful human before he could summon Earth's medical services, which would surely have revealed our presence to the ever-inquisitive officials of the planet. Then I came here where you, my revered Mother, so swiftly and expertly healed me of my distress. Mother?” Zendiff asked after a short pause on completing his tale, curious at his commander's depressed body posture. “Is something wrong?”

 

“Zendiff, my son. Do you recognize this?” From a slot in a close by pedestal Dall'an produced a hexagonal stack of metallic plates, each one covered with raised and sunken patterns and designs. The material was tarnished with age and both aliens regarded it with tremendous respect.

 

“Of course, Commander,” Zendiff's voice was hushed. “It is the Code of Nogalla.”

 

“Well, I am glad my son at least knows that much.” The internal shapes within Zendiff's began rotating in agitation in reaction to the sarcastic trill in his mother's voice. “Now what, dear offspring, is the Code of Nogalla?”

 

“It is the rule of our conduct, Commander. It shows us all how to live our lives with honor and righteousness.” Zendiff's voice was a bit plaintive, but also somewhat annoyed. The Code, after all, was something all members of their species was taught and memorized from their earliest budding. If he needed to he could recite it line for line, so why was his mother…Suddenly, the smaller alien's body became as still as his mother's had only moments before.

 

“Ah, I see the ooze is beginning to flow for my small one.” One of Dall'an's flexible tentacles expertly flipped through the stack of metal plates until it reached the one she desired. Then she began reciting, “`To the one whom you owe a debt, swift, complete repayment is required as soon as possible. Credit for credit, assistance for assistance, and…'”

 

“`For a debt of existence, double compensation is due to show honor to one's savior.'” Zendiff finished the quotation, his internal organs now congregated at the bottom of his form, a visual signal of his misery. “And I did not even say `thank you'…”

 

“Our honor has been stained by your actions,” Dall'an admonished her son and subordinate. “Or more accurately, by your lack of action. We must track this human down and repay our clan's debt to him. Didn't you say he gave you his name?”

 

“Yes, it was…Ranma, Ranma Saotome, Mother.”

 

“Very well, then. Our course of action is clear: it's time to find this human, this Ranma Saotome.” The two aliens turned to their complex machinery and soon tentacles and pseudopods were sending devices down to Earth's surface in order to locate a single wayward martial artist.