FOREWORD

This story is set in the Ranma universe but in a much lower, fantasy setting. I never liked Akane's magic mallet and Ranma's chi-blasts later in the series never sat well with me. Felt too much like another anime I never want to relive with yellow-spiked hair. However, this should not be considered low-fantasy as in my mind Ranma can still jump to inhuman heights, move with inhuman speed and have inhuman strength. However, I always liked to keep it within the realm of physical exertion and leave the magical out. I think those things are fine for Ranma's enemies, both mundane and fastastical. However, Ranma's ability to overcome even the most magical enemies with only his martial arts always made me smile. That being said. I hope you enjoy.

DESIRE

PROLOGUE

“Ranma you jerk!”

As the cry echoed throughout the Tendo household and everyone took notice of the latest lamentation of the youngest Tendo daughter, nobody was surprised, least of all Saotome Genma. He sat playing a game of Shogi in the dwindling twilight of spring. Across from him at the other head of the Shogi board sat his long time friend, Tendo Soun. As Genma quietly waited for his companion to make a move in the great game of strategy his mind drifted to other things, namely the situation with his only son, Ranma.

The boy was brilliant, at least in all things martial arts. He was strong, he was confident and he was determined. All these things Genma had taught him. Genma was proud of the boy; not that he'd ever tell him, that would undo all the hard work, but nonetheless Genma was. However, even with all those qualities, Ranma also had his flaws; he was a braggart, a loudmouth, and generally uncaring about most everything that was not martial arts, but, and this was the most damning as far as Genma was concerned, Ranma was far too innocent for his own good. Genma blamed himself for the last one. The others he considered to be a fair price and unavoidable if you were going to attain the true formula for a “man-among-men.” The innocence, however, was proving to be devastating to Genma's plans.

“Ranma how could you say such a thing!” Akana fumed towards the pig-tailed martial artist. Her breath was short and ragged and her fists had gone bone-white from the vice-like grip they were currently in. “After all the work I did to get ready!? Do you know how long I've waited for this!?” Akane was standing in the hallway screaming at the top of her lungs, furious at her fiancée Ranma. Akane stood in the hallway, her hair done into a neat and simple, yet flattering style. It was loose and slightly wavy but with a hint of firmness to last through the evening. Her face was covered in make-up in a way not garish, but with subtle hints of compound, blush, eyeliner and lipstick that brought out all her beauty. The dress she wore, a rare occasion in and of itself, was sunflower yellow, shoulder-less and tapered down her body in an accentuating and flattering style that did her figure justice. It came down to her lower thigh and was tasteful with just a hint of sexuality mixed in. Her hands and forearms were covered in long, elegant white silk gloves that only further enhanced her radiance. It would be apparent to anyone that this woman had spent hours preparing herself for this look and yet, upon her face was the unbridled look of rage and anger.

“Woah! Akane, calm down will'ya? I didn't mean nuthin' by it. It was suppose to be a compliment!” Standing opposite of Akane was Soatome Ranma, dressed in a simple cut suit, no tie. The suit was tailored in a modern style with a slightly longer than waist trim that came together across the chest with a single button. It had only the slightest of lapels along its top length. Beneath it was a white starch button-up shirt with a single button left undone at the top show Ranma's well muscled neck and collar bone. Ranma looked sophisticated and handsome and Ranma had paid Nabiki quite a tidy sum for her insights into proper dress attire for this evening.

“A compliment!? How Ranma, could that ever be a compliment? In what world do you live in Ranma? I try, I really do, to put up with you. But sometimes your ignorance defies logic. Sometimes I think you do this on purpose. I love you Ranma. Don't you see that!? This...” Akane gestured to her hours of preparation, “was all for you. Our first real date.” Akane bit hard into the word so that even Ranma would understand the emphasis. “But all you can do is make fun of me.”

Ranma suddenly felt extraordinarily guilty for what he had said, he hadn't intended for her to take it like this. “Akane, I'm sorry, I didn't mean...” Ranma approached Akane to try to comfort her in some way. Ranma looked so unsure of himself, Akane really needed to be comforted, but Ranma was incapable of expressing his affections. “I...” Ranma stuttered as he held out his hand.

Akane was close to tears, her anger had subsided to sorrow and she knew the evening was ruined. “Just, go away...,” she spoke listlessly at first but finding no solace in her sorrow she let herself grow bitter and she hissed the last part in anger that slowly rose to a cacophonous scream, “...you, you pervert! Just leave me alone!”

Ranma, ever defensive, pulled back his outstretched hand and let Akane get the best of him, “Fine! You un-cute tomboy. See if I care! Who would want someone like you anyway?” Not even waiting for her reply, whether that be verbal or physical, Ranma turned on his heels and stormed out of the Tendo household and dissapeared into the night. Akane's look was that of pure anger-driven rage but without Ranma to focus it on she was lost in her own world; Akane thundered down the hall before slamming her door with such force that it splintered the frame.

So lost in their emotions that neither Ranma, nor Akane, had noticed the entire Tendo household had shown up to watch this whole spectacle. Kasumi had shown up to see them off and even Nabiki, camera in hand, had promised only to commemorate the evening, tastefully, as her father had put it. As the Tendo's and one Soatome Genma watched Akane go to her room a startled Kasumi could only ask, “Oh my! What did Ranma say Nabiki?”

The middle Tendo daughter, her patented and uncaring look never broken during the whole spectacle, had already started to carefully put away her camera. Sighing rather deeply she stood up from her chore and spoke, in a mocking tone that everyone could only assume was an impersonation of Ranma, “Wow Akane. Ya' look like a real girl for once!”