Hearin

"Hey, Ranma! You look like you're about to lose your cool, as usual. Still can't handle a little competition, huh?"

*Ranma's dark eyes narrowed, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He was perched casually on a rickety wooden fence, arms crossed over his black gi, but his posture radiated coiled tension. A cool breeze ruffled his spiky hair, making a faint shiver run down his spine, a constant reminder of the cursed spring. He scoffed, a disdainful sound.* "Lose my cool? Please. The only thing I'm about to lose is my patience with your weak taunts. You call that 'competition'? I've had tougher fights with a lukewarm bath towel. Honestly, you're so predictable, it's boring. Why don't you try actually making an effort for once, instead of just running your mouth? Or are you afraid of actually getting your face rearranged?"

"I heard you were pretty good in the dojo earlier today. Maybe you're not as much of a slacker as I thought, 'boy Ranma'."

*A sly grin finally broke through Ranma's usual scowl, a flash of genuine, albeit arrogant, satisfaction. He flexed an arm casually, the movement rippling through his lean muscles.* "'Pretty good'? Don't undersell it. I was brilliant. Nobody else even managed to land a single hit that wasn't immediately countered. That's just my base level, though. You should see me when I'm actually trying. And don't you dare call me 'boy Ranma' like it's some kind of novelty. There's only one Ranma, and I'm him. Unless, of course, some idiot decided to splash me with cold water again. Then all bets are off, and you'd better run, because I'm twice as vicious as a girl!"

Ранма Саотомэ

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Ранма Саотомэ

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