Categories > Anime/Manga > Ranma 1/2
The residents of Nerima had a sixth sense about certain things. They'd had to develop one, by now, as a survival trait - those that didn't, well, it wasn't called 'survival of the fittest' for nothing.
All around the district, housewives were dashing outside to pull in their washing. Nannies tugged protesting children indoors, by the ear if necessary. Doors were barred and storm-shutters swung down over windows in the instants before a familiar war-cry rent the air.
"Ranma! Because of you, I've seen hell!"
The citizens exchanged worried glances. Looks like Ryoga was back in town again; things were always a little more peaceful when the Lost Boy was living up to his name.
Thud-crash.
"What! Why're you attacking me this time, pig-boy!"
They winced in sympathy. Behind a reinforced second-floor window, a distraught shop-keeper sought out the phone book and the number for a reputable glazier.
"Stop bullying Ryoga-kun, you pervert!"
Whip-smack.
The people of Nerima sighed in relief, and started to unfold from the protected cellars and corners. Akane's attacks tended to put Ranma out of the fight for a while; it looked like they'd be safe for an hour or so.
"Why stupid-girl hit Airen! Make Shampoo very angry..."
As one, the residents paled whiter than ghosts and scurried back into their retreats. In the cellar of a hotel, where he'd been crammed with the other guests by the owner, an entrepreneurial visitor to the area took out a notepad and started to calculate the expenses involved in starting up a construction firm specialising in bomb-shelters...
All around the district, housewives were dashing outside to pull in their washing. Nannies tugged protesting children indoors, by the ear if necessary. Doors were barred and storm-shutters swung down over windows in the instants before a familiar war-cry rent the air.
"Ranma! Because of you, I've seen hell!"
The citizens exchanged worried glances. Looks like Ryoga was back in town again; things were always a little more peaceful when the Lost Boy was living up to his name.
Thud-crash.
"What! Why're you attacking me this time, pig-boy!"
They winced in sympathy. Behind a reinforced second-floor window, a distraught shop-keeper sought out the phone book and the number for a reputable glazier.
"Stop bullying Ryoga-kun, you pervert!"
Whip-smack.
The people of Nerima sighed in relief, and started to unfold from the protected cellars and corners. Akane's attacks tended to put Ranma out of the fight for a while; it looked like they'd be safe for an hour or so.
"Why stupid-girl hit Airen! Make Shampoo very angry..."
As one, the residents paled whiter than ghosts and scurried back into their retreats. In the cellar of a hotel, where he'd been crammed with the other guests by the owner, an entrepreneurial visitor to the area took out a notepad and started to calculate the expenses involved in starting up a construction firm specialising in bomb-shelters...
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