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)