Ranma ½ Love at First Bite

[Fellgrave]

This is glorious. Absolutely glorious.

And ah, what fun misunderstandings can be. I can't wait for Genma to have that 'talk' with Ranma.

 

[Lord Raa]

Woot, update!

More as/when you can.

 

[Dumbledork]

It's been a while. and I had completely forgotten about this story, which is really a shame since it's so much fun.

 

[Ordieth117]

I too had forgotten. I'm thankful to have been reminded. Enjoyable, humorous, and dramatic while still avoiding pointless drama and overblown extremes.

 

[ToastedPine]

Thanks for the support everyone!

Fellgrave: I'm still working on the talk.

Ordeith117: I have a tough time writing humor since I do tend towards the heavy drama. It's nice to know that the effort of keeping those tendencies under control are working at least somewhat.

As a side question, did anyone notice the Sailor Moon reference?

Here's the next section.

=====

Yawning widely around a toothbrush, Soun Tendo walked the halls, cup in hand. On any other morning, this practice would be of no consequence, but coincidence had aligned enough for him to notice conversation down the hall. Curious, he moved closer and recognized Kasumi and Ranma speaking animatedly.

'Hmm, they sound like they're getting along,' he thought before his eyes narrowed into shifty slits. 'As her father, perhaps I should listen in a bit, in the interest of assuring my daughter's happiness of course.'

With cup arm braced against the wall, he scuttled towards the kitchen, ears perked for the barest of whispers. He spied his daughter around the corner, her back to him. Soun's eyes rested on the crutch at her left, and started to tear slightly. He couldn't help it-- she was one of his precious little girls. The very idea of any harm befalling them was terrifying.

Resolutely sucking back the sniffles, Soun dammed the coming water works. Kasumi sounded well enough, and she had just offered her friendship to the pigtailed boy, who seemed happy with the arrangement. For a brief period, Soun was awash in nostalgia... ah, young love. Why, he remembered how he and his dearly departed wife had first gotten along. Yes, a budding young romance should be like this, a steady progression from friendship to marriage. Maybe he should take Ranma aside to teach him about the awesome power of love notes written in green ink. Of course, he could also hint to his daughter that the young man would very much appreciate a laced kerchief as a sign of her favor.

Deeply engrossed in vicariously reliving the springtime of his youth, he missed the rest of their conversation until Kasumi's words burst like white water through the dykes of his consciousness.

"Oh my, are you going to force me down at the stairs again? I don't think Father would let you call it an accident a second time."

"Pffoooooo!"

Fortunately, the young couple had already gone into the kitchen and no one spotted the spray of foam from the flabbergasted father-in-law.

R-ranma was assaulting his daughter?!!! And what's more, it didn't seem as though Kasumi minded one bit. Suddenly, her strange reaction to being injured yesterday made a frightening kind of sense.

'I certainly would have been mortified if I had injured myself through such...games.' Soun unconsciously swallowed, and grimaced as what remained of the murky freshness went down.

After quickly wiping away the evidence of his presence with a handy gi sleeve, he hurried to the washroom. How was he supposed to feel about this revelation? True, the schools would be joined, but he couldn't help his reservations over how fast kids pushed their relationships these days. Then again, Ranma and Kasumi were both in their prime. Soun reddened when he suddenly recalled a few episodes where he and his wife had engaged in a little 'slap and tickle'-- though not to such a... uh... vigorous degree.

123123

Although every fiber called for her to stand in front of the stove, Kasumi kept a resolutely still grip on her crutch as Ranma centered himself at her customary spot. For now, he would act as her hands in the kitchen, and she was okay with that… probably.

"Not bad." Ranma touched the countertop, his fingers effortlessly sliding across the white laminate made smooth over decades by the ministrations of a thousand cloths. Catching his own faintly aloof tone, he shook his head, "No, it's better than that. This place is really comfortable. It feels... right," the pigtailed cook finished with a small shrug as though he lacked the proper words.

"I think so too," she said. There were many kitchens the world over that were more extravagant, bedecked with marble, steel, and exotic materials beyond imagining, but this kitchen was the one she had inherited. This was the place where her mother and later she cooked the meals that moved her father to tears. In this kitchen, she never felt truly alone.
Ranma opened cupboards and drawers, mapping out where everything went, and then inspected her cutting board. It was all rather professional, yet she felt exposed-- almost naked before the scruitiny.

"Thank you, I’m honored,” the pigtailed boy bowed slightly, “You’ve done a great job with everything, and I’d have to be crazy to pass up the chance to cook in a kitchen like this. There's a lot I can learn from here.”

You’re welcome,” she said, “but I can't take all the credit.” No, she really couldn’t. Despite his gruff exterior, he had seen the memories that lay beneath her outwardly simple domain, and that thought made her smile absolutely beatific.

“After all, this was Mother's kitchen too."

123123

Genma yawned expansively, arms stretching as he wriggled his toes on the warm grass growing by the koi pond. Above, swallows cut through the air, casting their arrow-like shadows. This was the life… maybe he'd do a kata, or maybe take a quick nap. What would happen next? He didn’t know and that was the fun.

It was a shame that Soun chose that time to scurry into the family room, resembling more gecko than man as he clung to the floor.

“Saotome! Pssst, Saotome!” his friend said in a hushed, urgent tone while beckoning him over. Genma heaved a mental sigh. Well, time to get back to work.
Scrunching down to show that he was being sneaky too, the elder Saotome slunk over to his friend. “What’s the matter Tendo?”

Before he could avoid the contact, Soun grasped him by the shoulders tightly. “I just heard that your--your son has been assaulting my daughter in a most ungentlemanly manner!”
Genma winced at the grip that was on him, and tried to make sense of his friend’s babbling. ‘Ungentlemanly… now what could that possibly mean?’

Rubbing his chin, he said, “Hmm, are you telling me that Ranma and Kasumi are getting…frisky?” A grin slowly spread on his stubble-covered face, and he clasped Soun’s shoulder in return. “Ha ha ha! Isn’t that great Soun? The futures of the schools are all but assured!”

His mustachioed friend turned a shade of purple, then red. “Shhh!” He leaned into Genma’s face. “Do you want them to hear?!”

Genma tisked. “You really need to loosen up, Soun.”

“Not everyone has exhibitionist tendencies like you and No-chan,” Soun deadpanned.
Genma regarded his friend quizzically, “How do you mean?”

“Matsuyama.” Soun shuddered.

“I assure you that I have no--” Genma started to say until a silly grin appeared. “Ah that,” he said, wiping the drool off corner of his mouth, “hehe, yeah….”

“Are you quite done, Saotome?” Soun intruded upon the steamy memory, arms folded.
Genma cleared his throat. “Be that as it may, even you must admit that it was a hot spring resort, and love was in the air. There was no more appropriate a place to engage in acts of passion.”

“It was the middle of the day, outside, at a segregated bath!”
He scratched his head and sweated at the rebuttal. “Okay, so I admit we jumped the gun, but we certainly aren’t exhibitionists!”

“The time at Juuban park---”

“Now hold on a minute, Tendo! No-chan and I checked the bushes. How were we supposed to predict that green-haired, staff-wielding cheerleader who got her jollies from prowling for couples? And we certainly didn’t cause you to have a sudden urge to buy a chocolate banana crepe from the nearby stand while we were at it,” Genma countered.

“I never ate another chocolate and banana crepe after that day,” Soun lamented. “How Ranma stayed an only child is astounding.”

“Even if Ranma were taking certain… liberties with your daughter,” Genma ignored him,

“which, now that I think about it, seems doubtful—my point still stands. We should be rejoicing for the future of the schools.”

Clearly unable to come up with a direct rebuttal, Soun moved on, “But my little girl is in danger! How do you think she twisted her ankle?”

That earned a raised eyebrow. “Are you sure Ranma did what you think he did?”

“I heard it from Kasumi’s own mouth! There’s no mistaking what she said.”

“Huh… didn’t think the boy had it in him. Very well.” He nodded. “I’ll speak with the boy about getting too rough.”

“Thank you, Saotome. My little princess is delicate, she must be treated like the precious jewel that she is.”

Genma, valiantly not rolling his eyes, let his acting skills to the fore. “Take it from me, my dear friend. When I’m done with Ranma, he will truly appreciate how he should conduct himself as a worthy fiancé. Actually Tendo,” he said, enveloping the other mans hands in his, “I owe you my deepest apologies.”

“Why would you owe me an apology?” Soun asked, a little surprised by the unexpected turn.

“This incident has made it clear that I have been lax in the boy’s training,” he said, a lone, manly tear trailing down on cheek. “If he had been taught properly, Kasumi would have never been injured. Once again, I must use these fists of mine to educate my precious son for his own good!”

“S-Saotome….” Soun’s lips quivered. “You truly are a good father. Though please, take it easy on him for your sake as well as mine-- I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong impression. He should still keep making advances towards my daughter, but in the right way.”

“Oh Tendo, such concern is more than I deserve. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.” Genma said, tightening his grip in a show of camaraderie.

Soun joined Genma and shook once, grinning all the while.

123123

Ranma’s hands were sweaty.

Considering the mild weather, his palms shouldn’t have felt like a toads backside. Heck, he’d participated in large cooking competitions dry as a bone. How was it that in front of a teenage girl-- albeit a most attractive one-- he was as nervous as the first time he’d sat negotiating at a table opposite the Amazon Elder Cologne?

“Hey Kasumi,” he asked with forced nonchalance, “what should we do first?”

After a little consideration, she said, “Would you start the rice?”

Rice? Great, something simple he could handle until he shook the jitters. Out loud, Ranma said, “Sure!”

Thanks to his previous examination, he swiped the inner pot for the rice cooker and headed straight for the cabinet below where Kasumi kept the dishes.

Soon his hands were in the sink, moving in well-practiced circles, the familiar sound of sloshing rice giving him a chance to collect his wits. The water was cold, but there wasn’t enough of it to trigger the curse.

Ranma wasn’t dumb, there was a lot more behind the eldest Tendo daughter’s offer. All the same, he felt that it was in part genuine. The fact that he was even standing here meant that she was at least willing to tolerate him.

The whole fiancée business was done in the heat of the moment, and it wasn’t the first time his tendency to act before thinking had gotten him into trouble. Kasumi ran so he chased her. It’d be easy to say it was as simple as that, yet things could have turned out badly if he had managed to push her too far.

Ranma wanted her friendship, and a small part of him wanted something more, but he wasn’t entirely ready to handle what could happen if she felt the same. He blushed suddenly at a non-specific thought involving said girl in a tight-fitting apron before concentrating on his work.

"Do you have anything planned for breakfast?" he asked while seating the pot into the cooker.

Tilting her head to one side, she said, "Nothing in particular, maybe something simple like miso soup and grilled sweet fish. I have a wire basket that can fit six at a time."
Ranma brightened; this was his chance to show her how he liked to cook. "How about changing things up a little?" Grabbing the plastic bag, he revealed its contents to be a block of dark-pinkish meat resting in white liquid.

Kasumi leaned in, filling the air with the scent of peaches. "Liver? Wouldn't that be a little heavy for breakfast?"

"Nah," Ranma said, trying hard not to notice how nice she smelled. "This is calf liver, which should be a lot lighter than beef liver, and it’s been soaking in milk on the way here to mellow it out some more."

She nodded. "Okay. What about side dishes?"

Taking a moment, he lifted the lid off the pot that was resting next to the drying rack, inside was the rich earthy green of kelp in water. "Ah, you've got konbu soaking for the miso. After taking it out, we can use it for a warm salad.”

"I’ll make a lighter vegetable soup instead,” Kasumi volunteered, “May I leave the liver to you?” She paused before hobbling over beside him at the stove. “There’s burdock, mushrooms, carrots, daikon and corn in the refrigerator, could you get them for me, please?”

Ranma moved, already having a rough idea of what she was going to make. Plucking the ingredients out of the fridge, he grinned in anticipation. There was already a chopping board nearby, perfect for what he was planning next.

“Hey Kasumi, check this out!” Tossing the ingredients into the air, he kept his eyes on Kasumi’s look of horror as his right hand went to the holster that he kept at the small of his back, and after a quick breath, he let the skills that he had carved into every fiber of his muscle take over. The vegetables seemed to float in the air, held aloft by obsidian steaks while precise cuts were made to each.

The show only lasted for half a second before everything landed on the chopping board. Shiitake were perfectly sliced in a neat row, the carrots were carved to resemble flowers, slivered daikon fell in a graceful pile like the mane of a snow princess, the peeled burdock formed small, neatly formed logs, and off to the side, a mound of golden kernels rested glittering like a dragon’s hoard.

With his trademark smirk, Ranma spun the knife in his hand in a whirling flourish before he let the tip bite onto the edge of the chopping board with a satisfyingly soft thud.
Kasumi clapped softly. “That was amazing, Ranma!”

Said pigtailed martial-arts chef could only bask in the adulation.
“…but next time, it might be a good idea if we were to washed them first.”

In another lifetime, the crimson on Ranma’s face would have been nearly enough to match the shirts he was so fond of wearing.

123123

It took her almost a full ten minutes to soothe the embarrassed pigtailed boy’s bruised ego, but Kasumi had seen an opportunity that had been too good to pass up. Anyone with at least some talent in reading people could tell that Ranma had justified pride in his skills. For someone of his perceived caliber, making such a rookie mistake was rare indeed.

“That’s a very interesting knife,” she said, diverting the subject towards the less embarrassing.

Not that she hadn’t been curious, cooks tended to compare tools, and it wasn’t everyday one saw a matte finished, black blade that seemed almost hewn from a single ingot.

“Hehe, yeah,” Ranma scratched the back of his head. “Kotetsumaru is one of a kind. He and I go way back. I even gathered the iron sand near the beaches of Ide in Tottori to make him.”

That earned an inquisitive tilt of the head. “Oh my, you named your knife?”

Ranma reddened again, though not as badly as before. “She wouldn’t give him to me until I had decided… said something about the heart of iron, and that true works of art should always have names.”

“She?” Kasumi asked, now a little confused.

“You probably won’t believe me if I told you….”

Smiling kindly, she replied without a hint of irony, “Please don’t worry, Ranma. After all the startling things you’ve brought into this house, I’m not sure I can indulge in an emotion as normal as disbelief where you’re concerned.”

“Ehehe,” Ranma chucked awkwardly. “Okay, point taken.”

Allowing a second to collect his thoughts, he rested his elbows against the countertop and looked out the window. “I was maybe eleven at the time, combing the beach and rocks for clams and crabs, when the storm hit. The waves were huge. I was almost fish food more times than I can count. Then I smelled something tasty. There was a cave not too far off where it was coming from and I followed my nose. I should have known something strange was going on when the muddy floor gave way to granite tiles, but I was too tired and hungry to care. One of the tiles clicked when I stepped on it. There was a rattling of chains, and I looked up just in time to see a falling metal cage before everything went dark.”
Kasumi looked up from the sampling dish into which she had ladled some soup. The story was interesting, but that was no excuse to let breakfast get late. “Oh my, I hope you were okay.”

Ranma grimaced. “Meh, I was fine, a little banged up maybe, but training with Pops has landed me in worse shape. The cage must have been meant for something a lot shorter since I think the roof of it was what knocked me on the head.” He shuddered, “It’s what happened after that was scary. Do you know what it’s like to wake up bound in rope and hanging upside down over a giant boiling pot? And to have some crazy chick dance around you and keep stretching your cheeks while telling you to confess to working for something called a Mokona?”

He went on, completely unaware of her disbelief, “Yeah, I know. That was her being nice too. Whatever Mokona did had her patience at the breaking point. Anyways, I must have taken too long to talk because she pulled out a knife and threatened to debone me.”

“She kept staring at me, sharpening the edge of her blade and cackling, but I don’t think I was really the one she was looking forward to butchering like a carcass.”

“How did you escape?” Kasumi asked while leaning in.

“Well, that was more of an accident, really,” Ranma said scratching the back of his head and glancing aside. “That lady knew her way around the knot, and I couldn’t use the usual tricks to get free. That got me to thinking, what a jerk Mokona was for letting me take the heat, and I must have been grumbling out loud since all her attention suddenly shifted to me. Before I could even figure out what was happening, I had been cut down, and she was bawling her eyes out in my arms, and telling me all about how he kept ruining her research and the cave she worked so hard on renovating. She must have really needed a shoulder to cry on.”

Ranma peeked in her direction and squirmed uncomfortably, prompting Kasumi to notice a slight tightness at the sides of her eyes and the cast of her lips. How odd….

“Long story short,” Ranma transitioned hurriedly, “We sort of came to an understanding over a large plate of fat rabbit stew. Turns out she was a master blacksmith. Boy was she freaky, but she wasn’t all bad….”

By way of demonstration, he stood and grasped the knife that had been waiting on the cutting board and extracted the liver from the milk. On a different cutting board from the one holding the vegetables, he patted the meat dry with a clean towel before he set to work. With slow and deliberate strokes, he trimmed off the translucent membrane, parting it from flesh more smoothly than Nabiki parting money from Kuno. Once the initial trimming was done, the liver was sliced into thin, bite-sized pieces, which he fanned out for her to inspect. Where the blade had passed was a mirror-like finish that reflected the morning sun.
There was a slight tinge of fervor in his voice. “What kind of cook wouldn’t look past a little bit of crazy for a chance at a knife like this?” he said, rubbing the handle lovingly against his cheek.

Kasumi inched away gingerly when Ranma degenerated into baby talk.
Her movement must have snapped him out of it since he cleared his throat. “She worked me hard, hunting for raw materials. I think the word she used was ‘questing’, which might have been her way of trying to kill me without getting her hands dirty. It was worth it in the end though.” After reverently wiping off Kotetsumaru, Ranma proffered the blade to Kasumi as a knight would to his queen, “Here, you can have a closer look if you want.”

If she were really willing to admit it to herself, she was a little creeped out, possibly because it made the pigtailed cook sound as if he wasn’t all right in the head. Then again, there was a presence to the knife that lent the story an indefinable weight.

Taking the handle, she hefted the knife and was surprised at the excellent balance despite how much heavier it was than the ones she owned. There was something else too. It took her looking at the knife from all angles before she identified what had been bothering her, and she sighted down Kotetsumaru’s length. The blade angle was borderline ridiculous even for a santoku, which could maintain up to a twelve-degree angle at the shoulder. The angle of Ranma’s blade looked to be even narrower than its brethren, offering the advantage of fine control. However, the pronounced thinness normally made the cutting edge very brittle and prone to chipping.

“How is this edge still so perfect?” She asked in amazement. Even getting up close, she couldn’t see a single imperfection.

Ranma gave her a brief evaluating glance. “You noticed the angle?” he said more as a statement than a question. “Ah, actually, I used to keep it at a larger angle, but that’s where martial arts comes in. Have you heard of the Iron Cloth technique?”

“No, what does it do?” she asked, wondering where this was going.

“You can make things ‘tougher’, in a way-- make cloth cut through bricks like butter.”

“Oh my, how useful,” Kasumi said, thinking of a future involving brooms bristles that would always stay straight. “Is it part of Anything Goes?”

“It’s not Anything Goes,” Ranma said, grimacing slightly. “You’re right that it’s a handy technique, but the less said about the jerk I learned it from the better.”

That had Kasumi’s curiosity. If Ranma had seemed perfectly willing to share his time with the strange blacksmith, what kind of person could get such a tight-lipped reaction for the pigtailed boy? Then again, it wasn’t like she didn’t understand not wanting to talk about certain aspects of her past.

They completed the rest of breakfast with little incident and, despite her handicap, had worked well together. Walking down the hall, a cozy-wrapped rice cooker in her arms, Kasumi realized that she was humming a happy tune. That and been fun, and felt like a cooking session with a good, if not somewhat eccentric, friend.

 

[PCHeintz72]

Nice to see an update... heh, might be humorous if Soun had come in or listened in at them describing knives and stuff, and of course getting the wrong idea again, or even Genma.

Out of curiosity, was wondering how your other stories were going, I only track three others, four total...

 

[Lord Raa]

Yay, update!

More when you can, good sir.

 

[Stormfury]

This made me so happy.

The only oddity I noticed in the posts was in the first one, where Genma says "Now wait an Art-loving minute!" That seems like a rather odd turn of phrase to me personally, and not the kind of expression Genma would actually say.


Other then that, fucking fantastic, and not only is it glorious to see a good Ranma fic update, but its even better to see a good Ranma and Kasumi fic update!

 

[frice2000]

but there wasn’t really a reason. Maybe he was just weird that way.

Could be tighter.

Kasumi and Genma's boy

As stated can easily be misinterpreted as Kasumi and Genma's kid. Kind of needs a rephrasing. Obviously isn't of course, but that's kind of what the text says.

Why, he remembered how he and his dearly departed wife had first gotten along. Yes, a budding young romance should be like this, a steady progression from friendship to marriage.

Could toss in a detail or two to enhance the humor.

Although every fibre

British spelling of fiber. That intended?

Although every fibre called for her to stand in front of the stove, Kasumi held back as Ranma centered himself at her customary spot, a bittersweet longing in her chest.

Awkward with the commas.

"It's nice," Ranma said, bringing her out of her musings. He ran a hand past the countertop, his fingers effortlessly sliding across the white laminate made smooth over decades by the ministrations of a thousand cloths. After a moment of reflection

Nothing wrong with this but wonder if you should have Ranma seemingly insult it to start before correcting himself? I mean it is still Ranma differences not withstanding.

It was all rather professional, but still uncomfortable in its intimacy.

Could do with a slight retouch. Not enough oomph there.

this was Mother's kitchen too."

Reply to that from Ranma would be nice. Or just some blocking from Kasumi. Ending of the section is a tad weak.

He didn’t know and that was the fun.

Could use a rephrase. It's a bit weak.

His mustachioed friend turned a shade

Missing a line break.

an Art-loving minute!

Pun is pretty bad.

That earned a raised eyebrow. “

Missing line break

it in Kasumi’s own mouth!

it from Kasumi's own mouth

My Little Princess

Unneeded caps on little. And possibly princess, but I suck at grammar.

“This incident has made it clear that I have been lax in the boy’s training,” he said, manly tears streaming down his sunbaked cheeks. “If he had been taught properly, Kasumi would have never been hurt. Oh the pain of raising a child! Once again I must use these fists of mine to educate my precious son for his own good!”

“S-Saotome…” Soun’s trembling voice joined his. “You truly are the best father a son could have! Please, take it easy on him for your sake as well as mine-- I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong impression. He should still keep making advances towards my daughter, but in the right way.”

“Oh Tendo, such concern for me! I couldn’t ask for a better friend. What do you say to a little pick-me-up before breakfast?” Genma suggested, pulling a bottle out of nowhere.

“You had me at ‘What’, old friend.” Soun returned, sake dish at the ready.

This is a bit too far to the crack side of the equation in my personal opinion. Think you should tone it down just a tad.

“But how did you escape?” Kasumi, now

Cut the 'but'. Makes it sound like she's less interested with the but in there. Also, think you should describe her blocking a bit more. Just looking at him excited/worried rather then the mild cheat of 'edge of her metaphorical seat'.

“I’m getting to it,” Ranma said before resuming

Nah, smile. She's into your story and Ranma enjoys getting attention so, no reason to sorta dismiss her.

flesh like water before Moses

Not the best analogy. Moses removed a lot of water. Ranma's doing something with a lot of precision.

but it was worth every year of life that got shaved away.”

Awkward. And not quite sure what you're trying to say.

which was surprisingly heavy,

Show that by blocking. It's kind of bleh when done this way.

“I’m honor bound to say that it’s not one of the Saotome or Tedo technique

Tad awkward. Also Tendo is misspelled.

Very nice to see more of this! Thanks very much for sharing.

 

[ToastedPine]

frice2000: Thanks for the corrections! I've changed what I could in the previous post. No clue what 'blocking' is, but I did the best I could. I think it means 'beats' or movement, or perhaps adding a new essay block?

The only one I didn't agree with was the Moses metaphor. He parted the red sea and did it with enough precision that only the Israelites got through. I changed it to something more thematically sound, so should be fine either way.

Stormfury: Art-loving minute sounded perfectly canon in my head with Genma's voice, but I changed it.

PCHeintz72: I can't really think of how anything Ranma said during that discussion could be misunderstood, and another spying scene would look kinda weird so close to the previous one.

As for my other stories, I'm toying with the idea of updating my Full Moon cross, and then the Haruhi cross after. I've added notes to both. It's so tempting to go all over the place. I've even got a two FSN fic ideas kicking around, which I'm trying very hard to ignore.

 

[frice2000]

Blocking is a theater term for stage direction which I normally just use. Just means where the character is, how they look, what they're doing, where they are in relation to others, etc.

Generally when I say that though I'm simply referring to the lack of enough visual descriptions and expressions of characters.

 

[Stormfury]

Point of order- moses with the red sea is that he opened it up (or rather, he told the jews the water would part when they started to cross, and Nachschon took the first step into the water causing it to part), and then later after the jews had already been quite a while into crossing pharaoh changed his mind and was like "man wtf am i thinkin lettin those jews leave?", chased after them, and then after they were all in the parted waters too did God just let the water go and crush em.

~the more you know~

 

[balthanon]

It's been a long while since this was updated, but just in case you're still following here more than the reviews at Fanfiction.net-- wanted to note that I love what you've done with this fic. I had to come here and grab the extra scenes you've already completed at least to add to my own copy.