Summary: Shampoo, 25 years old. She’s been the wife of Mousse for four years, but they’ve known each other way longer. Her goal? To discover what caused Akane Saotome to storm right up to the Nekohanten with a passion that rivaled the wind and rain bustling outside.Originally submitted and published in the Rumic Celebration Fanzine and special addition to my post-cannon series "I've Trained for This Moment" series.
A/N: I recently moved out of state and when setting up my new bookshelf, I tucked the Rumic Celebration Fanzine onto one of the shelves. Before doing so, I took a peek at all of the wonderful contributions and my own. At the time I submitted the piece, I was very unhappy with the way it turned out so when the magazine was first published, I never published it into this collection. With some space and time away from the work, I was able to see the goodness in it. Although this is far from the best piece I've written, I worked damn hard to try and emulate the world through Shampoo's eyes and I hope you guys enjoy it.
-X-
I've Trained for This Moment, Chapter 5: Special Order: "After the Rain Stopped"
Five years ago, Ranma and Akane snuck around the streets of Nerima so quietly that not even an Amazonian warrior could hear them. And without the chance to make Ranma her groom, Shampoo found herself sitting in a room that was too crowded to fight back in. She ended up clapping along with the other guests after Ranma said, “Whatever the future’s got, me ‘n Akane’ll face it,” but she wished she could’ve hurled bombs at them instead.
Returning home without Ranma wasn’t an option, so Shampoo stayed in Nerima until she was watching Ranma sit in a room that was too small to fight in. He ended up clapping along with the other guests after Mousse said, “Shampoo and my love will last a lifetime–no, two lifetimes!” Ranma’s trademark smirk never faltered, his blue eyes never twinkled with jealousy. As a matter of fact, Ranma never bothered seeing Shampoo. He just elbowed his wife in the ribs to get her attention then cupped his hand over her ear to whisper something only she could hear, something only Akane Saotome could laugh about.
Since she couldn’t bring Ranma back to China, Shampoo, Great-Grandmother, and Mousse stayed in Nerima. It wasn’t bad. The Nekohanten was more than enough for a couple and their family to carve out a future in Japan. A beloved future Shampoo decided to name Chai.
When she was born, Chai barely cried. She was seven and a half pounds of soft cheeks, gummy smiles, fuzzy black hair, and the most memorable tiny fingers and toes. Great-Grandmother said it was okay for a mother to give her entire heart to her daughter, but Shampoo would’ve done that even if Great-Grandmother said never to give her heart away. And it seemed that in just a few eye blinks, three years passed. And still, after each day ended, Shampoo would continue counting up the pieces of Mousse she saw in Chai. The toddler got her first pair of glasses last week, and when Great-Grandmother held her to watch Shampoo and Mousse train, her expression brightened only after the Joketsuzoku was over and the hidden weapons fell from her father’s sleeves.
Before they started their family, Shampoo was itching to pick Mousse up so she could throw him all the way back to China. Since Shampoo loved everything about her daughter though, she supposed she also loved Mousse a little more, too. And since tossing him to another country was out of the question, it was okay to admit that he did make work at the Nekohanten for her and Great-Grandmother lighter than air. Or, at least, he tried. When he wasn’t tripping on floorboards or breaking bowls. When his glasses rested on his face, not above it.
On this particular Saturday, sodden gray clouds hung around Nerima. They were so heavy that the rain Shampoo woke up to hadn’t stopped, turning the Nekohanten’s usual lunch rush into just a lunch hour.
While there hadn’t been many customers to keep her husband tripping back and forth from the kitchen, there were at least three girls whose stomachs were full and who were braving the rain with their mother after a last-minute play-date with Chai. “Okay, bye-bye,” Shampoo said, twirling a pink umbrella between her palms. “We see again soon, okay?” She wanted a large, welcoming smile to be the last image Mrs.Yamata and her triplets had of both herself and the Nekohanten. It was good for business and for Chai.
The woman ahead ushered along her three girls, each one giggling and toddling away in yellow rubber boots, coats, hats, and umbrellas. “Yes, we’ll be in touch! Thank you again for watching the girls today, Shampoo.”
A cat-like smile replaced her last one, and Shampoo couldn’t help but twirl her umbrella again. “Shampoo no mind, take care!”
She watched as the Yamatas became small specs in the scenery, humming softly. Now, Shampoo could bring the rest of the empty ramen bowls and tea cups to Mousse. She wanted to hear him praise their daughter for bringing back the first half without dropping them. Chai’s strength and steadiness were what Shampoo gave her, after all.
“Who there?” Shampoo asked, her plans halted by the sound of abrupt and hurried footsteps splashing on the pavement nearby. No normal person would run for exercise in this weather; it could only mean an opponent was attempting an ambush.
Martial artists didn’t run around town like when Shampoo was a teenager, but easing into a fighting stance came as naturally as it always had. It was easy to fight, and it wasn’t challenging to stay under the confines of a small pink umbrella. Shampoo squinted, purple brows dipping low to survey first to the left, then to the right. It wasn’t until a body barreled straight into her and a red umbrella flew high above her that Shampoo looked to the front. “Aiya, who think to–Akane?”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Akane apologized, pulling herself away to look up. “Oh, Shampoo, what are you doing here?”
“Shampoo live here–what Akane doing?” Shampoo asked right back, squatting to pick up her umbrella. She handed it to Akane before closing her own and walking back into the Nekohanten.
-x-
Shampoo and Akane sat at the same table where four happy girls once ate ramen and babbled together. It seemed that instead of quietly running around the streets of Nerima like Shampoo knew she could do, Akane Saotome was one and a half cups of tea into a very loud fight with Ranma. The same man she was facing the future with. “Aiya,” Shampoo said, topping off her formal rival’s cup.
The steam rose, creating a short-lived fog over Akane’s apoplectic expression. “Instead of leaving, I should’ve just strangled him!” She exclaimed, bringing the cup to her mouth and taking what Shampoo supposed was meant to be an elegant sip. It left Akane sputtering. “Hot, hot, hot!”
“Ah—Akane no think. Always do stupid thing like drink tea Shampoo just pour and run in storm,” Shampoo chided, taking an elegant sip from her own cup.
“Gee thanks,” Akane huffed, looking exactly like Chai when she fought bedtime.
“Akane get sick that way,” Shampoo added, sounding exactly like when she explained the importance of good rest to Chai.
“Oh... that’s something I hadn’t thought about…” Akane trailed. Her gaze fell, eyes tracing the wood grains on the tabletop. The pads of her fingers rapped along the tea cup divots, and Shampoo cocked her head to the side. She was used to watching Akane act mad as a Roman Candle crackling in the sky, but now she totally fizzled out.
“Shampoo know already.”
Akane shook her head, taking a deep breath before standing up, her chair screeching behind her from the force. “I need to go home,” she proclaimed, and Shampoo couldn’t be happier to hear it. She stood up with Akane, fully prepared to grab the leftover dishes she originally pushed aside—fully prepared to go back to the Nekohanten’s lunch hour. And then a gust of wind cut through her plans, sending the entryway curtains bustling in tandem. Of course, a second later the rain got heavier.
“Maybe Akane stay until rain calm down,” Shampoo suggested, taking a seat once more.
Akane groaned, collapsing into the chair below. “Oh great, leave it to Ranma to make me so mad that I can’t even go home–what a jerk!”
For the life of her, Shampoo couldn’t figure out what Ranma saw in Akane. Shampoo left her village in China to make a life in Japan for him. She was a warrior he defeated, he was hers by right. So Shampoo just couldn’t infer stand why he chose to marry a woman who never once thought about who she’d go home to after the rain stopped. “Akane stupid,” she repeated since the sentiment still rang true.
“How am I stupid no—”
Shampoo sighed, leaning back. “But Ranma even more stupid for marrying ungrateful bride.”
Akane scowled, “What are you talking about?”
“Shampoo just saying if Akane mad at Ranma, Shampoo happy to take pl–”
But before she could finish her sentence, thunder rumbled in the form of a bellowing, “Akane!” Because where one Saotome goes, another follows.“Akane!” Ranma repeated.
He stood in the entryway, one hand clinging to the door frame and the other holding tight to a closed blue umbrella. His telltale red braid dripped water like a faucet, creating a puddle on the floor. “There you are,” he said, blinking out a pair of tears. Shampoo didn’t remember Ranma crying at easy things like Akane running away. “You can’t just leave like that! I was really worried.”
Akane turned her nose to the ceiling. Her eyes were closed by the time she let out a distinguished huff.
“Aw, come on now. Don’t be like that,” Ranma pleaded, watching as Akane tightened her crossed arms. He strode across the restaurant, ignoring all the rain he brought with him. Shampoo frowned, not that Ranma bothered to see it. “I can’t remember a single time fish glowed after cooking it—it was revolting. I mean, it was probably radioactive–what’d you put in it? What was I supposed to do?”
The question knocked Shampoo out of her chair, and she felt her hair puff out like a cat’s tail. “That what Akane mad about!?”
“Oh yeah, and I guess I’m lucky she didn’t stick around to eat none of it; probably would’ve killed her,” Ranma said while Shampoo picked herself up.
“No it wouldn’t have!”
“It almost killed me,” Ranma argued, stepping closer to Akane and bending his head to be closer to her.
She
“It did not,” Akane retorted, lifting her chin up at Ranma.
“Did so,” Ranma pushed back, sticking out his tongue. “Knocked me right out after one bite, not that you cared enough to stick around ‘n see.”
“Well you didn’t have to be such a jerk about me trying out a new recipe!”
“A new—when’ve you made somethin’ enough times to call it old?”
“Not helping!”
Shampoo was almost there. She was almost beginning to miss when Ranma and Akane ran around trying to be quiet.
“Oh yeah, and wh—”
Enough was enough. “Bad for business having yelling customers!” Shampoo declared, placing her hands over the smalls of their backs and pushing them forward. “Ranma and Akane go home now, okay?“
“Exactly, let’s go already. Kasumi and Nabiki are coming over for dinner. Don’t ya wanna see ‘em?”
“Them? Yes. You? No.”
Ranma reached out and tugged at her sleeve. “Alright, alright already. I get it.”
“Good,” Akane said, shaking Ranma’s hand off. She stomped the rest of the way to the doorway then spun around with a 180-degree mood change. “Shampoo, thank you for listening to me earlier.”
“Yeah, I owe you one for that,” Ranma added, tossing up his umbrella and opening it in the street. He guided Akane underneath it.
“Ranma and Akane owe Shampoo lots,” she replied with a tightlipped smile, waving until Ranma and Akane became nothing more than specs in the scenery.
