Age of the Amazons
(or, Anachronism!)

--by Mikkeneko







Yappa pa, yappa pa, ii shan ten...



A cheerful tinkle announced the entrance of customers into the Nekohanten. "Come on in!" Shampoo sang as she grabbed a nearby menu and ducked under the curtain. The room was nearly empty; the lunch crowd had gone, but the dinner rush wouldn't arrive for a few hours yet. "Welcome to the Neko... Airen!"

The menu fluttered limply to the floor as Shampoo abandoned it to fling herself joyfully on the damp, pigtailed girl that had just stepped in through the door. The newcomer made a standard half-hearted effort to push Shampoo away, but the purple-haired Amazon had a grip like a very shapely limpet, much to the amusement of the boy who had entered at the same time and was just now folding his umbrella.

Shampoo was a Jozetseku warrior, and had grown up in the Balkalya mountain range -- the same region that housed the Phoenix mountain, the Musk Dynasty clan, the Yaocaicun village of magicians, and the legendary training grounds of Jusenkyo. She was not particularly bothered by the fact that her husband was currently female any more than the fact that his companion had fangs, which were particularly prominent as he smirked in amusement. Still, they were blocking the restaurant doorway in the middle of a business day, so after a minute or so of combat snuggling Shampoo reluctantly untangled from Ranma and retrieved the forgotten menu from the floor. "Nihao, Ranma, and Ryoga," she said formally, giving the two boys her best pretty-waitress smile. "You come for lunch?"

"Actually, we just stopped in because of the rain," Ranma replied. "I don't suppose you have any hot water handy? Ryoga here was too selfish to share his umbrella, and I don't really want to spend the rest of the day as a girl."

"Shoulda brought your own umbrella," Ryoga remarked unsympathetically. "Besides, I need it more than you do. At least you keep your clothes when you change."

Shampoo sighed wistfully at the thought, then coughed to cover it up. "Of course we have hot water. Always keep some ready for Jusenkyo curse, and Ranma much better as man, yes? MOUSSE!" She turned her head towards the kitchen, and her voice dropped half an octave and doubled in volume. "COME HERE!"

The half-blind martial artist stumbled out of the kitchen with a soapy pot still in hand. "Is there anything I can help you with, Shampoo?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes. Bring hot water for Ranma," she ordered sternly, then turned her back on him to smile at Ranma, her manner all sweetness and light once more. Mousse's expression drooped at her indifference, and he scowled hostilely at Ryoga before turning back into the kitchen.

"Wow." Ryoga stared after Mousse in amazement. "The way he runs to obey your every command..."

Shampoo made a brushing-off motion. "Mousse only good for fetch and carry, useful for hot water. He always kettle-guy."

She had no idea, of course, why Ranma twitched and turned red at that comment, or why Ryoga choked on sudden laughter.1

Outside, thunder rumbled, and the rain tumbled down in ropes. Ranma glanced at the sheet of water pouring steadily from the restaurant awning, and back at the steaming kettle on the counter. "It doesn't look like it's going to let up anytime soon," he remarked. "Maybe we'll stay for lunch after all."

"Very good." Shampoo returned to her normal businesslike manner. "Try noodle combination, Airen? Is very good today. What about Ryoga? You also eat?"

"It doesn't make much sense to stay in a restaurant without eating," Ryoga agreed, propping his umbrella against the wall. "Ranma will pay, won't you, Ranma?"

"What, are you kidding?" Ranma asked incredulously. "D'you think I have enough money to eat out at restaurants all the time? You pay!"

"As if I carried money around ," Ryoga retorted. "No way I'm going to support your freeloading ways..."

"Aw, c'mon, Ryoga. As a favor to a friend..."

"I am not your friend!" Outraged, Ryoga reached for his umbrella, but a sharp whack upside the head from Shampoo deterred him. Growling, he rubbed at the bump on his head, but Shampoo only laughed at him.

"You two no fight inside restaurant," she admonished them. "Is okay. Meal on house today!"

"Oh, yeah?" Ranma said, interested. "Is there something special about today?"

Shampoo bounced excitedly; she had obviously been waiting for him to ask this question. "Yes, today very special day! Is Shampoo birthday!"

"Your birthday?" Ryoga repeated, slightly surprised. "Do the Amazons celebrate birthdays?"

"Yes. Is very big deal among Amazons. Will be big celebration next year, that year is Shampoo's Coming of Age, but today is happy anyway."

"Well, congratulations," Ranma told her, beaming cheerfully. "Anything that's a reason for a celebration is good for me."

"Shampoo is happy if Airen is happy," Shampoo threw over her shoulder as she ducked into the kitchen. She returned after only a minute with a tray containing two bowls of deluxe ramen and a kettle of steaming water. Ranma brightened even further at the sight. "Just one more year wait. Then Shampoo not need great-grandmother to watch anymore; Shampoo can get married by self."

Ranma's smile wilted a bit, but she disguised it by taking and making use of the kettle on the tray. "So you're saying, once you have this coming-of-age celebration thingy, the old bat will go back to China?"

Ryoga took a bowl of ramen and began to eat as Shampoo took the kettle back. "Maybe. Great-grandmother very much like Japan. But Shampoo can hardly wait for Ceremony! Shampoo waited forty-nine years already; not want to wait one more!"

Ryoga had just taken a bite of ramen and choked violently, turning a bright red color. Ranma froze with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, gaping at the pretty young girl in absolute shock. Shampoo blinked in confusion as she looked between the twin pictures of stupefication that the Japanese boys presented. "What wrong?" she asked anxiously. "Ramen not bad, is it?"

Carefully, Ranma set his chopsticks down again. "Shampoo," he said in a calm voice, "how old is coming of age in the Amazons?"

"Fifty," Shampoo replied promptly, puzzled by the strange reaction. "Half of first hundred year."

"And how old are you today?" Ryoga managed to get out, only just now recovering his voice.

"Forty-nine. Shampoo said already." Shampoo was beginning to get a bit impatient.

"FORTY-NINE?" Ranma yelled, his calm composure deserting him.

"Ranma, just because Shampoo is young, no reason she not make a good wife! Only one more year before adult, and anyway she take good care of you!" Shampoo insisted, latching onto Ranma's arm.

"FORTY-NINE? YOU'RE OLDER THAN MY FATHER!" he howled.

Ryoga was assailed by a sudden vision of Genma -- a man he had never liked or even particularly respected -- chasing him around Nerima and begging to be married to him. He turned green, and barely retained hold of what ramen he had successfully consumed. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned to see Cologne standing in the restaurant entrance with a resigned expression on her face. "I hoped I could get them safely married before this came out," she said sadly.

Ryoga sputtered slightly. "Granny... did you know about this?" he demanded.

"Of course." Unfazed, the old woman hopped into the restaurant and rapped Ranma sharply on the head, breaking him out of his daze. He stared at her in unabashed horror. "Oh, stop that," she snapped at him. "I told you back when I first met you that I was three hundred years old. It's nobody's fault but you're own if you chose not to believe me."










"SIXTEEN?"

Had the Nekohanten sported any glass windows, they would have shattered under the force of Shampoo's disbelieving shriek. As if was, the doors rattled in their frame.

"How you only sixteen? You in same class with pig-boy, with violent-girl!"

"They're all the same age as me," Ranma found him defending himself. "Kasumi's the oldest, and she's only nineteen!"

"NINETEEN?" the Chinese girl wailed.

"Calm down," Cologne advised. "There's nothing to be gained by shouting."

Shampoo was in the same state of shock that Ranma and Ryoga had experienced earlier. Ranma had by this point snapped out of it enough to ask questions in a calm and rational manner.

"Old hag, what the heck is going on here?!?"

Well. Calm and rational for him, anyway.

Cologne casually smashed him to the floor with her staff before answering. "It's quite simple, really. Between the extensive martial arts training and the various herbal and magical arts, the Amazons age much more slowly than other peoples, perhaps one-third the rate."

"So Shampoo's really forty-nine," Ryoga marveled.

"And you're actually three hundred years old," Ranma said in a rather more shaken tone. "But Happosai knew you when you were both young... is he three hundred years old too? But he's Japanese!"

"Happosai," Cologne groused, "is not a good example to take. Over the course of his lifetime he's done many strange things to extend his lifespan. Part of the reason I continue to associate with him despite his lecherous ways is simply that I miss the company of others of my generation."

"Sixteen," Shampoo repeated to herself, like a mantra. "Sixteen. Airen is sixteen. Is not right!" she cried out unhappily. "Sixteen is child! Baby cousin So Pi older than that! Husband cannot be... child!"

"Hey!" Ranma objected to this description. "Who are you calling a child?"

Shampoo couldn't look him in the eye. Instead, she rounded on her great-grandmother. "Why you never tell me?" she demanded. "Shampoo no can marry little child! Not even think that is LEGAL!"

"You know, technically you're not even legal to marry in Japanese society," Ryoga observed. A speculative gleam entered his eye. "So your engagement to Akane is completely nullified!"

"There is truth to that statement," Cologne admitted. "Since Son-in... since Ranma and Shampoo were both legal minors at the time she defeated him in combat, then the law of marriage isn't binding."

"What?" Ranma yelped. "You mean, all this time you've been telling me that your tribal laws said we hafta get married, you've been LYING?"

Cologne actually shrugged, an apology showing through her peaked and wrinkled face. "I did not want to waste the opportunity to add such a fine martial artist to our tribe. You could have added much to the prestige of the Amazons, even if your years would not have matched those of your wife."

"Why, you meddlesome old..." Ranma, in his eternal optimism, leapt towards Cologne poised for an attack. Without showing any more expression than a slight sad shake of her head, Cologne sent him smashing through the ceiling and into the sky.

Ryoga bounded after him, eyes alight. "Hold it, Ranma! You're not getting away from me until you relinquish your false claim on Akane!"

"Kids," Cologne muttered.

"< Great-Grandmother, >" Shampoo said in Chinese. "< If I marry Ranma, what will happen as the years pass? He'll be aging, past his prime, before I reach one hundred! And what about our children? Will they be short-lived too? >"

"< My child, >" Cologne told her kindly, "< these are the problems all Amazons must face. Our tribe is the exception, not the rule, and those Amazons that chose to leave and travel the world, as I did, have painful decisions to make. I did not tell you the truth about Ranma because you seemed so devoted to him, but now I think that may have been a mistake. >"

"< What am I going to do? >" Shampoo said, nearly in tears.

Cologne shrugged again. "< The choice is yours, great-granddaughter. You can choose to continue your pursuit of Ranma in spite of this as well as all the other obstacles that fate has placed in your path... or, as the laws you believed in are not binding, you could choose to give him up. >"

Shampoo sniffled, her eyes wide and tear-filled, before she burst into sobs and ran into the back of the restaurant to cry.

She sat behind one of the counters, crying her heart out. In one sudden shock, half of Shampoo's world had been torn away. Ranma, her beloved husband, had suddenly turned out to be barely one-third of her age. Her glorious dreams, of returning happily to the Amazons with a beautiful husband on her arms, and raising a half-dozen rock-breaking children, were crumbling before her. She sniffed loudly and reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"Shampoo?" an anxious voice said from in front of her. "Are you all right?"

She looked up to see Mousse, talking to a cupboard. "Down here, stupid," she corrected acidly. "What you want?"

"Shampoo, you're crying!" Mousse's voice was shocked. "Did Ranma hurt you? If he did, I swear I'll track him down and get revenge for you!" A fire kindled in his eyes.

Stupid Mousse, Shampoo thought wearily. Just because she had once -- once -- told him that he had pretty eyes, ever since then he had refused to wear his glasses whenever possible. Stupid Mousse; he'd been following her around for forty-six years now. Dozens of times she had rejected him, but he stuck by her; he had always been there to try and help her when things went wrong. 'Help' that was completely worthless, far more often than not. Stupid Mousse...

"No," she sighed, wiping her face dry. "Ail... Ranma not hurt me. Is nothing, really."

"But, Shampoo!" he protested.

"Is none your business, Mousse," she told him, pushing herself up. "Nothing you can do."

"Well... if you're sure..." he said doubtfully. "Isn't there anything...?"

"If you really want help," Shampoo suggested, "you can do dishes. I not want think about that right now."

"Sure, Shampoo!" he agreed, immediately brightening. "I'll get right on it!"

She nodded tiredly and passed him to go back to the main room. "Great-grandmother?" she called as she ducked past the curtain, and froze.

Her great-grandmother was no longer alone in the restaurant. Perched on a chair was a little old man that bore a disturbing resemblance to Happosai. "Ah, Shampoo!" Cologne said brightly, turning to face her. "I'm glad you're still here; there's someone I wanted you to meet. This is the perfect example that an Amazon can, if she wishes, have a family with an outsider. Meet your great-grandfather, Lukkosai!"

The wizened old man turned to eye Shampoo up and down. "This is our great-granddaughter, hey?" he chirped. "She's got your looks!"

This time, Shampoo's scream did knock the restaurant's doors out of the frame; it also broke three glasses, two plates, and one of the lenses in Mousse's glasses.



-the end-