Disclaimer: All characters portrayed in this story are owned Rumiko
Takahashi and co.
This story takes place after volume 38 of the Ranma manga and also draws
ideas from the anime.
This is a part of the one hour challenge FFIRC fic.
Ignorance is Bliss
By
Donny Cheng
"Kasumi?" Ranma asked.
"Yes, Ranma?" Kasumi turned and noticed the pigtailed martial
artist with his head down and thumbs twiddling together. *Oh, I hope he
didn't break another one of my cups.*
"I need your advice."
"My advice, Ranma? What could I possibly help you on?" Kasumi
was slightly taken aback by this request. Ranma didn't usually go to
her at all when he needed help.
"Well, it's kind of embarrassing and you're the only person I can
trust that won't laugh."
"Can't you get your father or your moth..."
"Wait! Don't even say it!" Ranma raced to Kasumi, his hands
covering her mouth. She stared back slightly wide eyed at him. He
thanked the gods that Kasumi's reaction to his assault was not as loud
as a certain sister would have been.
When Kasumi had relaxed again, Ranma carefully took his hands away
from her mouth. "I can't tell my mom. I tried telling her before, but
she nearly pulled her sword on me."
"Oh, my! I thought she considers you manly now that you two have
reunited with one another."
"She does, but she just got so defensive all of a sudden when I
told her I wanted to cut something off."
"Cut something off?" Kasumi asked, her brows furrowing as she
tried to think of what this conversation was leading to.
"Yeah. Um... well, you see, I've been getting this weird problem
lately. Well not lately. I've had this problem for some time now. I
think the reason mom got mad at me was because she still thinks that a
man needs to have everything to be fully manly. Honestly, just because
I want to get something cut a little shorter, she acts like I'm the
killer of the Saotome line. I mean, Pop's got to be more guilty than me
with how he acts...."
"Ranma, you're babbling. What did you want to get cut short?
Your hair?" *No, that wouldn't cause much trouble. Most boys wear
short hair these days.* "Your finger nails? Believe me, boys do it
themselves all the time. It's nothing your mother should be ashamed of.
And you do need a trim."
"No, that was a few weeks ago. She cut them for me. I don't know
how she could see me cutting my finger nails as 'getting a manicure' and
her cutting them not a manicure. The problem is this."
Midway through listening in on Ranma's problem, Kasumi dropped the
cup she was holding. Somehow, the words 'oh, my' did not come this
time.
* * * * *
It was really embarrassing. He could still remember the group of
guys his father hung out with on one of their many stops during the
training trip. Pop had taken him to a bar where girls took their shirts
off to get money. It was the first time he learned that looking at
naked women felt nice. His face then turned dark as he remembered what
happened after.
He blushed with anger and embarrassment as the laughter, the
joking, and the pointing surfaced. It wasn't his fault! His pop even
said so when he later asked about it. It was caused by rushing of blood
like blushing and would go away with time was how his father had
described it. Ranma got the feeling that it meant something special,
but his pop told him that such matters would just confuse him. His
favorite saying was 'just walk it off'.
* * * * *
Kasumi placed her hands on the countertop to stop them from
trembling. "I, uh, see. And you're now finding that walking it off,
doesn't work anymore?"
"It still works, just takes a long time. I have to try thinking
of something else. But lately, with the wedding thing, and both Ukyo
and Shampoo trying harder by wearing skimpier outfits, it's been making
it worse. Every time I think of Akane in that dress, it never fails."
"Don't you think cutting it off would be a little drastic?"
"Well, I didn't want to ask people about this, but I did manage to
listen in on some conversation and it's supposed to be useless. It
wouldn't affect my martial arts. Just like getting my tonsils removed."
"What? Who would say such a thing?" *It's one of the most
important things a man has.*
"I don't know them. I think they're part of a group called
femanast or was it woman lab, lib, or something like that. They were
ranting loud at the cafeteria."
"Still, have you tried other methods to relieve... uh I mean
overcome your problem?"
"Yeah, I asked Pop again. He gave me a weird look and tried to
run away, but I got an answer out of him. He said it was just like any
muscle. Rub it if it was sore."
"And did it work?"
"It takes longer than just walking it off."
"Couldn't have taken that long." *Five minutes, tops.*
"It usually takes a couple of hours."
"..."
"Kasumi? Hello?"
"Oh, sorry, Ranma. A thought just occurred to me."
"Oh, thinking about food? You have a little drool at the side of
your mouth. It is almost dinner time, I guess."
Kasumi quickly brought a hand up to her mouth and wiped the sticky
liquid off. *Whew, is it getting hot in here,* Kasumi thought as she
fanned herself with her hand. "Is that what the sound coming from your
room is?"
"Yeah. I tell everyone it's just training. I just know everyone
will laugh at me if they knew the truth. It wouldn't be so bad if I
didn't make a mess of myself when it does get soft."
"It can't be that bad. I clean your room every day and I don't
notice any messes." *Though, now I know why Ranma sprays so much air
freshener in his room. The room smells like a pine forest.*
"I usually bring a bowl from the kitchen. And if it gets all over
the place, not that hard to wipe it off."
*I knew I was missing a bowl. Wait a minute. That can't be
right. That bowl fills three liters.*
"It's bigger than I need...."
*I knew it....*
"...I only fill about a liter at most every night, maybe two."
"Uh...," Kasumi tried to say, but found her mouth very dry. How
long had her mouth been open.
"So, Kasumi, what do you think?"
"Ranma, have you considered, maybe, that your technique is bad? A
massage isn't just rubbing. I mean, I have given my father a rubdown at
nights in the living room as you've seen sometimes. I think, maybe, I
could help you out."
* * * * *
The End. (maybe)
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