A Ranma fanfic by Mike Breslau

Disclaimer: You know the drill: better folks than I own the characters that appear in this scribbling.


A small conference room located in neutral space - neither Heaven, Hell, nor the mortal plane - was hosting a meeting of gods and demons to decide what to do about Ranma. Time in this room ran faster than normal so that conferences would appear to be concluded swiftly. The essence of Ranma Saotome was temporarily stored in a leak proof stasis field at the front of the room - he should be safe there and would not experience anything.

"He would make a fine god," opined one of the gods, "He had a pure heart, devoid of hate, and always tried to do good."

"Maybe so," responded a demon, "but he'd be an even better demon. Chaos and mayhem were drawn to him like moths to a flame."

Another god replied, "Yes, he would fit right in with you higher-order demons, but the many lower-order demons would repulse him because of their destructive tendencies."

A sympathetic demon suggested, "After the life he's led, I think he would welcome the peace of oblivion."

Suggestions were offered and rebutted for a few more minutes, and the atmosphere in the luxurious marble room was growing testy.

"If I may offer a suggestion," said a new and wholly unexpected voice.

Shocked, the assembled immortals could only stare and respond, "You!"

Ranma flashed his trademark wiseass grin at the conferees. "You were not expecting me?"

"How is this possible? You were supposed to be dead"

"Only six of my bodies were destroyed - I was holding this one cloaked, in reserve for emergency use..."

As the somber Amazons were trudging on their way home they encountered Ranma leaning against a large rock.

A delighted Shampoo came running up to him. "Airen! We feared you were dead."

"Takes more than dying ta keep me down," replied Ranma dismissively.

"How?" asked Cologne.

"Who is very good at copying techniques, even if he's seen them only once?"

"You are, Ranma."

"Who do you know who died and returned to life?"

"Saffron." In retrospect, it seemed obvious.

Ranma had been weakened by his ordeal, but he knew how to regenerate his ki swiftly, and would soon be as good as new. It was uncomfortably confining to be reduced to one earthly body, but he could fix that in a few weeks.

Somewhat later...

Divine Ranma looked around his heavenly dojo in satisfaction. His latest class of a dozen Valkyries was coming along nicely. After two centuries the other gods had grown used to him and his unorthodox ways, and he had found a measure of acceptance. Initially, they had distanced themselves from him because he had another self in Hell and they weren't sure he could be trusted. Now he was respected for his pure heart and his mastery of ki, mana, and many disciplines.

There were rumors that Ranma was having an affair with a Valkyrie. These rumors were true. He had also become an accomplished dancer in his spare time.

Demonic Ranma frowned at the mid-level demon cowering in front of him. He had become the de facto disciplinarian of Hell, and woe to the imps who disappointed him. Two centuries ago the other demons had been wary of him because of his link to Heaven, but now they accepted and admired him - after all, Ranma never lost. The demons also had an easier time than the gods did in accepting his habits of switching genders or walking around with a variable number of bodies.

Ranma had found a close friendship - not a romance - with a willowy blond demoness. His 'hobby' consisted of gradually, subtly reforming the lesser demons so they would be less destructive. After all, once you've killed a man there's not much more you can do to him...

Chinese Ranma was teaching a class of Amazon warriors, both male and female, in his fortress/castle/palace not far from where his climactic battle had been fought. Some of his students had been his own descendants. Merely to be accepted into his training was considered to be an honor. Most of the Amazons considered Ranma to be a god - and he couldn't really deny it even though this particular body was ageless but mortal hobbies included, strangely enough, poetry and philosophy.

Japanese Ranma came home from another day of 'work' at Tendo Industries, calling out a pro-forma, "Tadaima." His wife Ranko already knew that he was home, because he and she were the same person. He had married several of his fiancees a long time ago, but none of those marriages had lasted more than 140 years. Even with Ranma's mastery of ki and magic his mortal brides could not live as long as he wanted them to - their minds filled up with experiences, and they had lost the appetite for more. Ranma had mourned, then accepted their loss, because he had known in advance that they couldn't keep up with him. Ranma had become an exceptional musician in his spare time.

Ranko had had a few lovers from time to time, but all of them didn't work out well. For several decades she had a career as a singer - her nearly four octave range and exceptional control made her equally at home in classical, pop, and jazz singing.

American Ranma oversaw the international operations of the various Tendo enterprises. He didn't actually manage anything, it wasn't his style, but he kept those who did manage the companies on the right path. His 'advice' was almost always taken seriously. His biggest problems were related to government bureaucracy, particularly the IRS. Their agents could not accept his age, his gender switching, or his ability to create valuable objects out of thin air. Aggravating, but nothing he couldn't handle.

From time to time, at random places all around the world, some hospitals experienced "miracles" - all their patients, even amputees, would be mysteriously completely healed. Nobody ever associated these happenings with Ranma.

All in all, it wasn't a bad life/lives for a "dumb jock" from Nerima...

Author's Notes

After the climactic battle, the events of the remainder of Ranma's lives would seem tame in comparison. I saw no point in describing them in a story of finite length.

I'm convinced that humans are not built to live very long lives. After the first century or so your memory fills up, and after that you live in the eternal present - without a past. Since Ranma is part mortal, part immortal he is better able to manage this than you or I would be.

I hope you enjoyed