I Enjoy Being a Girl!

Part Three

The hostility levels in the dining room were palatable and oppressive. Three men sat around the table, each with arms and legs crossed, each with eyes shut so that they would not have to look at the others. On the porch, the wind chime tinkled gently as the morning breeze caught it, and the fresh scent of the koi pond and flowers drifted into the room to swirl gently around the three. They remained oblivious.

The youngest was beginning to wonder if sticking around had been such a good idea after all. Ryoga lowered his head as he gave uncharacteristic contemplation to the entire uncomfortable situation. He seriously longed for a nice home cooked meal after having spent so many weeks on the road, but would staying for breakfast only encourage Ranma’s unhealthy interest in him? It made the Lost Boy squirm inwardly just to think about it. After the koi-rod incident had been dealt with, Ryoga had hoped to never have to confront these sorts of feelings ever again, but they were sneaking in on him regardless.

Disgustingly enough, some small part of him was attracted to Ranma-chan.

Ryoga somehow managed to resist the urge to slam his head against the table in front of him. He’d been attracted to Ranma in the midst of the koi-rod nonsense, and he was finding himself feeling the same way now. But he tried to tell himself that this was probably only natural, right? After all, one of Ryoga’s first observations concerning Ranma’s cursed form was how cute it was. It was a girl, it was soft and appealing, and Ryoga wasn’t exposed to such things nearly often enough for his own satisfaction. He was a normal teenage guy, for Kami’s sake, and he found just about every other girl he knew attractive in some way . . . Akane-san, Ukyo, Akari-chan, Akane-san, Akane-san . . . so why did it shock him so much that he would feel the same about Ranma-chan?

Ryoga grimaced as that question was easily answered. It probably had more than a little something to do with the fact that Ranma-chan was actually -Ranma- . . .

Curiously, it never occurred to Ryoga, not even once, that this would be the perfect opportunity to make some moves on Akane . . .

"YOU!!"

Ryoga nearly jumped straight through the roof in start. He snapped his eyes open to find Genma Saotome half on his feet and leveling an accusing finger in his direction, the murderous gleam in his eyes clearly visible even from behind his spectacles. Ryoga stiffened defensively, getting into a crouch of his own, though rather wildly wondering what the Saotome heir was ranting about. Genma had never seemed like a very stable person to the Lost Boy, and the crazed glint that he was giving Ryoga now only rather reinforced that notion.

Soun Tendo peeked an eye open to see what was going on, but stayed otherwise still.

"Me, what, old man?" Ryoga snapped back.

"You! Somehow you’re responsible for all this, aren’t you boy?" Genma ranted angrily. "Ranma hit his head and was probably just starting to come back to his senses, and then -you- showed up! And now my poor son thinks he’s a girl again!" The large man took a moment to wail in despair, tears rolling excessively down his squared cheeks, as he tightened his hand into a fist and brought it to his chest, obviously beseeching whatever gods that might be listening to intervene on behalf of poor deluded Ranma.

"Oh please," Ryoga snorted in disgust, crossing his arms and settling himself back into a seated position. "I had nothing to do with it. You’re not even making sense, old man."

"Nothing to do with it, eh?" Genma glared at him again, this time with a bit of suspicious speculation. "Sure sure. Deny it all you like, but I’ve always wondered about you, boy, always thought you were kinda -funny- . . . "

Ryoga’s eyes flew open once again and his volatile temper flared to life, building into an immediate visible battle aura around him. He slammed his hands down onto the table and pushed himself up. "WHAT?!" he snarled ferally, supremely pissed beyond belief. "You care to repeat that, you bastard?"

Genma matched his movements, leaning over the table to growl right back, his own aura flickering around him. "I’d be glad to, boy! You’re not right, you hear me! Yer a pansy if I ever saw one!"

"PANSY?!" Ryoga shrieked, rattling the entire room, causing Soun to open his other eye and glance around worriedly, concerned about the structural integrity of the house. The Lost Boy reached across and grabbed Genma by the lapels of his gi, yanking him forward roughly until the two were only inches apart. "How dare you?!" he hissed, fangs bared plainly in threat. "I’ll rip you to shreds, old man! Then you’ll see just how much of a -pansy- I am!!"

"Oh ho ho!" Genma cackled. "Methinks the boy doth protest too much! Go ahead and try it! You’re long over due for a good thrashing, if you want my opinion," the Saotome patriarch challenged back heatedly, knocking the young man’s hands away with a sharp flick of his own. Ryoga drew back a bit, his wrists stinging, but his expression of sheer rage did not change in the least. If anything, it intensified. The rat bastard! How -dare- he even make such a suggestion?! With a fairly inarticulate bellow of rage, the Lost Boy drew back his fist in preparation to slam it as hard as he could into Genma Saotome’s annoyingly smirking face.

Curiously enough, all it took was the slight clearing of a female throat to bring the escalating confrontation to a screeching halt. Poised in the midst of hitting and about-to-be-hit, Ryoga and Genma simultaneously looked to find Ranma-chan standing in the doorway to the kitchen, gazing at them pointedly while balancing three fully-loaded trays of food, one in each hand and the last tipping precariously around on her head. The expression on her face was one of fond admonishment.

"Tsk tsk, Otosan," she chastised, stepping further into the room. "Remember your blood pressure. Getting all worked up like that isn’t good for you. Now, leave Ryoga alone and sit down, please, so that I can serve you breakfast. You too, Ryoga-san."

Both Genma and Ryoga fell back into sitting positions abruptly, glowering with hot annoyance at the joint discovery that they were so over-conditioned to the sound of a woman’s order that they would abandon a perfectly good fight in response. Even in the midst of his outrage, however, Ryoga took a disgusted moment to contemplate the phenomenon. Though he was well aware that most would have referred to it as "pussy-whipped", he much preferred to think of it as basic politeness and honor. True gentlemen did not participate in dirty brawls when there were delicate ladies in the vicinity.

Yeah right. Since when was Ranma a delicate lady? Ryoga shook his head hard, hoping to jangle that troubling thought right out of his head. Suddenly, the wandering martial artist had a keen longing for the open countryside . . . he was never faced with these types of confusing and disturbing dilemmas, this type of heavy thinking, when he was alone. For the first time ever, Ryoga thanked Kami for creating the Hibikis perpetually directionally challenged . . .

When Ryoga looked up again, it was to discover that Genma was still glaring daggers at him, so the Lost Boy gladly reciprocated with a few optical umbrellas of his own.

"She’s right, Saotome-kun," Soun broke in, his tone a sensible and calming one. Also evident was his relief that the house would remain standing for at least another hour or two. "One shouldn’t fight before breakfast. It’s not good for the body or the spirit."

Ranma smiled brightly, pleased to see that distasteful violence had been averted for the moment, and stepped over to place the first tray in front of her father. Genma tore his glare away from Ryoga to ogle at the vast variety of goodies laid out before him. Eggs, soup, crepes, fruits, delicious little squids . . . it was a veritable treasure trove of wonderful, colorful foodstuffs. A huge salivating grin formed on his face, and his eyes widened greedily.

Ranma bent down and gave Genma’s cheek a pecking kiss. "Enjoy your breakfast, Otosan," she said brightly. "And when you’re done, I’ll give you a nice back rub to help you digest."

At this, Genma Saotome laughed heartily and dove into his food with happy grunting abandon, barely pausing long enough to utter the normal before-meal civility. Obviously, he had swiftly re-evaluated his stance on the whole Ranma-Thinks-He’s-A-Girl Issue, while at the same time Ryoga dropped his own estimation of the large man from "Not Stable" all the way down to "Outright Disgusting." The man had absolutely no honor whatsoever, and was constantly thinking of his own comfort and happiness. Ryoga could not abide that type of sloth.

By this time, Ranma-chan had served Soun, gifting him with a sweet little kiss on the cheek as well, promising an additional back rub for her "Dear Uncle Tendo-san." Ryoga squirmed uncomfortably as the lithe little red head came around to his side of the table, fidgeting with his fingers obsessively and doing his absolute best to keep his cool. He was a guest here, after all, he had to behave. But if she tried to kiss him too, Ryoga had the feeling that he was going to be paying off major structural damage to the Tendos for a very long time.

Ranma leaned down beside Ryoga, deftly sliding the last tray off her head and placing it neatly on the table in front of the Lost Boy. Not a bit of food had shifted or spilt, everything looked and smelled heavenly, and just from quickly eyeballing the three trays, Ryoga could tell that his contained a smidgen more food then those presented to Genma and Soun. However, he stayed firmly locked in place as Ranma’s small body brushed close to his, as her freshly scrubbed scent drifted past his nose, momentarily masking the smell of the food. The Lost Boy fairly vibrated as he fought to hold himself in check, knowing that he would simply explode if he allowed himself to move even in the slightest.

Exactly what form that explosion might take, Ryoga couldn’t even hazard to guess.

As Ranma leaned past him, Ryoga felt a puff of air against his ear, and her softly whispered words slipped silkily into his hearing. "I would have served you first, Ryoga-san," she purred. "But you understand, ne? I have to honor my father and the head of the household, but . . . " her voice shifted just a bit as she began to straighten once again, and her breath tickled in the short hairs at the back of his neck. "Once we’re married, you’ll be first every time . . . "

Pausing as they shoveled food into themselves, Genma and Soun looked up wonderingly when Ryoga began to sputter incoherently, turning a very unappealing shade of red. Nothing seemed to be amiss, and Ranma-chan was already on her way out of the room with a mischievous smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes. Deciding that perhaps the young man had simply swallowed something down the wrong way, the two patriarchs shrugged in unison and returned to their food, unconcerned.

It took Ryoga some time and several cups of hastily poured hot tea to calm himself down, but even then the impossible word continued to roll around in his head, quite literally gumming up the internal gears of his mind. MARRIED?! Married?! Was she crazy? What was she thinking?! Had she even listened when he told her that he wasn’t interested in the kitchen earlier? Great Kami-sama, had Ranma lost her senses completely?! There was no way that Ryoga would ever, could ever, marry his oldest rival, even if he -was- a girl, which he -wasn’t-! The very thought was sick, laughable, disgusting, silly, and any number of other words that Ryoga was able to muster up out of his dazed mind, most of which were unrepeatable in mixed company.

After his mental tirade wound itself down, the Lost Boy sighed heavily and took up his chopsticks, leaning his chin against his other hand as he sampled his food, not wanting it to go to waste even though he was now feeling distinctly queasy and definitely unsettled. He had to do something, take some action. This entire situation was just getting worse and worse, and he had a feeling that it would continue to do so until something snapped and everything came to a head. Maybe he would get lucky and be lost by the time that happened, but basing his assumptions off how his luck usually ran, Ryoga pretty much doubted it. Something told him that he was going to have to see this one through to the bitter end.

But on the bright side, at least Ranma -hadn’t- tried to kiss him . . .

And, surprisingly enough, the scrambled eggs weren’t half bad . . .

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