He lunged. The Unfastening Gale—a sharp, spiraling chop—snapped the diaper tapes. The baby shrieked—not in fear, but in indignation. The Wipe of a Thousand Leaves followed, a blur of motion so fast it created a small, localized tornado of clean linen. The baby’s eyes widened. This was wrong . This was new .
"Yes," said Akane, smiling sweetly. "Think of it, Ranma. You, the great martial artist, defeated by a baby."
Not with the usual fiery entrance of a rival, but with a shimmering, pastel-colored vortex. From it tumbled three figures: a wizened old woman no taller than a loaf of bread, swaddled in ancient, dusty silks; a massive, fur-clad man with a boar-tusk necklace, weeping openly; and a baby. The baby was floating on a silk cushion, drooling with an air of imperial authority. ranma 1-2 manga
The vortex reopened. Light flashed. When it cleared, the baby was cooing normally, and the old woman blinked with the wisdom of her true age. The reversal was complete.
"Me?!" Ranma squawked.
For one long second, silence.
Then came the Talc of Tranquility. Ranma produced a giant shaker of baby powder. With a final, dramatic flourish, he dumped the entire thing over the baby’s head. The infant Matriarch, ancient mind in a tiny body, was suddenly buried in a white, fragrant, fluffy avalanche. He lunged
"It's a hundred-and-four-year-old tyrant in a diaper! That's different!" The first attempt was a disaster. Ranma, transformed into his girl form (a stray splash from the pond), loomed over baby Kima, making his best "fierce face." The baby yawned. Then, with a flick of its chubby wrist, it executed a pressure-point strike on Ranma's shin. Ranma collapsed, howling. The baby began to crawl—no, slither —toward the kitchen.
Baby Puchi, now in his own body, chose that moment to demonstrate his new, un-cursed personality. He projectile-vomited a perfect arc of formula directly into Ranma's open mouth. The Wipe of a Thousand Leaves followed, a
The second attempt involved Akane. Her "terrifying" cooking. Baby Kima sniffed the burnt offering, looked Akane dead in the eye, and signed a complex critique using baby sign language that somehow conveyed "too much ash, not enough spite." Akane burst into tears of frustration.
Then the wall exploded.