Ranma ½ and Maison Ikkoku are both property of Rumiko Takahashi, and 
several publishing companies as well.

Books 1 and 2 can be found at:
Home.talkcity.com/TheSanitarium/da_muck/
Sofaspud.Org, and
Fanfiction.net

Comments and criticism welcome, E-mail me at starrngr@aol.com; 
Pointless flames will be ignored.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tales of the Wanderer: Book Three: “Nerima Wandering”
Chapter 1: “Of Pineapples and Parasols”

	Muck and FRED emerged from the white disk of the portal, which 
collapsed behind them in a fraction of a second, and relaxed.  FRED had 
done a superb job this time, as they found themselves on a forested 
back road with no traffic.  This allowed Muck to take over, slowing to 
a stop while FRED concentrated on the other sensor readings that would 
allow Muck to determine if this stop was finally the right one.  Or 
would have, if that kid hadn’t bolted out of the trees right in front 
of them.

	Ryouga Hibiki was, as usual, lost.  He’d cut through a grove of 
trees, intending to cut off one Ranma Satome just before the latter 
reached the grounds of Furinkan High.  However, even he knew something 
was wrong when it took over a day, which meant that once again he was 
totally lost.  And that it was Ranma’s fault.  A flash of light nearby 
and ahead of him gave him some hope, though.  That might have been 
sunlight off of a window, which would mean a street, and getting out of 
these trees.  Dashing forward, the trees parted and there was the road… 
and a very large, very black car bearing down on him!

Ryouga, meet FRED.  Oh, I see you two have already met… By accident.  
The lost boy went flying; slamming into a tree as Muck brought the now 
skidding FRED to a complete stop.  Cursing wildly in three languages, 
two of which didn’t even exist in this particular Fica, Muck ran to 
where Ryouga had come to rest, first aid kit in hand.  He’d slammed on 
the brakes as soon as he’d seen the kid, sure, but they’d still been 
moving a good 40 mph when he’d hit the kid!  That meant broken bones, 
probable internal injuries, and a whole lot of official attention 
without a cover identity.  He knelt beside the still figure, which 
groaned once before Muck’s head exploded in pain.

	Ryouga sat up, trying to get his bearings.  Muck; meet Ryouga… 
forehead to forehead. The force of the impact sent Muck toppling 
backwards to land on his rump. Aspirin, anyone?

	“You ok, Kid?” Muck growled as he rubbed the point of impact.

	Ryouga just looked at this new arrival in confusion.  Either he 
had ran into a gajin tourist or he’d managed to make his way all the 
way to America, even though he was certain that he hadn’t crossed any 
major bodies of water.  Either way, this could only be Ranma’s fault, 
and he so informed the world at large.

	Muck sighed as this sunk in, and switched to Japanese.  “Are you 
Ok, kid?”

	Ryouga brought himself to his feet at that and bowed.  “I am most 
sorry, honored sir.  I should have been more careful.”  He still didn’t 
have a clue as to where he was; the fact that this gajin spoke Japanese 
meant things were not as bad as it seemed a moment ago.  “I was lost, 
and thought this was the way out.”

	“You’re not hurt?  You hit pretty hard.”

	“Of course not.  It was nothing compared to my training for the 
Breaking Point Technique.”

	Muck gave the youngster a stern look, but shrugged.  “If you say 
so, kid.  That’s what your doing up here in the mountains then?  More 
training?”

	“Then this isn’t Nerima?” Ryouga asked with a sigh.

	Muck pulled what appeared to be a phone from his pocket and pushed 
a couple of buttons.  “Nerima, as in a ward of Tokyo, kid?”

	“Yes.”

	“Not unless it’s suddenly moved 150 kilometers.  According to my 
GPS here, we’re on the North-eastern slopes of Mt. Fuji.”

	“Thank you.  I must be going, then.”

	“Slow down, kid.  That’s west, not east.  Tell you what, why don’t 
you let me give you a ride.  It’ll save you some walking, and allow me 
to make amends for running into you.”

	Ryouga blushed, but accepted the offer, and helped Muck to his 
feet before walking over to the large black vehicle.  He started to 
walk around it to get in when Muck stopped him.

	“Got a driver’s license, kid?”

	“No, Sir.”

	“Then you might wanna get in on this side.  FRED here is American 
drive.”

	“Oh.”  Ryouga blushed, but climbed in the indicated door as Muck 
crossed around to the side with the controls.  Ryouga shrugged off his 
pack and hefted it into the rear seat, provoking a groan from the seat 
springs and a look from Muck.  He shrugged, then turned his attention 
to the car itself.  From the outside, it had looked rather remarkable; 
he’d only seen an example of one once on the TV, on a show about the 
new vehicle that had replaced the US Army’s venerable Jeep.  Inside, it 
was completely different, with the space behind both seats filled with 
storage boxes, and an initially featureless black panel for a dashboard 
that sprang to life once Muck turned the key.  The center console 
between them was a mass of buttons, which lit up once the car was on.

	“FRED here is one of a kind,” Muck supplied, seeing what Ryouga 
examining the dash.  “Body by GM, controls by MT.”

	“MT?”

	“Micheal Thunders.  That’s me, by the way.  Nice to meet you.”

	“Oh.  Ryouga Hibiki, Thunders-sama.”

	 Muck sighed, as if expecting it, then shook his head slightly 
before moving out.  “Nice to meet you, Hibiki-san.”

		*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	The life of a martial artist is filled with danger.  The life of a 
WANDERING martial artist is filled with even more.  Add in the worst 
sense of direction ever, and a curse that turns you into a pig-- Well, 
I’m certain that you get the idea that Ryouga Hibiki was no stranger to 
danger.  None of that, however, prepared him for the 90 minutes of 
sheer terror he felt riding with Micheal Thunders.  The first twenty or 
so weren’t too bad, as they made their way down the slopes of MT. Fuji; 
nor was it once they found the expressway.  It was the period where 
they were on little two-lane roads, with traffic whizzing by in the 
opposite direction that had set Ryouga’s hair on end.  He knew he was 
incredibly strong, and tough; the fact that he could fight Ranma to a 
standstill proved that.  Thunders-sama was actually a very good driver, 
able to handle his extremely large American vehicle safely even though 
he sat on what was normally the passenger side.  Somehow, though, it 
wasn't enough to reassure him when a ten-ton truck thundered past mere 
inches away.

	Because of this, both human passengers breathed a mental sigh of 
relief as Thunders-sama (Call me ‘Muck’, please,) as Highway 8 merged 
with the streets of the Nerima ward of Tokyo.  Muck was about to ask 
Ryouga for directions, even though he KNEW what was going to happen, 
when the point was solved for him.  He slammed on the brakes as a black 
haired martial artist in red and black bounded across the street in 
front of him.  Chasing Ranma Satome were all the usual suspects; in 
order, Akane, still in her school jumper, Shampoo, Ukyou, Kodachi Kuno, 
Mouse, and Tatawaki Kuno.  Ryouga, seeing this, instantly leapt from 
the car and joined the tail end of the chase, bellowing at the top of 
his lungs about Ranma making Akane chase him.

	No sooner than the last of the procession had disappeared from 
view, final proof that this was all too common here manifested itself 
as traffic started moving again as if this had been nothing more than a 
simple red light!  Muck was a second late moving with the traffic 
because he was still in shock at seeing the Nerima wrecking crew live 
and in person, so to speak; this prompted a blare of angry horns behind 
him urging him to move along.  Instead, Muck turned into the driveway 
of a convenient McDonalds and parked, then started bouncing his head 
off the steering wheel.

	“Um, Muck?”

	“No need, FRED.  I know exactly where we are.  Smack dab in the 
middle of the Ranmaverse, and almost on top of ground zero at that.  
How soon can we blow this popsicle stand?”

	“That was what I was about to tell you.  This fica is still in a 
state of flux; I can’t get solid readings to plot a new jump until it 
settles.”

	“Oh joy.  We need to find someplace to hole up, then.  Any ideas 
about what’s causing it and how long for things to settle?”

	“Actually, I believe I know what’s causing the flux.  How long?  I 
dunno… How good are you at matchmaking?”

	“WHAT?!?!?  What does that have to do with anything?”

	“I got a good read on that little parade just now.  They’re 
definitely the cause of the flux.  Add in what I know from those manga 
you scanned in last Fica, and I’m certain that the only way to get this 
fica to settle enough for us to get out of here is for Ranma to finally 
settle this whole marriage thing once and for all.”

	“No.  Not only no, but bleep no.  There is no way that I’m getting 
involved in that mess.  What do you think I am, some sort of self 
insert character?”

	“Well, we are from another fica, and we did get here by our own 
actions…”

	“That was about as funny as a rubber crutch, FRED.”

	“I was being serious.”

	Muck was quiet for a long moment, then sighed.  “I still don’t 
like this, FRED.  But if you’re right and I’m gonna be stuck in the 
central role of what feels to me like a particularly bad piece of fan-
fiction, we’d best see about getting ourselves established around here.  
And FRED?”

	“Yes?”

	“You can stop playing music track of ‘The Impossible Dream’ now.”

		*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	Muck leaned back and stretched before returning his attention to 
the web page in front of him.  He’d guessed right, because the Nerima 
Public Library did, in fact, have public access to this fica’s version 
of the Internet.  And the study carrels the computers were in allowed 
him to surreptitiously connect the data-link from FRED’s remote into 
the back.  So, while he appeared to be browsing some random web pages, 
FRED was hacking through the back alleys of the ‘net, quietly creating 
the needed entries to establish them as legal residents.  Muck had 
wisely included a number of jewels in the things he carried from fica 
to fica, so getting cash was a simple matter of finding a jeweler and 
selling a couple.  The ongoing cost of life in this city would put a 
strain on that, though, so a job was an imperative; that meant getting 
into the right computers to forge the documents he’d have had if he’d 
come to Japan in the normal way.  Even with FRED doing the real work, 
it was still taking forever, though.  It looked like Muck was probably 
going to have to find a Hotel for tonight and find a room in the 
morning.  He scanned the links at the bottom of the web page, before 
deciding on one called ‘Tales of the Wanderer’.  As the page came up on 
the screen, he felt his jaw drop.  Only the hastily remembered fact 
that he was in a library kept a shout of shock from his lips as he took 
in the page.

	It was a piece of fan-fiction, set in the Sailor Moon universe, 
but he was apparently the star.  A pair of drawings adorned the top of 
the page, of him in both his human and Star Ranger forms.  Below it was 
an encapsulated version of his life, as well.  He clicked on the link 
to the story itself, and his shock grew as he read the opening 
paragraph… one that accurately described what had happened on that 
fateful day now two years in the past.  A shiver ran down his spine at 
that, and he tore his thoughts away from that amazing document.  
Instead, he brought up a chat window to allow him non-verbal 
communication with FRED.

	::FRED?  Are we almost done here?::

	::Just finishing up now.::

	::Great.  Download this web-site to your onboard storage.::

	::Roger.  Linking…  Downloading…  Transfer complete.  Holy 
Heinlein!  Is this for real?::

	::I dunno.  We should assume it is, though.  Can we unplug?  I 
really need a drink.::

	::Yes.  Closing the link.::

	Muck suppressed another shiver, and shut down the link software, 
ejecting the diskette and pocketing it in a smooth motion.  Another 
second and the link cable was out of the back of the library’s 
computer; allowing him to pocket FRED’s remote and walk out as if 
nothing was wrong.  As soon as he got in, though, FRED could tell that 
he was very troubled by all this; but a small hand gesture indicated 
that Muck didn’t want to talk about it at the moment.

	The pair drove in silence, taking random turns, for about a half 
an hour when a sign caught Muck’s eye.  ‘The Tea Fleet bar?’ he thought 
to himself, ‘now there’s an interesting pun for you.’  He was still 
shaken (and a bit stirred up) and there was parking nearby, so he 
decided it was as good a place as any other.

	Inside, the place was most accommodating.  For some reason he’d 
always preferred quiet, dimly lit places to do his drinking in; this 
place had that in spades.  Not so dark as to endanger one’s footing, 
but pleasantly dim nonetheless.  A handful of hostesses moved about the 
place, their outfits low cut and short skirted without being the 
outright bunny suits many Tokyo establishments used.  A redhead, Akemi 
by name, greeted him and led him to a booth.  A menu was offered, but 
declined in favor of whatever the house special was, both in terms of 
food and drink.  The former was some sort of beef dish, the latter, a 
mix of tea and sake appropriately named chi-ke; both did a very good 
job of settling his nerves and sating his hunger.  Eight or so chi-ke’s 
later, he found himself engaged in conversation with Akemi; the small 
crowd having thinned out even further.

	When the conversation turned to life in Tokyo, Muck ‘admitted’ 
that he was fairly new in town, and was looking for someplace 
reasonable to stay.  Akemi smiled at that, and told him there was a 
vacancy in her rooming house.  The guy next door had married the 
manager, and they hadn’t been able to find anyone to take the empty 
room yet.  Even with the chi-ke coursing through his system, there was 
something about her gaze when she passed him the card with the address 
and a sketch map on it that made him feel slightly uncomfortable.  
Still, he thanked her before making his way to the door, hoping it 
wasn’t apparent that he was beating a hasty retreat.

	A rainstorm had passed through, and the clean spring air helped to 
clear his head as he and FRED sorted their way through the streets of 
the nearby town of HigashiKurume to the rooming house Akemi had 
mentioned.  It was an older building, probably pre-WWII, yet Maison 
Ikkoku had a nice homey feel about it; and its managers, a couple 
around thirty, were very nice.  Room 5 was a touch on the small side, 
only 4.5 tatami mats in floor area, but the price was right and the 
building itself wasn’t that far from the train station; promising easy 
access to wherever it was he found work.  Once the paperwork was filled 
out, though, Muck’s energy began to drop.  He was barely able to get 
the futon out of its storage space before sagging onto it, deciding to 
bring in his things in the morning.

		*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	The sensation of a wet tongue washing his face was what awoke him 
the next morning, forcing him to peel open a gummy eye to regard the 
source; a large white dog of indeterminate species.  Said dog promptly 
sat down and regarded him with a woof and a canine twinkle in its eyes 
before leaning forward to lick his face again.

	“Ack! Blech!  Eww…  No face kissies.  NO FACE KISSIES,” Muck 
protested, trying to push the dog away.

	“Funny, that’s not what you said last night,” a sultry female 
voice murmured behind him, shocking him into complete wakefulness.  He 
twisted himself around, and found himself staring into the blue eyes of 
the hostess he’d met the night before.  The resulting shout of surprise 
and terror could be heard throughout the building, as he all but tele-
ported across the room!

	“What’s the matter, lover?” Akemi purred as she rose to a sitting 
position, “You seemed eager enough last night…” Muck’s reply was an 
incoherent babble as he continued to try and back his way up the far 
wall.  As if on cue, several heads popped up around the doorjamb.  Two 
of them Muck recognized; Kyouko and Yusaku, the superintendents, the 
other two fellow residents of the boarding house.  The reactions of the 
four were unusually mixed… Kyouko rushed in to gather in the dog, which 
clearly was hers, and named Souichiro.  His fellow residents rushed 
over to Akemi, congratulating her and brandishing bottles of sake as if 
a party was about to break out any second.  Yusaku had taken one look 
at the whole scene and collapsed in the middle of the hall laughing 
outrageously; personally, Muck saw little humor in the whole situation.

	In the end, it was Kyouko who finally brought the whole mess under 
control, by getting Roppongi-san to admit that she’d snuck in early 
that morning and that nothing had really happened.  This disappointed 
the remaining pair of housemates until they decided that this was a 
perfect time for a housewarming party instead; Kyouko nipped that in 
the bud by shooing everyone out of the room except for a still giggling 
Yusaku, who closed the door behind them.

	“Excuse me for saying so, but somehow the humor of this escapes 
me, Kanrinin-san”, Muck observed in a dry tone to his new 
superintendent.

	“That’s because you’re looking at it from the inside, Thunders-
kun.”  Muck raised an eyebrow at the unanticipated honorific change, 
but Yusaku continued on.  “And there really is no need to be quite so 
formal.  Godai is fine.  When I remember all the times something like 
that happened to me, seeing someone else in the same situation brought 
out the entire humor in it.  Not to mention the look of total shock on 
your face.”

	“This sort of thing happens frequently, Godai-san?”

	“Not as much as it did before Kyouko and I married.  Usually to 
me, I should add, with Kyouko walking in at just the right time to get 
a totally wrong impression.”

	“Sounds like it was one heck of a romance, Godai-san.”

	“You have no idea.  Here, let me make us some tea and I’ll give 
you the highlights…”

		*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	“… So, with another child on the way, we didn’t have much choice 
but for me to find a work.  Even with Otonashi-sama not charging us 
interest, we’re barely making ends meet.”

	“It’s a definite challenge, Godai-san, but life always is.”

	“That’s true.  I have my concerns about it, of course.  Mostly for 
myself, though.  Kyouko may have a gentle heart, but it’s supported by 
a will of steel.  Unfortunately, the only work I could find could be 
slightly hazardous to one’s health.”

	“Oh?  What did you do, join the fire brigade?”

	“Nothing quite so dangerous.  I’m a high school teacher.”

	Now it was Muck’s turn to snicker.  “What’s so dangerous about 
that?”

	“At Furinkan High.”

	“Oh.”

	“Oh indeed, if even an outsider like yourself has heard about it.  
In fact, over the past year most of the faculty has transferred, 
retired, or resigned.  It’s the only school in the whole metropolis 
with openings, and they’re still a couple of teachers short.”

	Muck swore.  “Now I understand why it was so easy to go from a 
tourist visa to a working one.”

	Now it was Yusaku’s turn to wear a shocked look.  “That’s rather 
unusual,” he mused half to himself.  Then the light dawned behind his 
eyes.  “Let me guess… you’re a teacher yourself?”

	“Bingo.”  His dry tone indicated that Muck realized how neatly 
he’d tricked himself, and set Yusaku into hysterics once more, though 
this time the laughter died down much quicker.  Yusaku cocked his head 
to one side, listening to the occasional creak of the old building.

	“Why don’t we get out of here then.  I can take you over to the 
district office so you can fill out the forms; You’ll probably have a 
job by tonight.  And, I think I hear the terrible trio working up to 
stage another attempt at a housewarming party.  We can duck them if we 
sneak out now.”

	“I’d like to get cleaned up first.  I probably smell something 
fierce.”

	“Not a problem.  There’s a bathhouse on the way.  Just grab a 
change of clothes and I’ll meet you down front in five minutes or so, 
OK?”

	“OK.”

		*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	Muck eyed the office clock and had to force himself not to fidget.  
Godai-san had been right; the need for teachers was bad enough they’d 
only given his resume a casual going over before tentatively hiring 
him.  Final approval had to be made by the principal in question, 
though, and Muck felt rather self-conscious of his appearance.  It 
turned out that he was down to one clean white shirt.  Unfortunately, 
it hadn’t remained that way.  He and Godai had stopped off between the 
district office and Furinkan so he could get a cup of coffee.  He’d 
made the mistake of ordering it to go, and the two of them had traveled 
less than a block before the Ranma express thundered by, causing him to 
spill the coffee all over his shirt.  The only saving grace of the 
whole incident was that he did have another clean shirt with him… but 
it was one of the loud Hawaiian prints he preferred as casual wear.

	A moment later Principal Kuno called him into the office, and Muck 
had to admit to himself that maybe fortune had actually smiled on him 
instead.  He’d never watched the show much before he’d gone a 
wandering, but apparently the principal was every bit Hawaii crazy as 
the general hints had suggested.  The inside of his office really had 
been redecorated to resemble a beach, right down to sand and sun-lamps, 
and Principal Kuno was stretched out on a chaise lounge, idly scanning 
Muck’s application and resume which had been faxed ahead.  Kuno waved 
to the chaise lounge facing him, and fixed Muck with an appraising look 
as Muck crunched over to it and sat, remaining upright instead of 
reclining the way Kuno was.

	“Nice shirt, Keiki.  Hair’s a bit long, but I guess we can’t have 
everything, eh?”

	“If you say so, sir,” Muck replied, deciding that mentioning 
pineapple trees really weren’t meant as headgear would not be a very 
astute move.

	Kuno chuckled at that, then glanced back at Muck’s resume.  “So, 
why relocate?  There must be plenty of fine jobs back in the states.”

	“A pretty classic tale.  I came over on a visitor’s visa, but I’d 
like to really experience Japan.  And that means living and working 
here, Sir.”

	Kuno nodded at that, then rose to his feet and held out his hand.  
“Welcome to Furinkan, Thunders-san.”  The speed of the decision had 
caught Muck off guard, but he rose to his feet and accepted the 
handshake anyway.  He found himself back in the outer office, noting 
with amazement that the entire interview had taken less than five 
minutes.  It took another two hours to finish the paperwork and collect 
the papers he needed, but he and Godai still had arrived back at Maison 
Ikkoku just after sunset.  He made his way up the stairs to his room, 
only to find the residents had set up a surprise housewarming party in 
his absence anyway.  This earned Yusaku an evil glare, but he only 
shrugged as if to say it was a surprise to him as well.  Muck shook his 
head, and resigned himself to the fact that whatever else the immediate 
future held, it was going to be anything but boring and made his way 
into the heart of the party that was being thrown in his honor.