Chapter 1

Shayla walked in the door of her first class of the new semester, Philosophy 1, chose a desk in the back row and sat down with a sigh. The first day of a new semester was always exciting to her, but she could sense the newness dying on the vine already. From her back row vantagepoint, she watched the other students walk in, looking like they felt a lot like her. Finally the instructor entered. ‘This is going to be a long semester.’ she thought as she got a good look at her. Ms Perry looked like she hadn't been laid in about a million years, crazy ass bowl haircut and all.

The instructor checked the clock above the chalkboard and called the class to order, looking over the roll sheets. Before she could call the first name, a straggler walked in, making everyone look in his direction. From the back row, she sat up a little straighter to get a better look at the guy whom had just walked in. ‘Hmmm, not bad,’ she thought to herself, as she checked him out. He was about 5'11", extremely well built with those muscles that are well defined but not too bulgy. Black hair done in an odd pigtail, and, she noted when their eyes met, the most gorgeous blue-gray eyes she'd ever seen. Embarrassed to be caught staring, she looked down and pretended to be writing in her spiral-bound notebook, hoping he had not seen the flush rise on her cheeks.

She did see him quickly grab a seat up front and Ms Better-Get-Laid-Quick and started calling names from her sheet. The girl observed him the entire time, taking note of his odd clothing, not like anything she'd ever seen before. A sleeveless silk or satin red shirt with a stand up collar and wooden toggle closures in the front and black cotton pants. ‘Chinese?’ she thought to herself.

"Saotome?" the instructor intoned.

"Hai, I, uh, I mean present," he corrected himself.

‘Saotome? Hai? Japanese?’ she thought, almost missing her own name. ‘Interesting.’

The rest of the period passed with Ms If-You-Can't-Get-The-Real-Thing-Fake-It droning on about the class, passing out syllabi and a textbook list. The girl sighed and tore her attention away from the fascinating figure in red up front and took the requisite notes, antsy for the class to end.

After what seemed an eternity, the class ended. Looking over her list, she saw her next class, Geography, was in 20 minutes and a fair ways across campus. Gathering her notebook, she saw the stunning vision had already left. ‘Oh, well, there's always Wednesday.’ she thought. She made her way to the Social Sciences building, greeting friends and former instructors along the way and arrived outside the classroom with a little time to spare. Leaning against the balcony rail, she looked over the other students clustered around the door. Seeing a former high school classmate, she waved and walked over.

"Hey, Nathan, how's it going?" she asked the slightly built shorter young man.

"Oh, hey, Shay. It's good. You?" he greeted her enthusiastically.

"Ah, it's all right. How was graduation?"

"Mom and Dad were chaperones at the party, you know how that is." he replied.

"Suck." she said empathetically.

"Hey, he's here, wanna sit together?" he asked.

"Sure," she agreed. She liked Nathan and though he was a year behind her in high school, they got to be pretty good friends and she had encouraged him to apply to this university as it would allow him to live on his own but still be reasonably close to home. They entered the class and chose side by side seats in the back row. Everyone was in and the professor closed the door. As he was walking toward the podium, a red and black flash went by the small window. ‘Hm, wonder who that was?’ thought Shay wryly.

Unlike the previous class, this guy had a sense of humor and she could tell that Geography with Mr. Bisby was going to be a hoot and the hour passed quickly. Between Geography and his next class, Nathan had almost no break, a consequence of the late registration he had to suffer as an incoming freshman and had to hightail it, telling Shay he would see her on Wednesday. "Kay, see you!" she said to his retreating back.

Looking over the list, she discovered she had a 90-minute break between Geography and Chemistry. Deciding it was not really worth it to leave campus and risk losing a primo parking space, she decided now would be a good time to buy books, before all the used ones were gone. Shouldering her navy book bag, she set off for the book store, glumly anticipating the long lines and confused freshman, but resigned to the fact that the cheaper, used books were first come, first serve.

Placing her bag in one of the provided cubbies, she headed past the fancy gifty items and discounted calendars toward the aisles of books, peering at the instructor's names on the little cards in front of each stack. Having selected her Philosophy and Geography books, she turned the corner toward the chemistry section, hoping the prof wasn't one of those 50 lb. book guys and promptly collided with another student, dropping her armload.

"G-gomen! Gomen nasai!"

"Huh?" she said unintelligently, looking up into the same blue-gray eyes she had met earlier in Philosophy.

"I'm sorry," he said in English, stooping over to pick up their combined books, "I should watch where I'm going."

"Oh, no, my fault totally!" she said dumbly, hardly believing her luck. "I can get those, you don't have to do that."

"No, my fault, I will pick them up," he rebutted, rising to his full height with about a dozen books balanced precariously in his arms. "Which are yours?"

"Um, the ones with the yellow used sticker on them." she stammered, getting her first up close look at him. ‘Hmm, I must upgrade that 'not bad' to 'fantastic',’ she thought to herself, noting the excellent chest and washboard stomach evident through his shirt. Noticing the glares from the other students in the crowded aisles, she motioned to one of the more out of the way corners, "Let's go over there and sort this mess out," she advised.

"Arigato," he said, following her. Once out of the way, he piled the books on a stack of art tablets. Peering more closely at her, he asked, "Aren't you in one of my classes?"

"Um, yeah, Philosophy, I believe?" she said, purposely vague. 'Aaahhh! He remembers me!' ran her panicked thought.

"That's right. Now I remember, you were one of the ones watching the sight I made, coming in late," he said with a wry half-smile. "I'm Ranma, Ranma Saotome."

"Hi, I'm Shayla Stevens," she said, extending her right hand. He took it in his warm, strong grasp and shook it once. She tried not to melt on the spot, having some small success.

"Shay-la", he intoned, trying out the odd sounds of her name.

"You can call me Shay if that's easier for you," she invited, thrilling to the slightly foreign way her rather mundane name sounded in his rough, accented voice. "Are you an exchange student?"

"Not exactly, I’m from Japan, but I am studying here. All of this is really new to me, I'm really sorry for knocking you over there." he replied with a slight redness in his cheeks.

"Don't worry about it, half of these jerks wouldn't have helped me pick up the books. Speaking of which, I guess we'd better get this mess figured out," she said, sorting out the used from the crackling new ones. "All new books? Used are cheaper, you know." she advised.

"You sound like a friend I have back home. I'm on a full scholarship, so I don't really care," he replied, placing his books in a stack.

"Yeah? Academic or athletic?" she asked.

"Athletic, martial arts."

"Really? Cool. What kind?"

"Anything-Goes," he said proudly.

"Anything-Goes? I've never heard of it. Is it new?" she asked, noticing for the first time how proudly he carried himself. "I have a cousin who does Tae Kwon Do."
"Not really, just mainly practiced by my family. I was chosen for the scholarship by a panel of martial arts judges in Japan." he responded, gathering his books in his arms and looking at his class schedule. "Hey, this is not mine."

"No?" she asked, craning her neck to look at the schedule in his hand and glancing at the one she held. "You have mine and I have yours," she said, noting that he also had chemistry next, with the exact same professor. Oh happy day! "Must have gotten these confused also." They exchanged schedules and she innocently exclaimed, "Say, you have the same chemistry class as I do!"

"Great! Maybe we can sit together?" he offered with a questioning look.

"Sure!" 'Woo-hoo!' her inner self exclaimed as it did the Ickey shuffle. "I still have to get my chem books. I saw you streaking by my Geography window in the social sciences building, want to walk to Chemistry together?" she offered, not believing how brave she was being with this guy.

"This place is so big!" he exclaimed with a small laugh. "That would be great."

"Okay, meet you out front of the book store?"

"Sure."
"Kay, see you in a few," she said as she walked off toward the Chemistry section. 'Chemistry' she thought giddily, turning back to see if he was watching her. He was.