Tatewaki Kuno has it coming. Oh, does he ever have it coming. The boy is a walking cliche at times, make no mistake, but it is reasonable and fair to call him delusional to boot. Consider if you will his aesthetic. He practically screams the archetype he imagines himself to be. The same hairstyle, the apparel, the fighting style. He envisions himself as some samurai of old. A skilled swordsman to boot, who could lay claim to any woman that caught his eye.
Perhaps that is part of why he found his attention drawn towards Akane Tendo and the pigtailed girl in the first place. Perhaps that is the reason he ultimately finds himself obsessed with them. True enough that they are beautiful and strong, but they also reject his advances, and do so with such fire, such vigor, such strength, that it keeps him coming back for more and more, yet even still more!
Or maybe he's a massive pervert doing a bad job of masking it underneath some bad cosplay.
Let us put it another way for now: Tatewaki Kuno works precisely because he is a walking contradiction. He styles himself as a noble samurai archetype—honor, refinement, poetic obsession—yet everything about his behavior undercuts that self-image. The katana and kendo discipline are real enough, but they’re less about mastery or self-control and more about performance. He isn’t living bushidÅ; he’s cosplaying it in his own head.
His fixation on Akane and the Pigtailed Girl fits that pattern neatly. He doesn’t pursue them because he understands or respects them; he pursues them because they resist him. In Kuno’s warped romantic logic, rejection isn’t a boundary—it’s proof of destiny. Their strength and fury reinforce his fantasy of himself as the tragic, spurned warrior-poet. Every slap, every insult becomes fuel for the narrative he’s already written.
That’s why “delusional” is a reasonable label. Kuno doesn’t perceive reality so much as overwrite it. He hears what he wants to hear, sees what flatters his self-concept, and ignores everything else. The comedy comes from how airtight this delusion is: no amount of evidence ever penetrates it.
And yet, the funny part is, people tend to ship him with Nabiki Tendo. Perhaps it is because people look at them bickering, and compare them to Ranma and Aknae. Which is fair enough. However, there's a difference between being a tsundere and actually hating someone. There's a reason the trope of two people arguing then suddenly making out exists - and there's a reason you don't really see that in real life.
It doesn't hurt that Nabiki's hot, but Kuno seems oblivious to it. Gives one the impression that there was, perhaps once, something there - but she'd realised he was stupid or he'd realised she was a manipulative demon in the form of a pretty girl, and the animosity grew from there.
Cue now, where Nabiki - still clad in her tiger print bikini - was drifting around Kuno's head. All part of a ploy, you see, between herself and Ryoko Mendo to mess with his head. No matter how much he might hate her guts, the fact of the matter is, if someone with a body like Nabiki is drifting around dressed like that? You're gonna notice. You're gonna have a hard time not looking at her lovely thighs, her splendid slender waist, her exposed shoulders, that hint of cleavage, that -
"Could you please cease and desist?!" Kuno yelled.
"Stop what?" Nabiki asked. "Hey, everyone, am I doing anything weird?"
Everyone else in the room looked around and shook their heads. Coincidentally, each of them had acquired an additional 10,000 yen in the last five minutes.
Money really does make the world go around, doesn't it? Money and sex and power. Which these two were using rather effectively, for their own personal amusement.
Aha? These two? We've talked about Nabiki, but what about the other? Ryoko Mendo, obviously, where did you think the obvious bribe to the others in class had come from? That wasn't even a single percent of her pocket money for the month, incidentally - remember that the Mendos are ridiculously wealthy.
"But you're floating in mid-air!" Kuno complained, then reached out to her, only for Nabiki to gently, oh so quickly and gently, flit out of reach
"Really now?" Nabiki's voice came from her desk. An audio device strategically placed, of course, underneath the seat. "Is that where you think I am? You really are delusional, Kuno-baby."
His eyes twitched as he looked around. Then the teacher came into the room. "Settle down!" he said. "Into your seats!"
This was it, surely. You could tell that he was certain of this much, that the teacher would, please, let this madness end.
However, if one were to look particularly carefully, then one might see that the teacher had a bulge in their breast pocket with a little bit of green sticking out. Thus, as Nabiki continued to float around the room, lazily posing as she did so, the teacher simply... did not pay her any mind at all.
Needless to say, but this was not doing anything great for Kuno's mental state at the moment.
======
Lunchtime came, and the two bikini clad girls were sitting on the rooftop. Not upon a blanket, mind, but upon a stage that had been set up there by Ryoko's servants.
"My word, he is rather fun to torment," Ryoko said. "I can see why you tease him so."
"He just keeps falling for it," Nabiki sighed. "I suppose he's like your big brother in a way?"
"Quite so," Ryoko sipped at her tea. "Unduly proud. Believes himself to be a ladies man. The two of them would -"
She stopped, and so too did Nabiki. The two girls slowly but surely turned towards one another in sudden epiphany. A truly awful, terrible idea had formed between them, you see.
"I hear it said that when two magnets of the same pole are brought close, they repel one another," Nabiki said.
"Indeed," Ryoko said, leaning closer to Nabiki now. "What a terrible thing it would be. For them, for those around them."
"That arrogance," Nabiki whispered, leaning closer still to Ryoko. "That set of personalities. Oh, they'd make people absolutely miserable from being around them."
"Not to mention each other," Ryoko said. "Ah, but they need a pretense, do they not?"
"Mmm~ Kuno's got a crush on my little sister and Ranma's girl form. Perhaps we could use that...?"
"Oooh, you're a demon~" Ryoko teased further, before leaning in, the two of them closing their eyes, puckering their lips - then turning to stare right out through the fourth wall. At you.
"Ah-ah-ah!" Nabiki wagged her finger. "Did you think we were going to kiss?"
"Honestly now, the minds of perverts," Ryoko chuckled. "Although, one must admit, there is something rather... enjoyable about our collaboration."
Thus, they pulled the curtain down on the scene while planning out their little scheme, to torment those boys some more - but if one listened very closely, one might hear the distinctive sound of lips suckling upon lip.
======
Shutaro Mendo was in a bad mood. Not merely irritated, nor even righteously indignant, this was a deep, grinding, existential foulness, the sort that clung to the soul like damp silk. Something was wrong. His posture felt incorrect. His instincts were misfiring. He had the uncanny sense that a vital pillar of his dignity had been quietly removed while no one was looking.
Worse still, Moroboshi Ataru was involved. This realization had struck Mendo with the certainty of fate. If something had gone awry in the universe, Moroboshi would be standing at the epicenter, grinning idiotically. Thus, sword drawn and justice blazing in his eyes, Mendo located the scoundrel strolling through town, hands in pockets, eyes roaming shamelessly, Lum—mercifully—nowhere in sight. It would not do for her to behold what he was going to do!
“Moroboshi!” Mendo bellowed, descending upon him in a flash of steel and righteous fury—
Only for Ataru to casually produce a small handbell and give it a tiny little ring. Mendo froze mid-stride. His sword lowered. His spine straightened. His face twisted into an expression of profound internal horror as his body bent forward into a deep, immaculate bow.
“How may I serve you today?” he asked, voice smooth, respectful, and utterly betrayed by his eyes.
Ataru beamed like a rat that found a slice of cheese. “Hello there, servant~” he chirped. “Man, this will never gets old. Seriously, you should thank your sister for telling me about this!”
Something inside Mendo’s soul cracked. His pride was taking another blow as his body behaved against his wishes.
“So!” Ataru continued, pacing smugly. “Today, you’re gonna be my wingman! You’ll help me pick up girls!”
Punishment, Mendo decided distantly. Monumental punishment. This humiliation would be recorded, catalogued, and repaid with interest the moment fate righted itself. For now, he would endure. Nobly. Stoically. With a mental ledger of vengeance that grew heavier by the second.
Ataru clapped his hands.
“Ooooh! That girl over there has a really nice figure!” He pointed down the street. “Go over there and get her ready for me, okay~?”
“Go talk to her your—” Mendo snapped, sheer force of will briefly breaking through... Only to be interrupted by another ring of that tiny bell. And off he went. Mendo strode to the girl with impeccable posture, cleared his throat, and delivered a flawless aristocratic introduction that somehow managed to be both eloquent and deeply humiliating.
“Pardon the intrusion, fair lady,” he said stiffly, “but my… master… wishes to inquire as to your availability for romantic engagement.”
The girl stared back at him, her head tilting as she tried to work this little mess out. What exactly was she looking at right now? That must be what she was thinking.
“…Is this some kind of prank?”
“Not at your expense,” he replied.
"Ohohoho! I see, I see!" the girl laughed, and it seemed determined to split his ears apart. "In other words, you have lost a wager of some sort, and your friend has sent you out to hit upon the first pretty girl you see with the lamest possible pickup line?"
Before he could reply, the girl pulled out a bouquet of roses and stuffed them into his face. The next thing that Mendo knew, he was down and twitching on the pavement, while the girl laughed her shrieking laugh and frolicked off down the street, finding great amusement in his torment.
"I like her," Ataru said, rolling on his heels with his hands in his pockets. Hardly a high bar to clear! If a girl has a half decent body he'd like her! The boy had no standards to speak of! "Come on, my new servant! Kukuku! We've got some more girls to hit on, too~"
If it all seems a bit much, just remember that this boy and Kuno were cut from the same cloth. Thus, it could be said, they both have it coming.
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