Chapter Text
Saotome Genma stood at the bedside, and tried to not weep.
It wouldn’t be manly to do so, and he had a little boy who he needed to provide with as good an example as he could, to be better than Genma considered himself in his darker moments of self–doubt.
But at the sight before him, he could at least let a few tears spill from his eyes.
His sister. The only elegant and lovely thing that the Saotome line had produced in generations, who he often joked had taken all the class and grace in their genes and left nothing for him when he was born a few years later.
On a bed nearby, in much the same condition, his brother-in-law. He hadn’t thought much of the man—he was no martial artist, and too gentle and meek by far, but at least he’d… at least he’d been together with her when it happened.
Wherever his sister’s spirit was, her husband was with her.
“I’m afraid the prognosis is not good, Saotome-san,” the doctor said to him, as gently as he could. Damn the man, he could take it.
He could, really! He wasn’t crying any more than was necessary!
“Is there any chance of them waking up?” Genma asked, his voice coming out hoarse.
“I won’t deny it’s possible. There’s been cases where patients were revived from coma-like states after years, even decades.”
He nodded. He’d heard of cases like that, now and then. “So, there’s hope.”
The doctor had a frustratingly gentle disposition, but the hand he set on Genma’s shoulder spoke of a rougher past, an experience of his own as a martial artist. “There’s always hope, Saotome-san, but I don’t want to give you expectations that….”
He stared at the man’s hand.
“Do you have children, Ono-sensei?” he asked, barely moving his mouth.
The doctor’s eyes showed that he knew where this was going, as he nodded slowly. “Yes. A boy, just turned thirteen.”
Genma grunted.
A good age for a boy.
“You must be proud of him,” he said, looking away. “I have a son of my own, Sensei. Four years old, now.”
A noise of surprise came from the doctor. Not quite a gasp, no, he was more professional than that.
“Six months apart to the day, if you’d believe it,” Genma said, allowing a few more tears. “Sensei.”
A nod to go on.
“I won’t deny my niece her parents, Ono-sensei,” Genma insisted. “Whatever it costs, however long it takes.”
The doctor drew himself up, and said, “I’ll see what I can do to bring those costs down. As for the girl….”
“I’ll take her in, of course,” Genma said, turning back to face the bed. “I owe my sister that much.”
🍥🌙🍥
Nodoka knelt down. Oh, how to explain this to Ranma? He was still so young, and yet children could be so sensitive.
“Ranma?” She asked.
He looked up from playing with his toy, having been in the middle of making the cat stuffie make kiais and punches. “Yah?”
“Do you remember your Auntie and Uncle?”
She’d barely known them. Genma’s family were, well, a bit odd; for all that the woman seemed to be perfectly pleasant and respectable, that somehow made her the black sheep, for reasons that her husband didn’t elaborate upon.
Ranma smiled. “Yeah! Auntie’s pretty!”
“She is,” Nodoka agreed, trying to not say, ‘was’. Genma was very insistent that wouldn’t treat her as if she was gone, although Nodoka wondered. “Ranma… they got into an accident.”
His adorable little face scrunched up. “Ack-is-dent?”
“That means that they got hurt, but it isn’t anyone’s fault,” Nodoka lied. That other driver….
“Oh,” Ranma frowned. “We should give’m a bandie.”
“‘Bandage’, Ranma,” she corrected. “And they’ve already got plenty.”
Ranma smiled at that. “Oh, kay! So, they’re gonna be okay.”
She shook her head, and he made a confused noise, almost a mewl.
“Ranma, your auntie and uncle hurt their heads in an unusual way,” she said, trying to think of how to explain a comatose state to her son. “And now they won’t wake up, even if you bang drums or throw water on them.”
He seemed to understand that, so far. “How long’re they gonna be sleepy?”
“We don’t know, Ranma. Sometimes when this happens, people wake up a few days later. Sometimes it takes a few months,” she explained, trying her damnedest to not think about the possibility of even longer.
Ranma looked horrified. “Monfs? That’s forever!”
“Yes, it’s a long time,” Nodoka agreed. “Which is why they’re going to stay with the doctors, to make sure they’re safe until they wake up. And until they do, your cousin is going to sleep over with us. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Ranma?”
He smiled again.
“Yeah! Cousin Usagi’s the bestest!”
Well, that was a good sign.
Because, as optimistic as her husband was forcing himself to be, Nodoka couldn’t shake the feeling that she was looking at a future with an adoptive daughter, as well as a son.
🍥🌙🍥
Five-year-old Usagi pulled herself up onto the chair next to her parents.
It had been months, and they hadn’t woken up. Aunt ‘Doka and Uncle Gen were nice, and Ranma was fun to play with, but….
“I miss you, Mama, Papa,” she sniffled, looking at their faces. The bruises and cuts had long faded, and the doctors checked on them pretty often, and sometimes it looked just like regular sleep, but….
The door opened, and Ranma came in, holding two big fat onigiri.
“I’m not hungry, Ranma,” she told him. It wasn’t true, but she didn’t feel like eating right now.
He looked at her like she’d grown another arm. “Yah? These’re for Auntie and Uncle. I’m always hungry for breakfast when I wake up, one time I ate part’a my pillow.”
He walked past her, over to the little table between the beds, and set one onigiri next to her Mama, and one next to her Papa.
“Oh, yeah. That makes sense,” she agreed, as Ranma came over and pulled himself onto the chair next to her. “They’re gonna be really hungry when they wake up.”
🍥🌙🍥
Ranma was five whole years old when he woke up to cousin Usagi yelling at his Pop.
“They’re my Mama and Papa, Uncle Gen! If you’re gonna go do stuff for them, I’m coming too!”
He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with his fists, and asked, “wha’s going on?”
His parents and Usagi turned to look, and his Ma moved to fix his hair. She was always fussing with it. “Ranma, your father and I have been talking, and we’ve decided that it’s time for you to start learning martial arts.”
His Pop grunted in agreement, the bob of his head showing the bump on top that mirrored the bruise on his cheek. “That’s right. Sitting around here’s going to make us both soft, Boy. And I need to earn more money to take care of your aunt and uncle—”
“SO TAKE ME WITH YOU!” Usagi shrieked, and everyone in the apartment covered their ears.
“Usagi,” Ranma’s Pop chided. “I will not take a little girl with me on a martial arts journey, especially if I’m going to be entering tournaments. The path of the warrior is not one for women and girls.”
“Is too,” his cousin pouted.
“Is not,” his Pop replied.
“Is too!” Usagi yelled back, and balled her fist up and punched him in the shin.
Ranma’s Pop looked down at where she’d hit, made a little, “hm,” noise, and then fell over, sucking at his teeth.
Grabbing her by the wrist, Ranma’s Ma gasped, “Usagi! Little girls don’t hit their uncles!”
Ranma tried not to laugh at the sigh of his Pop wriggling on the floor, holding his leg like he was afraid it was gonna fall off.
Usagi tried to pull away, saying, “senshi do!”
Oh, he knew that word! It meant, uh, a fighter, or a soldier. A warrior, right?
“And where do you get the idea that you are a senshi, young lady?” His Ma asked, pulling back.
Suddenly, Usagi stopped struggling, and looked up at the ceiling.
Then down at the ground.
Then, over at Ranma himself.
And back, only to shrug, “I’unno.”
“There, you see?” Ranma’s mother replied, sniffing the way she did sometimes that wasn’t cuz she had a cold, she’d said so and also that it was rude to point it out. “Your Uncle is right, the martial arts are not for girls.”
Usagi looked like she was gonna cry again, and Ranma got up to hug his cousin as she said, “but…”
“W—wait,” his Pop said, and uncurled, sitting up. He stared at Ranma and his cousin, frowning in the way he usually did when he had to think hard. “Usagi-chan. Show me your hand.”
She held it out.
“No, the other—well, I guess it doesn’t matter,” Pop said, rubbing his chin with his hand before taking hold of Usagi’s hand and looking at the back. “Usagi-chan, make a fist.”
She did, drawing her elbow back as her fingers curled up.
He looked closely, his eyes moving to Ranma for just a moment. “Where did you learn that, Usagi-chan?”
Ranma looked at his cousin’s hand, as she said, “dunno?”
She was holding it close to her chin, with her left hand in a fist as well, but down below the right, with that elbow held in a right angle. And her right foot was back, while her left was forward, like she was standing on a line.
“Hm. A girl, but,” Ranma’s Pop said, “a natural.”
His Ma looked confused, and Ranma wanted to know, too. “Natch-you-rell what, Pop?”
“Have some respect for your father, Ranma,” Pop huffed. “And it looks like, without any training so far, your cousin Usagi just reflexively took a boxing stance.”
Ma yelped, “boxing?”
Pops nodded. “I’ve incorporated many different fighting styles in my Musabetsu Kakutō, Nodoka; western-style boxing training has some advantages for speed and explosive power. And there wasn’t much power behind it, but even so… yes, I’m certain that was very close to what they call a ‘Philly Shell’. Any uncommon style that emphasizes defense.”
Ranma looked closely at Usagi’s fists, and wondered. He always found his Pop’s insistence on training to be annoying, but if Usagi was gonna be around, then maybe it could be….
🍥🌙🍥
Six years old now, Usagi waited for Ono-sensei to put the phone between her parents’ beds.
“You’re on speaker now, Usagi-chan.”
“Thanks, Sensei! Oh, and tell Mizuno-sensei I said hi and thanks to her too,” she said, smiling sadly. “Mama, Papa, it’s my birthday. I’m sorry we can’t be there just yet, but we’re gonna come soon, prommy.”
She looked over to where Ranma was practicing while they waited for Uncle Genma to get out of his match. Some weird English guy who fought with hanbō and was named after a bird. Hawk? Falcon? She didn’t care.
“Ranma says he’ll bring an extra-special breakfast for you to make up for it, so make sure you wake up then! We’ve been learning a lot, and I wanna show you both… Uncle says I’ve got really good instincts for martial arts, I just try to move faster’n my body’s ready to go, so I need more training. And Ranma’s gettin’ real good too, he’s way better’n me at balance stuff,” she continued, sniffling. “Uncle Genma’s been getting strong too, cuz he says you staying in the hospital costs money, so he’s been doing tournaments and matches to pay for it.”
The sound of a crowd cheering came through the walls, and Ranma looked her way excitedly.
“I just, I want you both to know I’m safe, and I’m strong, and I’m a good girl,” she insisted. “Cuz, I miss you, and….”
Tears dripped from her cheeks.
It was getting harder to remember what they sounded like, but she didn’t want to say that.
So instead, she just said, “I miss you bunches.”
🍥🌙🍥
“Made some good money betting on you, Saotome,” the man with the beard said. “I run an okonomiyaki cart a little ways from here, what do you say I….”
He looked down at Ranma, and over to Usagi.
“My son, and my sister’s daughter,” Pops said, patting them each on the head. He was all banged up, but he’d won, which Ranma guessed was pretty neat. “Training them both.”
The man with the beard smiled even wider, so that Ranma could just barely see his teeth through the hair. “Well, then I’ve got to treat all three of you to a meal!”
Food. They weren’t running out, but Ranma always got so hungry lately, and he knew Usagi could eat just as much as him.
She caught his eye, and nodded. He nodded back, and as if they were one kid, turned to beg his Pop, “PLEEEASE?”
“Alright, alright,” Pop laughed, rubbing his jaw. There was one of those funny bandages shaped like a butterfly over his eye, and the hand he was rubbing with had two fingers wrapped up in white fabric. Gauze, right, that was what it was called. “Can’t say no to a fan or a free meal.”
As the man led the way, he introduced himself. “Name’s Kuonji. I’ve got a kid of my own, little Ukyō. Six years old.”
Ranma tried to listen, but the thought of food was taking up too much of his brain.
🍥🌙🍥
About a week or so later, Usagi rolled over in her sleeping bag.
“Ranma?”
“Sleeping.”
She bopped him in the shoulder. “Sleeping people don’t say they’re sleeping, Cuz.”
“Sleep-talking,” he replied. “Saw it in a manga.”
He totally wasn’t sleeping, but Usagi figured she could humor him. That was a thing grown-ups did, right? And she was having grown-up feelings, she was pretty sure.
“Kay, so sleep-answer me,” she said, and asked, “do you… do you think Ucchan likes me?”
“Course,” Ranma replied.
Her heart felt like rabbits making mochi at high speed. “Really?”
“Ucchan likes everybody, he’s a cool guy.”
Oh.
That was okay, right?
“Huh, guess that makes sense,” she replied. Ukyō was a really nice boy, and the nice boys in manga seemed to like a lot of girls.
And sometimes other boys, too. She’d found one like that, among the manga that Uncle had let her nab from recycling when they passed through towns. She was allowed to have it, he’d said. She just had to carry it herself.
Sometimes nice boys liked other boys.
“Ranma?” Usagi asked, quietly so as to not wake up Uncle. He’d had a lot of beer anyway, so he was probably pretty sleepy. “Do you like Ucchan, too?”
“O’course,” he replied. “He makes yummy food.”
That was true.
“But we can’t both kiss him, right?”
Ranma rolled over to stare at her. “Why would I wanna kiss Ucchan?”
Well, wasn’t it obvious?
“Cause he’s nice, and funny, and he fights good, and he’s handsome,” Usagi replied.
Ranma’s brows narrowed and he pouted, thinking hard.
After a while, he said, “huh. I guess that makes sense. But ain’tcha supposed to only kiss one person?”
Usagi wasn’t sure. “Dunno. Aren’t you supposed to, yanno, only like-like one person, neither?”
“Hmmm,” Ranma thought out loud, “maybe we should ask Ucchan.”
🍥🌙🍥
“Land’s sakes, wouldja look at that,” Kuonji murmured, drawing Genma’s attention away from the cheap beer.
As he turned back to look, Ranma had been tagged, and was kissing the Kuonji girl on the cheek.
“Huh,” he said. “Guess they’re sweet on each other.”
Kuonji grunted. “Reckon they are.”
The kids went right back to playing at sparring. Genma had to admit, Kuonji’s daughter wasn’t bad, herself.
“Gives me an idea,” Kuonji said, setting down a bottle of proper sake and coming around to sit next to Genma. “You seem like a powerful good fighter, Saotome. Responsible type too, taking care of your niece, supporting your sister’s medical care and all.”
“Hmn, thanks,” Genma replied.
He was trying to be decent, really he was. But most of the money from the matches was going towards Ikuko and Kenji’s stay in the hospital, and he’d had to find some other ways to support himself and the kids.
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Kuonji poured out a cup of sake, and asked him, “what do you say to an omiai, Saotome-san?”
An arranged marriage? Well, he’d already agreed to one with Tendō, so it was out of the question.
“Nice of you to offer, but,” he began, and Kuonji held up a document.
“I’m finally closing on a proper restaurant space,” he said. “Could give you the cart as a dowry, if it sweetens the pot.”
It… it was full of food. And he had a pretty decent idea how to cook it.
And once the food ran out, he could probably resell it, but….
“Suppose that would mean I’d take your daughter with me, too,” he said.
Kuonji nodded.
It could make a big difference, even feeding another mouth, he supposed. And Kuonji’s girl showed promise.
“Well,” he hesitated, “of course I’d need to see what the boy thinks of it.”
He turned back to look at the kids as Kuonji grinned toothily and handed him one of the sake cups. The other man assured him, “of course, of course.”
As they watched the kids play-fighting, chasing one another around, Usagi took one of the long leaps she insisted on doing, and caught Ukyō.
Over the distance between where they sat and the small field where the kids were playing, Usagi called out, “now you’re the oni again!”
“O-kayyyy,” Ukyō drawled back, sitting up and leaning forward in an odd way, like she was waiting for something.
And then Usagi kissed her on the cheek.
Genma dropped the cup.
🍥🌙🍥
“It was training, Uncle,” Usagi pouted.
“Yeah, two on one! Ucchan wanted to get better at fighting, so he chased us, and if he tagged one of us, then we chased him,” Ranma explained further.
Genma held back a groan. “And the, err, kiss?”
The kids looked at each other.
“A reward, right?” Ranma asked.
Usagi replied, “yeah, cause we don’t got prize money, and Ucchan’s handsome.”
Ranma nodded firmly.
Genma drew a hand slowly down his face.
He was supposed to be responsible for these kids. He couldn’t let his sister’s daughter turn out….
It wasn’t because he was training her in martial arts, right? He’d seen other women in some of the fights, he’d even had a match against that Chinese girl with the ridiculously fast kicks. She seemed, well, normal. Not like that.
And she’d beat his ass, too.
No, it couldn’t be because of the fighting.
He needed a solution.
“You both like Ukyō, then?” Genma asked Usagi and Ranma. They nodded, and so he asked, “well, then, which do you like better? Ukyō, or okonomiyaki?”
Usagi and Ranma looked at each other again.
Ranma said, “okonomiyaki, I guess?”
And Usagi said, “Ucchan.”
Well, that was that. The boy was more interested in food than kissing girls, at his age.
And the girl…it wasn’t like he could offer her in an arrangement to another girl, after all.
But the cart was worth a lot. Maybe they could—no, he was too recognizable, now. Kuonji could find him at the next match, unless it was completely underground, and there wasn’t really anywhere to leave the kids at those matches.
He’d have to find another solution, and get his son and his niece out of there.
🍥🌙🍥
“You there,” the fanged boy growled, “who are you?”
Ranma and Usagi turned to look.
“Saotome Ranma,” he said, taking a bite out of the yakisoba bread while he spoke.
Mirroring him in eating and uniform, his cousin added, “Tsukino U—dzuki. Udzuki.”
That was close. Ranma needed to get her to practice the cover more, because Pops had been pretty clear that he couldn’t afford to send them to separate schools, and the boy’s school was cheaper.
The other boy looked from one to the other, and seemed confused. “Hold on, are you… like that?”
Ranma looked to Usagi, and back at the boy. Simultaneously, they asked, “like what?”
The boy looked even more upset, turning red. “Y—you know! Like….”
Looking around at the crowd of other boys who seemed distracted by fighting over the remaining bread, he held up both thumbs, and brought them together.
“Like that,” he said.
Ranma thought about it, and didn’t get it.
“Wait, ew,” Usagi blurted out suddenly, and thumped him in the side with her elbow. “It ain’t like that, guy. Ranma’s my cousin. His Pops is looking after me while my Ma—Mom and Pop are in the hospital.”
“Yeah,” Ranma nodded, still a little confused. “But, wait. What ‘like that’ ain’t we like?”
The other boy turned brighter red.
Usagi whispered, “like, boyfriends, Cuz.”
Shuddering at the suggestion, Ranma shook the mere idea out of his head. “Oh, ew. No way. I’m more like your little bro than your cousin at this point.”
She nodded, not as sadly as she might have in the past.
They kept going to visit Aunt Ikuko and Uncle Kenji in the hospital whenever they had a break in training, and he kept bringing them breakfast, but….
Whatever.
“Oh, okay,” the other boy said, walking closer and looking at them funny.
Usagi nodded, still affecting the fake-deep voice in her boy disguise. “Yep.”
“Yeah, definitely not like that,” Ranma agreed, as the unfamiliar boy looked at him as if waiting for something, or trying to say something.
He thought about the possibilities.
Blushing.
Worried that Ranma was dating someone.
Looking really intensely at them both.
It finally clicked, and Ranma leaned in close to the other boy, putting on his best smile to ask, “why, you looking for someone like that?”
🍥🌙🍥
Nursing his bruised cheek and ego, Ranma glared at her. “You don’t gotta laugh so much, U-kun.”
“I can’t help it,” Usagi replied, undoing her gakuran collar. “Whew. Can barely breathe in this thing.”
It was pretty obvious her cousin wasn’t just sulking because he took a hit, though.
She bopped him one-two-three on the shoulder. “Cheer up, sadsack.”
He smiled a little. There was the kid cousin she knew, near as she had to a little bro.
“Whatever,” he said, waving it off. “I know his name now, that’s better luck than you usually have.”
Usagi snorted. “Seriously? Nuh-uh, I’m totally the cute one.”
“Ain’t so,” Ranma replied, preening. “I’ve got the looks in this family, obviously.”
She laughed at the idea.
“Yeah, cuz everyone goes for horsemeat,” she said, getting up and into a ready stance.
“Better than rabbit,” Ranma replied, bouncing to his feet. “We doing this?”
She nodded, and moved.
The kick went high, but only because Ranma went low. As he rose upwards, she planted her hands on his shoulders, pushing him behind her while propelling herself upwards.
To his credit, he turned the momentum around to make his own kick, borrowing a capoeira move they’d picked up from watching one of Unc’s recent opponents. She met the whirlwind with a leap.
After all, the Saotome style was all about controlling the air, and if he was going for denying her the Earth, then she’d keep Ranma from the heavens.
She bounded towards one of the schoolyard trees while Ranma gave chase, bringing her foot up to tap against it. She’d been practicing this one, and as she forced more of her ki into the leg just as her foot hit the branch, the motion caused her to somersault back down with a shout. “MOCHIGINE KUMIAWASE!”
Ranma had time to dodge the enhanced kick with her left foot as it arced down like a mallet being swung. He just barely dodged the right foot that followed it.
And as the motion brought her upright, he didn’t dodge her left fist or her right elbow, catching the first with a block, and the final move in his shoulder as she used the movement to pull inside his range.
“Mochi-Hammer Combination?” Ranma asked, moving back from the blow and checking the motion of his shoulder. “Good one, Cuz.”
“Been practicing it,” she replied, as she hopped from one foot to another. It had been hard to keep him from seeing, but she’d managed by pulling the old ‘girl stuff, alright?’ card.
“It shows,” he agreed, nodding.
Then, his eyes widened, and he dropped his stance, looking like he was about to run.
“Ucchan?”
Usagi whirled around—and caught a kick in the small of her back.
“Not cool, Ranma!” She replied as she spun back to face him. “It’s been years!”
“Musabetsu Kakutō, Saotome-style,” the jerk replied. “First rule’s to use anything against your opponent. You’ve been learning it too.”
It was true, but he didn’t have to rub it in her face.
“Well, yeah,” Usagi replied, tugging loose the buttons on her jacket. “I’m just distracted by this stupid thing, alright?”
“Excuses, excuse—” Ranma began, drifting off again and staring behind her.
Oh no, she wasn’t falling for that again.
“Fool me once,” she said, kicking forward and up again, “shame on—”
As she soared through the air and flipped, Usagi realized that he wasn’t trying to trick her this time.
A crowd of the guys in their class were watching, plus that Hibiki boy.
“Uh-oh,” Usagi said, as she slammed into Ranma upside-down.
From their tangled-up position, she saw the boys come forward, staring.
“Tsukino-kun’s a chick?” One boy with a whole bunch of zits asked.
Another with too-long bangs said, “or, like, he got into a gnarly accident and he’s covering up gross scars?”
“Are they both girls?” Wondered a boy with a perm.
Usagi looked to Ranma, who had gone pale.
“What do we do?”
“I dunno!” Ranma hissed back. “Pops is gonna kill us….”
One of the guys cleared his throat, holding up his hand for attention, causing Usagi to notice he was wearing white gloves.
“Boys, boys, I think it’s obvious what happened here,” he said, walking forward and indicating her and Ranma. “Tsukino-san’s parents wanted a boy, and decided to raise her as one, even giving her a boyish name, having her wear her hair in a masculine style and attend a boys’ school.”
Usagi glanced up at her bangs. She didn’t think that the split ponytail look she’d been going with was that boyish, was it? More, like, 'gender casual'.
“Like Fujinami-senpai,” one boy said.
“Exactly. And now it’s so ingrained in her upbringing that to expose her to the school administration will just cause problems for everyone, us included,” the speaker continued, fixing a headband under his bangs and tossing his own ponytail back in a flourish before he crossed his arms and said, “and that’s why ain’t none of you gonna blab or creep on Tsukino-san, are you?”
There was an immediate chorus of, “no, Class Rep.”
“Good. Now all of ya, get going,” he declared, causing pretty much everyone but Hibiki to run off.
Usagi was so floored that she barely noticed the boy she was just now realizing had been introduced on their arrival as the class representative, as he came over and bent down to offer them both a hand up. The gloves were thick and sturdy fabric, and the hand under it felt strong.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Ranma said as he rose, looking the guy in the eye.
“Listen, like a quarter of the ‘guys’ at this school have the same story,” he said, putting his hands on Ranma and Usagi’s shoulders. There was something resolute in his expression, and something else that she found oddly familiar. “Figure, probably one or two of those boys are the same.”
“Oh,” Usagi said, feeling ashamed that it had come to that. Affecting the boyish ‘boku’ pronouns she’d been practicing, she said, “I’m sorry you had to get involved, Class Rep.”
He shook his head, “now, now, don’tcha worry none about that. It’s just my job, keeping an eye on everyone while we’re in class.”
Then his gloved hand on her shoulder tightened, and from Ranma’s response, the boy had done the same to him, as her cousin blurted out, “hey, what’s—”
“Yeah, during school, I’m just your Class Rep,” the boy went on, his expression darkening as he added, “but after school? Honey, you two are gonna have some explaining to do.”
Without another word, his smile went back to normal as he let go, and walked off, leaving the two of them standing there, staring at his back.
After a moment, Hibiki walked over, looking in the same direction.
“So, I was going to challenge one of you to a fight for messing with me like that,” he said, scratching the back of his head before adding, “but now I gotta wonder….”
“Uh?” Ranma uttered.
Usagi squeaked, “yeah?”
Hibiki Ryōga looked back at them, his cheeks flushing slightly as he turned to Ranma after her, and asked, “what the hell did the two of you do to get a nice guy like Kuonji-san that pissed?”