Just Like a Dream

Ranma

Ranma got back to the Tendo residence hauling bags of groceries. Kasumi presented him with a cloth wrapped bundle; he tore it open to find his newly embroidered shirt. His mouth went dry at the craftsmanship that the other boy had lovingly invested into the garment. He ran his fingers lightly down the elaborately stitched dragons and tiny horses, unaware of the rapture in his face as he did this. Akane broke his reverie when she said “that’s beautiful, who did it?”

Ranma blushed like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar and said “Mousse, I ripped my shirt and he offered to embroider it for me to mask the tear it in” he explained.

“Since when are you and Mousse friends?” Akane asked.

“It’s a recent thing, listen I should go over to the Nekohanten and thank him personally” Ranma said.

“Sorry Ranma, he went back to China” Kasumi said.

“What, he never told me that he was going there! What did he say?” Ranma demanded, seizing her shoulders

The gentle Kasumi shrank from his vehemence “he said that things were too crazy for him here and he needed to get away” she explained.

“Did he leave a note for me?” Ranma demanded, giving her a shake, causing Kasumi to gasp.

“Release Kasumi right now!” Akane demanded. “What the hell’s wrong with you? One less enemy of yours in Nerima’s a good thing” she pointed out.

Ranma realized what he was doing and let her go “I’m sorry Kasumi” he hastily said and then ran out of the house to the Nekohanten and began frantically ringing the doorbell.

Shampoo answered the door “Oh good, Airen come for date with Shampoo?” she said happily and went to glomp onto Ranma. She gasped in surprise when he shoved her back before she could touch him.

Her eyes went wide with shock as she stared into Ranma’s own stormy blue eyes “where’s Mousse?” he demanded of the surprised girl.

“H-he go back to China, left hours ago. I think he fly as duck” she stammered, wondering the cause of Ranma’s anger.

“What did you do to make him go?” he demanded narrowing his eyes at her.

“Shampoo innocent, not know why Mousse left. He been weird lately, not even act like himself. He not declare love for Shampoo for weeks” she explained.

“You don’t even deserve him” Ranma snarled.

Shampoo’s head swam with confusion “what Airen mean by that?” she asked.

Ranma thrust his face into hers “you will cease to call me that; I’m not married to you and never shall be. You’re nothing to me. Do you understand?” he hissed. Then he shook her “do you understand?” he repeated in a dangerous tone of voice.

Shampoo gulped “yes, I understand” she said, suddenly frightened of him. Seeing her fear, Ranma thrust her away from him in disgust and ran back to the Tendo house. He ran into his room, locked the door and threw himself on his futon, hugging the embroidered shirt to him. He placed his nose against the embroidery; he could just make out the scent of Mousse’s skin and it helped to calm him.

Akane knocked on the door “Ranma, what’s wrong?” she inquired.

“Go away” Ranma yelled back, wondering why his chest felt tight, he wasn’t aware that hot tears were streaming down in his cheeks. He lay back on his futon and looked up at the ceiling, he faltered when he saw a red tasseled knife embedded into it. He leaned up and pulled it out, finding a note attached to the blade. He unrolled it, it read.

Dear Ranma,

I have to get away from here for a while.

I’ve found myself confused about a lot to things lately and need to get my head on straight.

I’ll miss you as I honestly think that you’re the only real friend I’ve ever had.

I wish you every joy in life.

Mu Tzu

Ranma laughed bitterly that is was so impersonal and definite; so many things left unsaid between them. Then he got angry that Mousse would rather leave then deal with him and resolved that he would find him. He knew where his godforsaken flyspeck of a village was! Mousse hadn’t heard the last of Ranma Saotome! ‘But how to get there?’ Ranma wondered; he didn’t have any money. Then he remembered how he got to China the last time, swimming. He wondered if his weaker feminine body could survive the trip and decided to chance it. He packed and went to bed, resolving to leave first thing in the morning.

Mousse

Mousse flew directly to his mother’s house and his tired duck body was mobbed by his sisters, who’d missed him horribly. He returned their enthusiastic hugs with his own feathered limbs and quaked out exclamations about how tall they were getting and how pretty they all looked. This was understood by none of them, but they still were happy to see their brother after a year’s absence. His mother smiled to see her brood all together again. She waited until their excitement at being reunited died down, before she led her modest son into another room and provided him with hot water so that he could transform in privacy.

Mu Tao Lee

Mu Tzu’s mother, Mu Tao Lee was only thirty two years old, despite having four children. In the tradition of the Amazon, her children took her last name. She, herself married young at sixteen years old, Mu Tzu being the reason for this hasty marriage. She didn’t mind this though, she’d always known that she would marry his father and didn’t see the need to wait. People had ridiculed her for having a son, but she hadn’t care, she loved Mu Tzu to distraction. It’d made her sad when he’d gotten involved with and become obsessed with a girl that she thought unworthy of him. She had had to watch him lick his wounds time and time again over her and wished she could help; no mother likes to see her child in pain.

She watched this happy family gathering with the now human Mu Tzu and sensed a sadness in him that she’d never felt before. She suspected that it had nothing to do with Shampoo playing fast and loose with his heart for once and resolved to get to the bottom of it. Throughout the entire visit, he never mentioned Shampoo’s name once.

Mousse

After leaving his mother’s Mousse walked back to his hut, it was large for just one person, but then it had been meant for a family of six when his father built it all those years ago. Mousse had been born in it and drew his first breath on the original futon. The futon there now had been sew by his mother and was large and thickly padded, perhaps in hopes that he would share it with a wife someday. Contrary to popular belief, their tribe wasn’t as primitive as it appeared. The outside looked like a regular hut for tourists, but the inside held a modern kitchen, running water and electricity that was generate by a local wind farm. Mousse even had an outdoor shower with a thick enclosure as his curse made a trip to the public onsen a nuisance for when he didn’t feel like boiling water.

His mother had provided him with a basket of fresh meat and vegetables to tide him over until she could deliver a larger load by cart. Mousse pushed open the door and glanced around, it wasn’t much, but it was home. The appliances were ancient but still worked and the place was dusty and needed a good cleaning. He pulled on some of his old clothes, noting that he would have to make some more soon as he’d almost outgrown them and scrubbed, dusted and swept every inch of the place. Anything to keep his mind off Ranma; he felt that he’d betrayed him and decided to send him a proper letter explaining his actions. Finally, after a simple meal, he fell asleep.


Mousse and Ranma had been making love all night long and were too sore to even attempt penetration anymore, six spent condoms and wrappers in the garbage pail beside the bed attested to this. Yet, Ranma still craved more. Mousse cradled her full bottom in his hands, lifting her hips towards his mouth. She still moaned and arched her hips as he ate her out thoroughly, leaving no part of her hypersensitive pussy untouched. She reveled in his dancing, talented tongue, wanting him to go as deeply as possible. Mousse smiled against her lips and began lashing her clit with all his might, until she came with a scream, bedewing his tongue with the delicate essence that was wholly Ranma. Mousse lapped up each last drop of her precious honey and lowered her back onto the bed. She cuddled against him, practically purring with contentment. “Umm, I should take a shower” she said.

“Would you like me to scrub your back?” he offered.

“Don’t you start that again” she said with a giggle and went to shower. Mousse went downstairs to start breakfast, he admired Ranma’s curvy figure draped only in a towel when she joined him. Water droplets still clung to her shoulders and her hair fell loose in damp waves. Then he realized what was strange about the situation; Ranma was still a woman. “Are we out of hot water?” he asked in confusion.

“Nope, I had a long hot shower. I just didn’t change back” she explained nonchalantly.

“That’s strange” Mousse said as he flipped the eggs “the only reasons for that, according to our research, are when you’re doused by Herb’s magic ladle or when you’re preg...” Mousse said and dropped the spatula. “Ranma how? We’ve been using protection” he exclaimed.

“Except when the last condom broke” she said almost conversationally. “If you don’t believe in having children out of wedlock, I suggest that we better get marry right away” she suggested.

“But what about waiting?” stammered Mousse.

“Talk to the condom about that” Ranma said in amusement.

“You’re taking this awful well, what about your future as a martial artist?” Mousse asked.

“That’ll still be there nine months from now. I’m actually happy about the situation, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Of course I am. I’ll marry you right away if you want” Mousse assured her, then made a face “your father’s going to kill me” he stated.

She laughed in good humour “no kidding, you’ve made me the least manly guy on the planet” she said with a giggle.

Ranma

Ranma started laughing when he woke up; children now! Whoever was controlling the dreams was doing a very thorough job. He went to call Mousse, and then realized that he couldn’t. He was in China! He wondered if they even had phones where Mousse was. Ranma left a note saying that he was going to China to see if the spring of the drowned man was back in business. It wasn’t exactly a lie; he did intend to swing by there to check after he talked with Mousse. Then he silently let himself out of the Tendo house before anyone could stop him.

Ranma stood on the bank of the Sea of Japan just as the sun was rising; he took a cleansing breath and executed a perfect dive into its churning depth. He was a girl before she even fully hit the water. Ranma swam as hard as she could everyday, sometimes resting on unexpected islands, where she would fall into a dreamless sleep each time. This would make her sad because at least when she had the dreams, she had that connection to Mousse. Their separation was causing her more pain then she would admit. Sometimes while swimming towards a destination that she was starting to think that she would never reach, she would question why she was doing this. She used the memory of their only dinner alone together to spur her on, how they sat opposite each other at the table. How the soft light made Mousse’s eyes sparkle and how they would soften as he laughed. It had felt natural to be there with him. How their hands would brush as they passed dishes of Mousse’s delicious food between them, yet they did nothing to prevent them from brushing. They would just blush when this happened. How Mousse’s accented voice sounded when he spoke. At the end of the evening Ranma would have died to hug him and kiss that sweet mouth again, he knew that it would have tasted of the oranges that they had had for desert, but had to settle for clasping Mousse’s soft calloused hand. His parting smile had been so tender.

Mousse

Two male Amazons were fishing when they spotted the waterlogged, half dead girl. The first one exclaimed in Mandarin and ran into the waves to carry her to shore. As he carried her from the sea’s embrace, she opened electric blue eyes and she softly moaned “Mousse” and then passed out again.

“What did she say?” he asked his friend.

“I think she was asking for Mu Tzu; it’s hard to tell with her accent. I say we bring her to him and if he knows her, then she becomes that idiots problem” Ra Xar suggested.

“Good plan” agreed his friend and he helped Ra Xar carry Ranma to Mousse’s hut.

Mousse had decided to prepare dinner ahead of time so that he could help his mother plant trees that day. He’d just finished preparing spicy beef in pepper jack sauce, when there was a knock at the door. He opened it to find Ra Xar holding a soaked redhead in his arms. Mousse was just about to ask what was going on when Ranma’s face rolled back so he could see it better. “Ranma!” he exclaimed in shock.

“Ah you know her” Ra Xar said in triumph; Mousse intensely disliked Ra Xar.

Mousse’s arms reached forward of their accord to take the petit girl from the disagreeable person before him. Ranma cuddled into him “Mousse!” she cried happily, but didn’t awake.

Mousse blushed when Ra Xar smirked at him and said “what did YOU do in Japan? And here I thought that you didn’t have eyes for anyone but your precious Shampoo?” he said facetiously.

Mousse answered him by closing the door in his inquisitive face, after he coldly thanked him. Mousse had no doubt that news of the mysterious female would spread throughout the village within the hour.

He paused when the window to the soul effect occurred again. He saw Ranma being taken from his mother as a baby, he saw him being bartered for anything that caught his irresponsible father’s fancy. Ranma being forced to make adult decisions when he was barely old enough to talk. His father taunting him about anything that he considered to be girlish, from his taste in food to simply admiring a pretty flower when he was five. His father had ripped it apart in front of him while daring him to cry. Being forced to train every day of his life, meeting friends only to have to leave them behind. He saw that boy grow up stronger every day and more emotionally damaged. He hungered for so many things that should have been his right, love and acceptance from his parents, a stable home and simple friendship. That is what had created Ranma.

Ranma whimpered in his arms as she was assaulted with Mousse’s memories. She saw a pretty young boy smiling at a purple haired young girl and falling in love with her. She saw that same little boy sitting on his father’s knee as his father guided his tiny hands as he did an intricate embroidery design. She watched as his dark-haired parents exchanged a look of love and felt happy and safe. Then she saw him standing before his father’s grave later that year, struggling not to cry as he didn’t want to make his younger sisters feel worse; the youngest was only a few months old. She saw him being flogged and cried out in pain on his behalf. The scene changed as he grew up, she felt his despair when the optometrist his mother had saved up the money for, told him that he would most likely be blind by the time he was twenty. Then he was given the cheap, round glasses which were all that his mother could afford. She saw Mousse being ridiculed as a skinny bespectacled child, until he began train until his fingers bled and his muscles shook with fatigue by the end of each day. Him developing a muscular body and gaining in height, he wore his hair long to honour his father, yet still being mocked by all who knew him, including the girl he loved. Then she saw the male Ranma taunting him, belittling his training, mocking his style and lording the one thing that Mousse wanted, Shampoo, over him just because he could, even though Ranma knew that he never wanted her in his heart of hearts. Ranma started weeping from shame.


Mousse noticed her start to cry and held her close until she stopped, despite her being wet. He gathered his towels and placed them onto his futon and put her on top of them. Knowing how immodest Ranma was, he carefully undressed her and bathed her with tepid water, wanting to keep her as a girl for a little longer. He unbraided her hair and let it hang loose to dry and then wrapped his softest sleeping robe around her, smiling at how huge it was on her. He tucked her into his bed, letting her sleep.

He then set up his travel bedroll, Ranma may not have been a real girl, but there was no way that he was going to sleep beside a virgin girl without her permission, even if it was his place and his bed. Then he put on the tea and waited, knowing his family would be there immediately once news of a strange girl staying with Mousse reached them. His mother was hot for the idea of him being with anyone besides Shampoo; she should be over at any second with visions of grandchildren dancing in her head.