Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

God, it was dull being a rock.

He hadn’t always been a rock, of course. Hundreds of years ago, he’d been a prince. A prince, but certainly not a prince among men; in fact, he’d been a real whirling bastard, a jerk par excellence. Heavily taxing his impoverished people to finance his own dissolute lifestyle, torturing anyone he took a dislike to; the whole nine yards. Until he’d made the mistake of taking a dislike to a certain sorceress. As a result, he found that his existence now gave new meaning to the phrase “stony silence.”

Not that he was complaining, mind you. The old witch (well, she’d been young and rather cute, actually) had done him a favor. For he was not just an ordinary rock; he was a rock who could grant people’s wishes. And that was his road to redemption: he had to grant two hundred wishes within a thousand years, and he’d be allowed to graduate to a position in the spirit world that was a touch more lively than his current one. That didn’t sound like much of a task, but when people had to pick you up and make a wish while holding you, it made opportunities a little scarce.

And he’d found that as he granted those wishes, as he observed the plight of those he helped, as he brought a little good into those people’s lives, he’d actually developed a conscience, and sympathy for his fellow men. He was becoming a better rock, which he supposed was the point of the whole exercise.

At first, he’d been rather lackluster about granting wishes, and fallen far behind the rate he needed to graduate. But as his heart had softened (in a purely figurative sense, of course), he’d gotten into the spirit of it, and now rather enjoyed the work. He’d been getting consistently good Spiritual Performance Reviews for the last couple of hundred years now. There’d even been talk of halving the time of his penance: time off for good behavior.

And so, when he saw a tall, handsome Japanese boy wearing a hakama and carrying a bokken walking down the path which passed by the bush under which he had spent the last three years, he brightened and got to work. Pick me up… Pick me up… Pick me up… he thought furiously.

The boy was mumbling something about a “foul sorcerer,” and the rock wondered briefly if he’d had a bad run-in, too. He ceased his rantings as he stopped beside the bush. “How odd,” he said. “Suddenly I am taken with the urge to pick up a stone.”

Yes! gloated the rock. Under the bush… under the bush…

The tall boy stooped down, and peered under the bush. Wow, thought the rock, this one’s really susceptible to suggestion. It isn’t usually this easy…

The boy reached under the bush, and stood again, a peculiar-looking black and red stone in his hands. He turned it this way and that. “How unusual! Perhaps I should take it home for display in my personal museum.”

The rock was aghast; he couldn’t grant any wishes in a display case! No, no, make a wish, then put me down. Make a wish, make a wish.

The boy’s eyes lost focus. “Today was truly a dark day for the Blue Thunder of Fuurinkan High School. For the noble act of praising the beauteous pigtailed goddess, I was mocked! That foul sorcerer Saotome has poisoned the minds of the entire student body, for they laughed at me and repeated the vicious lie that the pigtailed girl and Saotome are one and the same.” He snorted. “What a preposterous notion! That such a fair flower of womanhood could be the same person as that evil lout!” He sighed. “I only wish that they could see the truth as I see it.” He placed the stone gently back on the ground and strolled off, seemingly having forgotten it.

The stone grinned mentally; this would be a lot easier than the wishes he sometimes got: no endless riches, ruling over mankind, etc. A piece of cake! He set gleefully to work, tapping into WGIN (Wish Granter’s Information Network). He looked up the dossiers on the people involved… and moaned in horror.

No. Not him. Not that boy. He’d heard the name whispered in terror many times, for many promising afterlife careers had been derailed by Saotome Ranma. And now it looked like his might be another hash mark on that ghastly record.

He now understood why the tall boy had been so easy to influence: he was an idiot. And he had made an idiot’s wish, for the impossible. He had wished for people to see the truth as he saw it, when the truth was something he couldn’t see when it hit him square between the eyes. How could he possibly grant this wish without doing more harm than good?

He ran over his options: he could split Ranma into his male and female halves, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to put the lad back together again once he became two separate people. Besides, Ranma in girl form was hardly “a fair flower of womanhood.” Scratch that. He could engage the entire student body of Fuurinkan High School in a mass delusion to match Kunou’s, but he was sure that would cause more than a few cases of permanent madness. Wouldn’t that look great on his next Performance Review.

He wished fervently that he still had fingernails to bite (too bad he couldn’t grant his own wishes). Come on, he thought, you’re supposed to be able to think outside the box. What I need is for Ranma to be two separate people, a boy and a girl, without splitting him in half. How can I do that?…

Suddenly, he slapped himself (mentally). Of course! He looked up a few more articles on WGIN, and exulted. No one would be harmed by this—not permanently, anyway—and if things went right, he might even be able to do a little good. If he could pull this off, it would be quite a coup. He double-checked everything, metaphorically crossed his fingers, and set things in motion. He relaxed, glowing with pride.

You da rock, man, you da rock.

Ranma weighed this week’s copy of “Shounen Jump” in his hands. “Naaah. It’s just an overnight trip. I’ll be too busy anyway.” He put it back on the dresser.

Akane sat on Ranma’s bed, and watched as he went about the room, collecting items to stuff in his gym bag. She bit her lip. “You’re sure you’ll be back tomorrow?”

Ranma turned. “Yeah.” He smiled. “My birthday’s in two days. I sure ain’t gonna miss that. I’ll be back tomorrow night at the latest.”

Akane nodded and brightened. “That’s right! I’ll be baking a cake for you.”

“Hey, I wanna live past 17, you know!”

Akane glowered. “Very funny! Maybe you should just have your birthday at your cousin’s house instead.” She stared at the floor.

Ranma snorted. “Maybe.” He kept packing, as Akane fumed. He finished, and zipped up the bag. He paused a moment, his hand still on the zipper, and flushed slightly. “But I… wanna have it here.”

Akane looked up, her heart skipping a beat. She just barely caught a glimpse of a shy smile on his face before it disappeared. She looked away again, blushing. Neither said anything.

It had been several weeks since the failed wedding attempt, and they’d been like this the whole time. They’d reached a new stage in their relationship. They couldn’t really pretend indifference to each other any more—not after Jusendou. But neither were they ready to actually progress to open affection. They were in a kind of limbo, each still warily regarding the other, though they pretty much knew how things were going to turn out. They still bickered constantly, but at the same time, glances passed between them, glances that said things they were still too afraid too say out loud.

Tonight, Ranma was packing to go visit his cousin. Since his mother had reentered his life, she’d set about reconnecting him with the rest of his family, and she’d put Ranma in touch with her sister’s son Hirosuke. They were similar ages, and Ranma found that though his cousin had only a passing interest in martial arts, they shared a love of sports in general, and hit it off pretty well. He’d been to visit them in their home in the western suburbs of Tokyo once before, and was spending the night this time. Their junior year at Fuurinkan had just ended, and their senior year was due to start in a couple of weeks, in April. The perfect time for a little trip.

Akane had oscillated between expressing indifference and hovering over him as he packed, and he had wavered between seeming not to care and the urge to say a proper goodbye. After Saffron and the wedding debacle, they were a little reluctant to be out of each other’s sight.

He hefted his gym bag and looked out Akane’s window at the beautiful blue sky; spring was just a few days away by the calendar, but the world apparently couldn’t wait. The weather had been gorgeous the last few days. “I guess I oughta get goin’. I promised to be there for dinner.”

Akane nodded and rose. “I’ll walk you to the station.”

“I ain’t Ryouga, you know.” He’d meant it as a joke, but somehow it hadn’t come out that way.

Akane pursed her lips in anger, and looked away. “Fine. Go by yourself, then.”

Ranma looked like he wanted to say something, but just stood there for a moment, kicking himself mentally. Finally, he turned silently and left.

Akane watched his departing back, and opened her mouth as if to say something… then closed it, and bowed her head. She blew out her breath, and put her head in her hands. She knew—they both knew—that they loved each other, but you certainly wouldn’t know it to look at them.

Mothers escorting their children from the station to the zoo in Ueno Park smiled at the young woman they passed heading the other way. She was carrying a violin case in her right hand, which she swung cheerily back and forth as she walked, and she had a portfolio cradled under her left arm. She wore a full-length dark navy coat against the mid-March chill, and a knit beret perched jauntily on her fiery red hair. The passersby all smiled at her, for she had a huge smile on her own face.

She paused for a moment, taking in the flower beds which were just starting to bloom, the azure sky, the crisp air, the buds getting ready to open on the cherry trees in a few weeks. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Mmmmm… smells like spring…” Saotome Ranko took another look around, sighed happily, and resumed walking.

She was on her way home from her private lesson with Professor Murata of the Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music. The University was on the opposite side of the park from Ueno station, and so she always walked through the park on the way there and the way back. The park was always abustle with people, and this walk was one of her favorite times of the day. Normally, she was only here twice a week, but with school being out she’d been here every day. Professor Murata wanted as much of her time as she could give, and she was more than willing to comply.

Her mood was extra bright, for her 17th birthday was coming up in two days, on Saturday, and today she’d received an early present: a new violin. Professor Murata had told her that someone of her caliber needed to work with an instrument of equal worth, and had presented her with a concert-quality violin, a wonderful instrument that was nearly 150 years old. She had been shocked to hear that it was a counterfeit: an instrument created by the Englishman John Lott, Jr., to be passed off as the work of the great Italian violin maker Giuseppe Guarneri del Gesù. Lott had made a specialty of such counterfeiting. She’d been even more shocked to hear that this fake was worth over 6 million yen, being a magnificent instrument in its own right. Apparently, Lott’s work had transcended mere forgery.

She’d protested mightily, but the professor had waved his hands in dismissal, saying she could pay for the instrument later. The current owner, a former student of the professor’s, had switched to another violin, and was happy to loan this one to her until she could pay for it. The professor’s students seemed to have their own little network within the cozy world of classical music, and looked out for one another. She knew she’d return her senpai’s favor eventually by helping someone else.

She reached the station, and fumbled in her purse for her round trip ticket, feeding it through the automatic gate. Getting a commuter pass wasn’t worth it if she was only here two days a week, and so she simply paid the full fare. Doing that five times a week was a little painful, but school would start again in a couple of weeks and she’d be back to her usual schedule.

She hurried through the crowds to the platform for the Yamanote line, and just managed to sneak onto a train bound for Ikebukuro before the doors closed. It was still mid-afternoon, and rush hour hadn’t started in earnest yet, so she was able to get a seat. As she looked out the window over the streets of Tokyo and watched them flash by, her thoughts drifted back to her birthday.

This would be a very special birthday, for it would be her first birthday in thirteen years as Ranko. Her last birthday as Ranko had been when she was four years old; she’d actually seen it on a video her mother had shown her. In between she’d been Ranma, an identity she had been forced into after a horrible bungle by her father and Happousai had transformed her into a boy when she was four and a half. Discovering her past, and who she really was, had been a harrowing journey, and this birthday would be as much a celebration of that as of the passing of another year.

The train slid into Ikebukuro station, and she disembarked and descended the stairs to the subway platform for the Ikebukuro line. This was her only transfer, and would take her to her destination: Fuurinkan-cho station in Nerima ward. She had to wait some minutes for a train, and when it arrived she found it was standing room only. No matter; it was a short ride. She spent the time thinking about her birthday; how she would spend it with her parents, her three sisters… and her boyfriend. It would be her first birthday with him, too.

She blushed, and smiled. She still couldn’t believe that Hibiki Ryouga, of all people, was the boy she’d fallen in love with. Their relationship was now five months old, and growing stronger all the time. They’d begun to talk seriously about marriage, and had decided to put the commitment off until Ranko had finished her studies under Professor Murata. She had a handicap, having started violin so late in life, and needed to focus all her energies on her studies to catch up. Meanwhile, they had each other, and both were content to wait for the formalities.

The PA system blared “Fuurinkan-cho, Fuurinkan-cho is next,” and Ranko shook herself out of her daydreams. The doors opened, and she stepped out onto the platform, carried along on a sea of commuters. She headed for the stairs and started down. Her eyes caught a man in a station uniform at the bottom, smiling up at her, and she smiled back; Hisa-san was waiting for her, as usual.

He was a Fuurinkan parent who worked here at the station. He was also a classical music buff, and had been there when she had had her first recital at the Fuurinkan talent show last December. Ever since, he’d made a point of greeting her when she passed through the station. When she’d casually mentioned in January that she was having a small recital the next week with some of Professor Murata’s other students, he had shocked her by traveling all the way to the University just to hear her. He’d joked that he was her first groupie, and they’d shared a laugh.

And he always made sure he was near this particular staircase at this time of day, just so he could wave and smile at her as she came home. She thought it was kind of cute.

She was just reaching the bottom of the stairs when she seemed to be enveloped by a blinding flash of light. She was overcome by a wave of vertigo, and felt the world spin around her and away from her. She was falling, falling, and she clutched her violin tightly to her chest even as her portfolio slipped from her grasp…

Suddenly, she was in someone’s arms. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs, and looked up; Hisa-san had caught her. She smiled weakly.

“Easy there, Miss. Are you all right?”

She paused for a moment, then nodded. The odd vertigo had passed. “Yes, Hisa-san, I’m fine. Thank you; I don’t know what came over me.” She looked about for her portfolio, which had her music in it; it lay on the floor a short distance away, and she knelt down to pick it up. She stood up again, to find Hisa-san scratching his head.

“I’m sorry Miss, I must be getting old. You know my name, so I’m sure we’ve met, but I woulda thought I’d remember meeting a girl as pretty as you.” He bowed, embarrassed. “Forgive me.”

Ranko blinked. Was he joking with her? Probably; he had a wry sense of humor. “Ummm… that’s all right, Hisa-san. I’m sure it will come back to you.” She bowed herself. “Thanks again for catching me just now.”

He still looked confused. “You’re very welcome, Miss. You take care, now, OK?” She nodded, and continued on her way.

Her gaze roamed over the crowd in front of her as she tried to decide which exit to head for. Suddenly, she gasped; her eye had stopped on a young man who was walking away from her…

A young man wearing a very familiar outfit: red silk sleeveless Chinese shirt and black pants. She couldn’t see his face, but a black pigtail hung down his back. He was carrying a gym bag. She felt an icy chill crawl up her spine, and her heart started to hammer in her chest.

She transferred her portfolio to her other arm and rubbed her eyes, and when she opened them again she had lost him; he’d disappeared into the crowd. She shook her head. I must have imagined it. I was thinking about the old me on the train, and I saw someone who looked a little like that, and my mind filled in the rest. And I just had that dizzy spell, didn’t I? I must not have eaten enough for lunch or something.

Well, she knew the sure cure for low blood sugar: chocolate. She grinned as she headed for the exit which led to her favorite candy store.

Ranko pressed her nose against the window pane, trying to ignore the growling in her stomach. She couldn’t see much through the soaped-up windows, but she could see enough: the place was empty.

She’d just been here three days ago! How could they have gone out of business so quickly?! She couldn’t see anything inside: the counters, the candy bins, the register—all gone. She looked up; even the sign had been taken down.

“Wow,” she remarked to herself, “I know the economy is bad, but this is ridiculous…” She shook her head and sighed sadly; she’d been looking forward to a chocolate fix. She hoisted her violin again and turned to head home…

And found herself face to face with Sayuri and Yuka, who were staring at her, their mouths making two round little o’s. “Hi guys… what’s with the funny look?” They kept staring and didn’t say anything.

Oh, right, the candy store. They’d been fond of it, too. She tilted her head towards the empty storefront. “Can you believe this? Three days ago they were in business, then poof!” She sighed again, and said wistfully “I really needed some chocolate, too.”

Sayuri and Yuka looked at each other, blinked, and turned back to Ranko. They still didn’t say anything.

Ranko was starting to feel a little intimidated. “Uh, guys? Is something wrong? Are you feeling OK? It’s just a candy store, after all.”

Sayuri swallowed. “Us? Oh… no… no, we’re fine.” She peered closely at Ranko. “How about you? Are you… are you feeling OK?” They seemed to be hanging on Ranko’s answer.

Ranko nodded, smiling. “Never better! You know, I was a little dizzy on the station stairs a couple of minutes ago, but I feel fine now.” She held up her violin case. “Guess what? I got a new violin today! Professor Murata got it for me as a surprise; it’s a top-quality instrument. It’s a hundred and fifty years old! I can’t wait to play it at home tonight for Akane and Mother.” She blushed. “I think I’ll call up Ryouga and ask him if he wants to come over and hear me play it, too.” Her smile turned a little dreamy.

Yuka suddenly leaned heavily on Sayuri’s shoulder. Ranko leaned forward, concerned. “Are you guys sure you’re feeling OK? Yuka-chan, you look like you’re ready to pass out. You’re awfully pale.”

Yuka and Sayuri looked at each other again, then turned back to face her. “I’m fine, really,” said Yuka. “Ummm… you… you haven’t suffered a blow to the head recently, have you?” Sayuri nodded in concurrence.

It was Ranko’s turn to blink. “Of course not! Why would you think that?” She noticed the clock in the window of the jewelry store next door. “Guys, it’s getting a little late, and I really ought to be heading home. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be antisocial.” She turned to leave. “I’ll see you at my birthday party on Saturday! Ja ne!”

Once again, Sayuri and Yuka looked at each other. “Are… are we invited?” asked Sayuri, tentatively.

Ranko paused and turned back, confused. “Of course you’re invited! What a silly question! I sent you invitations, didn’t I? Why wouldn’t I invite two of my closest friends?”

“Oh… I must have forgotten,” said Sayuri, weakly. She seemed to think of something. “Do… do you mind if we walk you home?” Yuka looked at Sayuri and nodded once, emphatically.

Ranko was starting to get an uneasy feeling about this afternoon; her danger sense was being tickled, and the hairs on the back of her neck were starting to stand up. “No… of course not. Isn’t it out of your way, though?”

Sayuri replied “No!”, a little too quickly, and Yuka vigorously shook her head in the negative.

As they turned onto the street where she lived, Ranko wondered how a day that had been going so well could have turned out like this. She’d tried to make small talk with her friends as they walked, but Sayuri and Yuka seemed to alternate between staring at her and looking anywhere but at her. They’d mostly kept silent, and when they did speak Ranko was pretty sure they were just humoring her. They were acting almost like they didn’t know who she was—and yet clearly, they did. She felt less like she was walking with friends than like she was being escorted by guards.

She tried again to strike up a conversation. “Sayuri-chan, how are your piano lessons coming along? I have a professional interest, you know.” She giggled, which caused both the other girls to start, as if she’d snuck up behind them and yelled “Boo!” Ranko sighed.

Sayuri was staring at her. “I’m not taking piano lessons… but I did when I was younger. How… how did you know? I haven’t ever told anyone at Fuurinkan about that.”

Ranko felt a headache coming on. “Sayuri-chan, we took the music course together last term. You’ve been taking piano lessons with Kobayakawa-sensei.”

Sayuri looked like she was getting a headache, too. “Music course?…” She had a blank expression on her face, and turned to Yuka, who shrugged. They clearly had no idea what Ranko was talking about.

Ranko’s danger sense was no longer being tickled; it was screaming at her. Hisa-san hadn’t recognized her; her favorite candy store had vanished; two of her closest friends were acting like she’d just stepped off a flying saucer, and seemed to both know her and not know her. She didn’t know why this was all happening, but she felt a queasy sensation in her stomach that was all too familiar.

Her life was getting weird again.

After Happousai’s spell on her had broken, the chaos and weirdness which had ruled her life had disappeared as well. For the last six months she’d been living a pretty normal life, the kind she’d always wanted to live. She’d been spoiled, lulled into a comfortable sense of security. Apparently, she’d been premature in her complacency.

As they turned in the gate at the Tendou Dojo, Ranko felt a sense of dread come over her. She had the feeling that what had happened so far was only the beginning. She hoped desperately that she was wrong, and this was all a prank, but somehow she doubted it. She’d never been lucky that way.

They paused at the front door. Ranko turned to her two friends, and a wry smile crept onto her face. “I think I can find my way inside.” Her two friends blushed in embarrassment, and for the first time Ranko saw the ghost of a smile pass over Sayuri’s face. “Do you want to come in?”

As she expected, they looked at each other for a moment, then shook their heads. “N-no, thank you,” said Sayuri, “we’ve got to be getting home.”

Yuka looked Ranko over carefully. “I’ll… I’ll call later to see how you’re feeling, OK?”

Ranko smiled; they might be acting strange, but they were clearly concerned for her. “OK.”

The two girls nodded, said “ja ne,” and turned to go.

Ranko called out “bai bai,” and went inside. She didn’t notice that both girls had stopped dead in their tracks.

They looked at each other. “Bai bai?” whispered Yuka.

Ranko hung up her coat, and took off her beret and put it up on the shelf. She took off her loafers and put them away, then stepped up into house slippers. She called out “Tadaima!”, and heard Kasumi’s “O-kaeri nasai.” She wondered what was going to happen next. Maybe everything would be normal, but somehow, she doubted it. She walked down the hall towards the kitchen.

Kasumi heard a familiar voice call out “Tadaima!”, and called out in reply. That’s odd, she thought. He should be on his way to Tama by now. He must have gotten splashed and come back to change. She ducked out of the kitchen, saying “Ranma-kun, what happened? I thought you were…” Her voice trailed off, and her jaw fell open.

Ranma was in her female form, which was not unusual. What was unusual was that she was wearing a teal v-neck top, a long jean skirt, and a heart pendant necklace. Her red hair was unbound, and Kasumi could see an ornament gathering it together into a long train which spilled down her back. The rest of it fell over Ranma’s forehead in neat bangs. Kasumi’s eyes widened when she saw the silver earrings dangling from each of Ranma’s earlobes, and the hosiery visible below the hem of her skirt. She was also carrying a violin case and a portfolio.

Ranma was looking back at her sadly, and said “Oh, Oneechan… not you, too. Why is everyone staring at me today? It’s like none of you have ever seen me before.” Kasumi realized her mouth was still open, and closed it.

Ranma’s face took on a bewildered look, which Kasumi imagined must match her own. “Wait a minute… did you just call me ‘Ranma-kun’?”

Kasumi’s already considerable alarm jumped another notch. She opened her mouth to reply, and realized she had no idea of what to say. She finally managed, “Was… was I not supposed to?” She winced, and wished she’d come up with something better.

Ranma, to her further astonishment, looked hurt. “Oneechan, you haven’t called me that for seven months.” She looked down. “You know my name is Ranko.”

Kasumi swallowed nervously, and decided she’d better play along. “I’m… I’m sorry, Ranko-chan.” Kasumi noticed that Ranma winced at the suffix. That was normal, but she was confused; if Ranma didn’t like “chan”, why was she dressed as a girl and asking to be called Ranko?

Suspicion took form in her mind. “Ran… Ranko-chan… did… did you hit your head on something?”

Ranma stared back at her. “Why is everyone asking me about my head? Sayuri and Yuka asked me the same thing.” She sighed. “No, I didn’t hit my head.” She bit her lip. “I did have a dizzy spell on the stairs at the train station, though. But it only lasted a moment.”

He must have had a spontaneous relapse or something, thought Kasumi. What a bad time for this to happen, just when the two of them are starting to open up to each other. Things are going to get sticky when everyone else comes home, too. She noticed Ranma’s glum expression and decided she’d better do something to defuse the tension. “Ran… ko-chan, would you like to come in and talk over a nice cup of tea?”

She was gratified when Ranma looked up and smiled a tentative smile. “Oneechan, that’s the first sensible thing anyone has said to me since I got off the train today.” Kasumi smiled back.

Then she blinked. Wait a minute… “Oneechan”?

Kasumi regarded the redhead who sat across the dining table from her, clutching a teacup. She scanned the girl for some sign of the boy who was engaged to her little sister, and found none. Ranma’s appearance, body language, and speech were feminine, and Kasumi would not have given her a second thought if she hadn’t known this young lady was really a young man.

She decided to continue to play along with Ranma’s “Ranko” persona for now, rather than confront her with reality. Ranma was clearly deep into this, and right now looked too upset and tense to deal with a frontal assault on her delusions. Kasumi guessed that getting Ranma out of this was going to be a difficult process. She sighed as she realized that that approach would probably go out the window once Akane and Auntie returned, which would be any minute now.

She took another sip of tea. “Ranko-chan, why don’t you tell me about your day? Start from the beginning, and tell me if anything unusual happened.”

Ranko stared into the depths of her teacup, looking for answers but not finding any. “Well, I got up this morning and sparred with Akane and Father like I always do. I made myself a sandwich around 11, and ate it while I chatted with you. Then I headed over to the University.”

Kasumi raised an eyebrow. “The University? You mean Musashi University?”

Ranko bit her lip. It was clear no one had the slightest clue about the details of her life any more. It was eerie; it was like she had been erased from people’s minds, but not completely. She would have suspected the Amazon memory-erasure technique, but she knew her close friend Shampoo wouldn’t do something like that now. Besides, there were too many people involved. “No, Oneechan, the Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music, next to Ueno Park downtown.”

Kasumi blinked; she’d heard of the place. It was the most prestigious fine arts school in Japan, akin to the Juilliard School in New York. “Really? Why did you go there?”

“For my violin lesson with Professor Murata.” She wanted to add “of course,” but it was clear that she couldn’t make any such assumptions today. Maybe volunteering information would help. “I usually leave school a little early twice a week to go there, but since school is out right now I’m going every day.”

Kasumi nodded, and decided to explore Ranma’s sudden study of the violin later. “And after that?”

“I came straight home. The only unusual thing that happened was when I was coming down the stairs at Fuurinkan-cho station. I got very dizzy for a moment, and fell. Hisa-san caught me.”

“Hisa-san?”

“He’s someone I know who works at the station.” She looked down. “He didn’t know who I was, though.” She sighed.

Kasumi was worried; this was far worse than the first time Ranma had thought he was a girl. That had been the only problem then; now, she seemed to be living in a delusional world, one that bore no relationship to reality. This was very serious.

She was about to encourage Ranma to continue when she heard the sound of the front door opening, and two voices calling “Tadaima!” She called “O-kaeri nasai,” and bit her lip; Akane and Auntie were home. She looked back to Ranma again, and blinked; the teenager had her head bowed and her eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Ranko-chan, what’s wrong?”

“Here we go again,” whispered the redhead.

Ranko opened her eyes when she heard the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. She turned to the hallway, and saw her mother and Akane standing there, jaws agape, their shopping parcels lying at their feet. Of course, she thought.

It didn’t take long for Akane’s expression to turn from shock to anger. “What are you doing here? And what on Earth are you doing in that getup?”

Ranko didn’t really want to play along with this, but what choice did she have? She stood up. “What do you mean, ‘getup’? Is there something wrong with my outfit?”

Akane’s mouth moved, but no sounds came out. Nodoka had a mixture of shock and horror on her face.

Akane’s anger grew, and she found her voice. “I mean, what are you doing dressed like a girl? You were going to your cousin’s house!”

Ranko frowned. “What do you mean, ‘dressed like a girl’? How else would I be dressed? And why would I be going to see Hiromi? She lives all the way out in Tama New Town.”

“Your cousin is Hirosuke, not Hiromi! He’s a guy, and so are you!”

Ranko’s face turned ashen. “Wh-what do you mean, I’m a guy? I haven’t been a guy in seven months, you know that! And Hiromi has never been a guy—I wish I’d been so lucky!” Nodoka gasped.

“We’ll just see about that!” yelled Akane. She stalked off into the kitchen, and returned with a kettle.

Ranko eyed the kettle, and sighed. “What do you think that is going to accomplish?”

“This!” said Akane, and poured it over Ranko’s head.

Ranko counted mentally: 1… 2… 3… There was a loud clang as the kettle joined the shopping parcels on the floor. She looked around. The other three women were in shock, even unflappable Kasumi.

“Ranma… your… your curse… what happened?!”

Ranko felt like she was having one of her nightmares, except she seemed to be unable to wake up. “I don’t have a curse, Sis. I haven’t had one since last August, when I became a girl again.”

Suddenly, Nodoka stepped forward swiftly and slapped Ranko across the face. Ranko stared up at her mother in shock and pain.

“Ranma, what is the meaning of this?” fumed her mother. “I expect better from my son!”

A chill ran up Ranko’s spine. “M-mother, I’m not your son, I’m your daughter!”

“Ranma, that is not funny and no way for any son of mine to talk.”

Ranko looked around at everyone’s faces, and finally, everything made sense. The reason they were all acting this way was because… they all thought she was Ranma. A guy. She shivered, and her calm finally fled her. “Mother… I’m a girl. I’m not a guy, I’m a girl. I’m your daughter, not your son!” She looked around again, tears starting to run down her cheeks. “What is wrong with all of you people?”

Nodoka stared wide-eyed at the girl in front of her. Kami-sama… she’s not joking. “Ranma,” she whispered, “what has happened to you?”

Akane gasped. “Kami-sama, it’s happened again!” She turned to Kasumi. “Did he hit his head or something?”

Kasumi shook her head. “No, but he said he had a dizzy spell at the train station.”

He, he, he. Ranko cringed at the pronouns.

Nodoka looked between Akane and Kasumi. “What do you mean, ‘it’s happened again?’”

Akane explained. “It was about seven months ago, Auntie. He hit his head on a rock in the pond, and he thought he was a girl. He snapped out of it when he hit his head again.” Kasumi refrained from adding that Ranma had hit his head on the rock because Akane had punched him into it.

Ranko listened to all of this with wide eyes, her heart pounding. This can’t be happening… 

Nodoka pulled Ranko in a tight hug. “Oh, my poor son. I’m so sorry I slapped you. I didn’t know…” Smothered in her mother’s embrace, Ranko didn’t see Akane’s face light up, nor did she see what was coming…

Akane dispersed her ki-mallet, and watched sadly as the redheaded girl slid limply to the floor. “I’m sorry, Ranma,” she whispered, “but you’ll be yourself again when you wake up.”

Kasumi sighed. Yes, that went about as I expected.

“Waaahhhhh!” wailed Souun. “My future son-in-law thinks he’s a girl! Now the schools will never be joined!”

Nabiki rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything. Complaining about Daddy’s outbursts was about as futile as complaining about the Japanese government.

The whole family was assembled in the common room, including the unconscious redhead ensconced on a futon which Kasumi had thoughtfully fetched for her. Kasumi, Akane, and Auntie Saotome had filled the latecomers in on Ranma’s latest fling with womanhood.

The consensus was that he had had a relapse of his previous episode, but after listening to everything and observing the prone form of the girl in question, something was nagging at Nabiki’s mind. She had the feeling she was missing something.

She ran her eyes over the items which had been in Ranma’s possession. They were arrayed on the table like evidence from a crime scene: a purse, a portfolio, and a violin case. “Oneechan, you say he was different this time?”

Kasumi nodded. “Yes. The last time this happened, he thought he was a girl, and he acted very feminine—too feminine, actually—but otherwise he seemed in touch with reality. This time, he was talking about all these events that never happened. He said he’d been a girl for seven months. He said he was studying the violin with a professor at the Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music.” Nabiki raised an eyebrow in surprise that Ranma even knew the place existed. After all, it had nothing to do with martial arts.

“In fact, he described what he did today, and it didn’t match what we all saw ourselves. He said he left the house at 11, and we all know he was here until just an hour before he came back as a girl.” She frowned. “He also said he wasn’t cursed any more, and that didn’t even make any sense. If he weren’t cursed, he would be a boy, wouldn’t he?”

Nabiki nodded. “What was his behavior like? The last time he was acting ridiculously feminine, wanting to do household chores, flower arranging, that sort of thing. He renounced martial arts. What did he do this time?”

Kasumi tilted her head and thought. “You know, now that you mention it, he was acting… normal. Not overly feminine, just as a normal woman would. And he claimed he’d sparred with Akane and Uncle Saotome this morning, and that he did it regularly.”

Nabiki’s intuition was tickled even more, and she frowned. Ranma was generally clueless about women, and typically came across as a stereotype when he tried to pose as one. That had been just as true when he’d believed himself to be one. Why would he act like a normal woman?

Akane offered, “Maybe when his curse got locked, the strain pushed him into a relapse?”

Nabiki shook her head. “That didn’t happen with Herb.” She found her eyes drawn back to Ranma. “Maybe whoever locked him as a girl brainwashed him or something.” She frowned; that just didn’t sound right to her. She had the feeling something was staring her in the face, and she was missing it. She wandered over to the table, and fingered the violin case.

“Nabiki,” chided Kasumi, “you shouldn’t rifle other people’s belongings.”

Nabiki hesitated. “If we’re going to figure out what’s going on here, we have to look at everything.” She opened the case, and blinked at the violin inside; it looked like a fine instrument. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands. A label inside caught her attention, and she held it up to the light. “del Gesù…” she read aloud. She shrugged; the name didn’t mean anything to her. Maybe she’d look it up later.

Suddenly, there was a moan from the futon, and Nabiki put the violin back in the case, closed it, and turned to look, as did everyone else.

Nodoka went over and stroked Ranma’s forehead. “How are you feeling, Dear?”

“Mama… I had this awful nightmare… everyone thought I was supposed to be a boy, even you!” Ranma shuddered, and a sigh ran through the room. Akane bowed her head in frustration. “And I have a headache…” Akane’s face turned crimson.

Nodoka and Kasumi looked at each other, and Kasumi shook her head. Nodoka nodded in understanding. “Why don’t you sit up, Dear, and we’ll talk about it.” Kasumi hurried into the kitchen.

Ranma sat up with her mother’s assistance, and Kasumi returned with some aspirin and a glass of water. The redhead smiled. “Thank you, Oneechan…” She downed the painkiller.

She looked around at her family, and noted their expressions. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?” She sighed.

Nodoka put an arm around her. “No, Dear, but let’s try to figure out what’s going on, shall we?” She glanced at Akane. “Calmly.” Akane blushed again.

She turned back to the girl she was holding. “You say you’ve been a girl for seven months? So you were a boy before that?”

Ranko bit her lip; it looked like she was out of synch with everyone else, and this kind of interrogation was probably the best way to sort things out. “Well, yes and no. I had a boy’s body, and I thought I was a boy, but I never liked it, and when I found out I was really a girl I realized that I was happier this way.”

“And how did you know you were really a girl, Dear?”

“You told me, Mother. When we met again, you told me I was a girl. You showed me photographs and videos from when I was a little girl; you showed me my birth certificate. And then I remembered being a girl myself.” She sighed; that had been painful.

Everyone was staring at her in shock. “You mean, you were a girl when you were born?!” asked Akane.

Ranko nodded. “Yes. My name is Ranko.” She looked around. “Your… Ranma was born a boy, wasn’t he?” Several people nodded, and Ranko shivered slightly.

“If you were a girl, then how could you have been a boy? What happened?”

“Well, when I was four and a half, Father and Uncle Tendou got really drunk one night. Since neither of them had a son, and they kind of wished they did, they thought of going to ask Happousai if there was anything he could do. He said he could help if they each brought him a daughter, and they were too drunk to realize what that meant. Uncle Tendou never made it back with Akane, but Father took me to Happousai, and he turned me into a boy using a magic spell.” She fumed. “A really bad magic spell.”

She shook her head. “Anyway, when Father sobered up and realized what had happened, he was too scared to go home and face Mother, so he ran away with me and raised me as ‘Ranma.’ He looked for twelve years for a way to fix things up, and when he found out about Jusenkyou he took me there.”

Suddenly, everyone’s gaze was on Genma. He shrank from the hostile stares, and said, “Hey, I had a son, not a daughter! I don’t know what she’s talking about.” Everyone blinked and nodded.

Nabiki continued the questioning. “So when you found out you were born a girl, you just became one again?”

Ranko lowered her head and whispered, “No.” She paused for a moment. “It was really hard. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I didn’t like being a boy, but it was all I knew. I was terrified.” She sighed and looked up again. “But it was the right thing to do. I’m much happier now.”

“What about your curse?” asked Akane. “Why is it locked?”

Ranko shook her head. “I told you, it’s not locked. It’s gone. While I was trying out being a girl to see if I liked it, Cologne locked my curse for me with some kind of magic water she had. It was from something called a Chi… Chiisui…”

“Chiisuiton,” whispered Akane.

Ranko nodded. “That was it. It turns out Happousai had used a really cheesy spell, and the extra magic made it fall apart. When that happened, my Jusenkyou curse disappeared, too. I’m just a normal girl again. Cologne said it would have happened anyway just from the Nyanniichuan, but it would have taken longer.”

Akane fumed. “So you were born a girl, but you got turned into a boy, but then you fell in the Nyanniichuan and were cursed, but then you turned back into a girl all the time? What a ridiculous story!”

Ranko shrugged. “It’s what happened.”

Nabiki bit her lip. Either Ranma was trapped in an elaborate delusion, or… she was telling the truth. The last time Ranma had thought he was a girl, he hadn’t even worried about how to explain it. He didn’t strike Nabiki as the type to invent a fantasy world like this. Also, it was a complex story; too complex. But what else could it be but a delusion? What Ranma was saying didn’t match the facts as she and several others knew them. She scanned Ranma’s face, and again had the strong feeling she was missing something, something painfully obvious.

Kasumi noticed the clock. “Oh my, look at the time! I haven’t even started dinner!”

Nodoka smiled. “We’ve been busy, Dear. Why don’t we just order something in?”

Kasumi pondered that. “Maybe some ramen from the Nekohanten?”

Nabiki watched as Ranma winced at the name, and tugged nervously at her earlobe. Suddenly, she gasped.

All eyes turned to her. “What is it, Oneechan?” asked Akane.

Nabiki didn’t answer but walked over and knelt next to… the redheaded girl. “Ranko… would you mind pulling your hair back so I can look at something?”

Ranko eyed her doubtfully. “I guess not…” She pulled her hair aside.

Nabiki examined Ranko’s earlobes. “When did you get your ears pierced?”

Ranko looked bewildered. “Last September. Why?”

Nabiki turned to Akane. “Were Ranma’s ears pierced this morning?”

Akane’s jaw fell open, and she shook her head. Nodoka and Kasumi gasped. Nabiki turned her gaze back to Ranko’s earlobes, and the clean, completely healed holes from which her earrings dangled.

Ranko sat at the table, quietly eating her ramen, and trying hard to ignore the stares of the rest of the family. Nabiki’s observation about her pierced ears had generated a torrent of questions, but Kasumi had insisted firmly that they eat first. Shampoo had delivered dinner, while Ranko was hiding upstairs. The Chinese girl had inquired after her Airen and had been told, truthfully, that he’d left that afternoon for an overnight trip to his cousin’s. Nabiki had thought to order several extra bowls rather than just one, to avoid arousing Shampoo’s suspicions, and they’d explained that everyone was really hungry.

Of course, Ranko didn’t realize that everyone was staring at her because of the neat, polite way she was eating. Well, as neat and polite as you can be eating ramen.

After the dishes were cleared, Nabiki asked “Ranko, do you have any other evidence of your story with you? Anything we could look at?”

Ranko thought for a moment, then nodded. She fetched her purse, and started looking through it. She pulled a card out and handed it to Nabiki.

It was a student ID, from the Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music. It had the name Saotome Ranko on it, the address of the Tendou Dojo, and a photograph of the young lady sitting in front of her. There was a little box for the gender, and it had the Japanese character for “female.” Nabiki felt a little tingle of uneasiness. “Anything else?”

Ranko pulled out a photo wallet, and handed it to Nabiki. Nabiki’s eyes bugged out as she looked through the pictures. Most of them had Ranko in them, together with… all of them. Her heart pounded as she stared at a photograph of her, Kasumi, Akane, and Ranko, all standing together, and all smiling. A photograph Nabiki knew had never been taken. And she recognized that most of these photographs had been taken with her own camera. By her. They were composed in the way she tended to take photographs.

She came to another photograph and gave a little gasp. Everyone looked at her, concerned. “What is it, Oneechan?” asked Akane.

Nabiki tried desperately to school her features. “It’s just these pictures. They’re disconcerting.”

Suspicion clouded Akane’s face. “Let me see them!”

Nabiki tried to think of a dodge, but couldn’t. She winced as she handed over the wallet. This was not going to be pretty.

Akane flipped through the photographs, her jaw hanging open, then suddenly she gasped as well, and sank to her knees. Her face was pale, and she was trembling. “How could you…” she whispered.

Ranko’s danger sense was tingling again. “How could I what?”

Akane handed the open wallet to Ranko, her thumb on the photo in question. Ranko looked, and couldn’t help smiling. It was a photograph Nabiki had taken a few weeks ago, of her together with Ryouga. She had her head leaning on his shoulder, and it was a really beautiful picture…

Oh.

She turned back to Akane, who had tears in her eyes. She tried a smile. “Sis, you have to remember, I’m a girl. Is it really a surprise for me to have a boyfriend?” Everyone gasped; Genma was white as a sheet, and Souun’s mouth was opening and closing. Tears started running down Akane’s cheeks.

“Sis, what’s wrong? Why is this upsetting you so much?”

“But… but what about us?”

Ranko was confused. “Us? We’re still sisters, just like we’ve always been.”

“Sisters?!”

Ranko nodded, and took the heart pendant of her necklace in her hand. She opened it, and held it up for Akane to see. Akane noticed the tiny photograph inside, and moved closer to peer at it.

There were two little girls, who looked to be about four years old. They had their arms around each other and their cheeks were pressed together. They were grinning, mugging a bit for the camera. Akane recognized herself from her baby pictures. The other girl was a redhead—the redheaded girl who was sitting in front of her right now. That’s me… and her, too… but it can’t be! This never happened!

Akane wanted to take her eyes off the photo, but couldn’t. The love between the two little girls was more than obvious, but… the picture was impossible! How could they be sisters? She tried to find some flaw, to tear apart this disturbing scenario. “How can you say we’re sisters? We have different parents.”

Ranko nodded. “I know. We aren’t sisters by blood, but we were raised together and that’s how I feel about you.” She looked to the older Tendou sisters and smiled uncertainly. “It’s the way I feel about Kasumi-neechan and Nabiki-neechan, too.” She looked back to Akane. “My mother and Kasumi-neechan say that you and I have always been like twins.”

Akane felt a wave of horror rise up. She shook her head violently. “No! I don’t want to be your sister! I’m not your sister! I’m your fiancée!” Her temper erupted even as tears streamed down her face. “You’re a guy, not a girl! You can’t be! If you’re a girl, then… then we…”

Ranko’s eyes widened. Akane… wanted the engagement? Was in love with her, rather than loving her as a sister? She shivered and felt her stomach churn. It’s possible. To her, I’m a guy. “Sis… I…”

“Don’t call me that!” yelled Akane. She turned and ran upstairs.

Ranko stared after her. Her closest friend, her sister, her twin… now thought of her as a man. A man she was in love with. “Akane…” she whispered, and tears started to stream down her own cheeks. Their feelings for each other no longer fit together, and that was pushing them apart.

Shell-shocked, Nodoka picked up the wallet from where it had fallen, and found the offending photograph. Her mind reeled somewhat, but on top of everything else it was just one more thing. She observed the girl who was kneeling in front of her, tears running silently down her face, and sighed. This girl wasn’t her son, that much was clear… but she knew what she had to do. She put her arm around Ranko. “It’s all right, Dear, we’ll figure this out somehow.”

With Nodoka’s embrace, the frustration, fear, and confusion Ranko had been buffeted with all day finally rose up all at once and overwhelmed her. “Mother… this is all just too much… my own family doesn’t even know who I am… and Akane…” She started to cry in earnest, and buried her face in her mother’s shoulder. Nodoka wondered as she held and comforted the daughter she’d never had. Everyone else watched in silence.

After a time, Ranko sighed, and her mother released her. She gathered her photos and her student ID and put them back in her purse. She looked around the room at her family; they all appeared to be in shock, to one degree or another. “I… I really need to unwind. Would you all mind if I practiced my violin?”

Everyone looked blankly at one another, then shook their heads. Ranko went to her violin case, opened it, and took out her instrument. She started to tune it, plucking the strings and listening as she turned the pegs. She looked up briefly, and noted wryly that she had a rapt audience, even though she hadn’t played a note yet.

A thought occurred to Nabiki. “Ranko, I looked at your violin earlier, while you were knocked out. It says ‘del Gesù’ on the inside. Is that who made it?”

Ranko laughed. “Good grief, no. I could never afford one of those, they cost a king’s ransom. They’re second only to ones made by Stradivari. This is a fake. It’s a counterfeit del Gesù, made in the nineteenth century. My professor gave it to me today. It’s on loan, and I’ll have to pay for it eventually.”

Nabiki smiled. “It must be a lot cheaper than the real thing.” Something Ranko had said was nagging at her, but she wasn’t sure what it was.

Ranko nodded. “Much cheaper. It’s only worth about six million yen.” Ranko turned her attention back to her violin, and didn’t notice that Nabiki and Genma were both rigid.

“That much, for a counterfeit?!” asked her mother.

Ranko nodded. “It’s still an excellent violin.”

“But how will you ever pay for it?”

Ranko blushed. “Professor Murata says I won’t have any trouble.” She ran over her pieces in her mind. She should really work on her new assignments, but she was too stressed out. She didn’t want to stumble over the music, she wanted to flow through it so she could regain her equilibrium. She’d get back to the new stuff tomorrow.

She smiled, for she knew what she wanted to play. After she had played a small part of the Bach Partita in E Major at the school talent show, Professor Murata had wanted to move on to other things, but Ranko hadn’t been content with just the three minutes. She’d pestered the professor to let her learn the whole Partita, and he’d agreed. She knew it by heart, and liked to play it when she needed to relax. She lifted her instrument to her chin, raised her bow, and began.

Akane was sulking in her room when beautiful violin music began drifting up from downstairs. What a stupid time to put on a CD, she thought. She had to admit it sounded awfully nice, though. Almost like it was a live performance, rather than a recording…

Suddenly, she gasped, and raced out her door and down the stairs. She skidded to a halt outside the family room, her eyes bugging out. The source of the music she was hearing, the music she had thought was a CD, was Ranko, who was playing her violin. Everyone was watching her, their jaws hanging open, even Nabiki. Akane realized her jaw was hanging open, too.

Ranko was not just playing her violin, she was playing it expertly, beautifully… exquisitely. Her eyes were closed, and emotions flashed across her face as she swayed to and fro, her arms and hands flying.

No one moved for the twenty minutes it took Ranko to finish her piece.

Finally, she lowered her bow and her violin, and smiled a huge smile. Her playing had lifted her spirits, as it always did. And this new violin was wonderful… she’d managed nuances in the Partita that she hadn’t been able to pull off before.

Akane whispered, “You’re not Ranma, are you? You can’t be.”

Ranko turned around. “Well… I guess not. Not the way you think of Ranma.”

Nodoka found her heart bursting with pride, even though this girl wasn’t the child she knew. “That was beautiful, Dear. Why, you could play professionally!”

Ranko nodded. “I intend to. I’ll be going to the University full time after I graduate from high school.” Her shoulders sagged. “Assuming Professor Murata even remembers who I am.”

Genma swallowed. “But aren’t you going to be a martial arts sensei? How can you do both?”

Ranko winced; this hadn’t been fun the first time. “Father… I had to choose between dedicating my life to martial arts… or to the violin. I still practice the Art, but my violin is more important to me.” Genma stared in disbelief.

Akane shook her head. “You’re not Ranma. Ranma would never give up martial arts. Never.”

Ranko bit her lip and didn’t reply.

“How many years have you been studying, Ranko?” asked Nabiki.

Ranko blushed. “I only started studying in September.” Everyone’s jaws dropped again.

Nabiki boggled. “You picked all that up in six months?!”

Ranko blushed again. “I’ve always been a fast learner. And actually, I was able to adapt my martial arts skills and the Amazon techniques Cologne taught me.” She smiled. “It is ‘Anything Goes,’ after all.”

Akane stared in wonder. “You are Ranma.” She shook her head. “Even though you’re not.”

Ranko nodded.

“Then what happened? How did the Ranma we know become you?”

Ranko slowly shook her head. “I don’t know. To me, I’ve been me all along. To me, it’s everyone else who has changed.”

Nabiki’s brow furrowed, and then her eyes widened. That was it; that was what was bothering her. “Maybe the Ranma we know didn’t become Ranko.”

Akane blinked. “What do you mean, Oneechan?”

“This has been bugging me for a while. Ranko has a history, memories. She has skills Ranma didn’t have, like playing the violin.” She grinned. “And knowing how to coordinate an outfit.” Everyone laughed. “She even has a violin her professor gave her. If someone or something turned our Ranma into her, why would she have this prefabricated life? What’s the point? She’d just be our Ranma, but a girl.” She turned to Ranko. “Did everything seem normal to you earlier today? At the University?”

Ranko tilted her head and thought. “Everything was fine this morning. I sparred with Akane and Father. After I washed up and got dressed I came into the kitchen to make a sandwich, and I ate that while Kasumi-neechan was making lunch for everyone else, and we had a nice chat.” Everyone looked at each other; it was eerie, hearing Ranko describe things they didn’t remember in such a matter-of-fact tone.

“After that I went to the University. Things were still normal then. I had my lesson, and Professor Murata gave me my new violin. After that I started home.”

“What’s the first thing you remember that seemed out of place?”

“I think it was when Hisa-san caught me after my dizzy spell, and didn’t recognize me.”

Nabiki nodded. “I want you to tell me every detail you can remember leading up to that.”

Ranko furrowed her brow. “Well, I got off the train. I headed for the stairs, and started down. I saw Hisa-san at the bottom, and he smiled at me…” she trailed off. “He smiled at me… He knew who I was, and he smiled at me like he always does! When I was at the top of the stairs. When he caught me after my dizzy spell, he didn’t know who I was!”

Nabiki leaned forward, intent. “Describe it for me. Coming down the staircase, and your dizzy spell.” Everyone hung on Ranko’s answer.

“I was coming down… and, all of a sudden, there was this bright light all around me, and I couldn’t see anything. Everything started to spin around me; it was like the whole world was spinning. Then I was falling… falling down, and away.”

“Away from what?”

“I don’t know. Just… away.” She bit her lip. “Then Hisa-san caught me.”

“And now he didn’t know who you were.” Ranko nodded.

Nabiki steepled her hands over her mouth and thought. “I don’t think Ranma turned into Ranko. I think Ranko came here from… somewhere else. Some sort of parallel world. It just doesn’t make sense that Ranma would turn into Ranko, complete with all these memories, skills, and a detailed, intricate history.”

Ranko put her head in her hands. Her family… the boy she loved… would she ever see them again? The people here were close analogues, but they weren’t hers. This Akane didn’t love her as a sister; instead, she found her disturbing. This Nodoka and Genma had a son. And Ryouga… she shuddered. She could imagine what his feelings would be towards a male Ranma. She’d experienced them. “Will I be able to get home? Everyone who knows me and loves me as me is there, not here.” Kasumi and Nodoka exchanged glances.

Akane drew in her breath sharply. “And what about Ranma? Our Ranma? Where did he go? Did he go to Ranko’s world when she came here?” Her eyes became teary. “Will I ever see him again? Where is he?”

Kasumi offered, “Maybe he’s at his cousin’s house.”

Akane snorted. “Oneechan, we’re talking about interdimensional travel here. Ranma wouldn’t…” she trailed off, and everyone looked at one another, jaws agape.

Nabiki was kicking herself mentally, over and over again. “Of course. They were expecting him. They would have called if he didn’t show up!” Everyone nodded.

“What?” asked Ranko.

Nabiki was still looking chagrined. “Ranma—our Ranma—went to his cousin’s house in Tama New Town. His cousin Hirosuke.” Ranko’s eyes bulged slightly. “He must have gone through the train station about the time…” she trailed off; Ranko’s face was pale. “Ranko?”

She said faintly, “I know. I saw him.”

Everyone’s eyes were on Nodoka as she held the telephone to her ear, waiting for an answer. She drummed her fingers impatiently. Suddenly, her eyes focused. “Oneechan? It’s me, Nodoka.” Her eyes widened. “He did? Yes, he has a big appetite.” Everyone sighed in relief. “Could you? I’d… I’d like to speak to him.” Akane’s eyes were glued to the telephone receiver.

Suddenly, Nodoka sagged and closed her eyes, a smile on her face. “Hello Dear… No, I just wanted to make sure you made it there safely.” She laughed. “Yes, I know I shouldn’t worry about you taking a train ride.” Her eyes found Akane, who was still staring. “I think someone else would like to speak to you.”

Akane surged to her feet and rushed over, and Nodoka handed her the receiver. She nearly dropped it in her haste, but managed to get it to her ear. “Hello?”

The voice she longed to hear came from the other end. “Hey, Akane. How’s it goin’?”

Akane smiled, and tears came to her eyes. “Wonderful. Just wonderful.”

There was a long pause. “Y’know… this afternoon… it didn’t come out the way I meant. I’m sorry ’bout that.”

Akane shook her head. “It’s OK.” Her voice broke a little.

“Hey, you OK? You sound a little wound up.”

“I’m fine, now. I… I’m just glad to hear your voice.”

“You sound like I took a trip to the moon or somethin’. I’m just at Hirosuke’s house.” Akane could almost hear the grin on the other side. “Don’t tell me you were worried about me?”

Akane huffed. “Of course not!”

“Then how come you were so glad to hear my voice?”

Akane scowled. “I just wanted to see how your evening was going!”

“Yeah, right.”

“Baka!” She slammed the phone down.

“Well,” said Nabiki drily, “I see everything is normal.”

Akane sighed. “At least he’s OK.” She sagged. “I was so worried, and all for nothing! He’s right where he should be… and he’s not a girl.” There was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the family.

Akane shook her head. “What an evening! I’m glad everything turned out OK.”

There was a sniffle, and suddenly, all eyes turned to the redhead sitting in the corner, staring at the floor. She was kneeling with her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her shoulders hunched. “Yeah. Everything is great.” Tears started to drip slowly down her cheeks. “Just peachy.”

Akane found herself staring at the other girl. When she had thought Ranko was Ranma, Akane had been frightened that Ranma had become lost in his curse. Now, Ranko was something more frightening still: another Ranma, a bizarre doppelgänger. One who was a real girl—had been born a girl—rather than just cursed to turn into one. Something about that idea gave Akane the creeps. And that made her feel horribly guilty.

Nodoka sighed. Even though she knew where her son was, even though she knew that Ranko was not really her child, her heart had other notions. It told her that this girl was hers, and she couldn’t ignore that. She went and knelt by Ranko, and put an arm around her.

“I’m sure we’ll find a way to get you home, Dear. And if the worst comes to pass and we can’t… I promise, you will have a mother, at least.” Ranko looked up at her mother, and smiled.

Nodoka gave Ranko another squeeze, which was gratefully accepted. “It’s been a long evening. I think we should all go to bed.”

In a small voice, Ranko asked, “Where am I going to sleep?”

Kasumi smiled. “Why don’t we put you in with Akane?”

Akane shrieked “What?!,” then blushed in embarrassment.

Ranko cringed. She hadn’t realized just how much her presence was bothering Akane. Her heart sank. Akane was an anchor in her life, someone she had come to depend on. It sounded like she couldn’t count on that any more.

Kasumi looked back and forth between Akane and Ranko, confused. “But Akane, she’s a girl. And she can’t sleep in Ranma’s room, since he’ll be back tomorrow.”

Akane and Ranko stared at each other, and Akane could read the hurt on Ranko’s face. The redhead bit her lip.“It’s OK. I… I can just roll out a futon in the Dojo or something.” She looked down, and Akane’s heart lurched.

Again, she felt horribly guilty, even as she felt horribly uncomfortable. “No… no, that’s OK.” She paused for a long moment. “You can sleep with me.”

Ranko tried a tentative smile. “Thanks, Sis.” Akane winced, and Ranko’s smile faded. She turned to Kasumi with a quiet sigh. “Oneechan?”

“Mmmm?”

“I only have the clothes I’m wearing. I don’t have anything to wear to bed, or tomorrow. Akane is the closest to my size, but her clothes don’t fit quite right. Of course, R-ranma’s girl form is my size, but he’s a real b-boy, not like I was.” She shivered; the very concept made her queasy. She laughed, a little nervously. “I’m sure he doesn’t have any female clothing!”

There was a deafening silence.

Ranko looked around, confused. “What?”

“That much?”

Ranko looked over the array of boxes in Ranma’s closet, somewhat stunned. “What does he need all this for if he’s a guy?! I mean, I wanted to be a girl, and I had less than this!”

The other women in the family, who were kneeling around her, all looked at each other in varying degrees of discomfort. Nodoka cleared her throat. “Well… part of it is my fault. Ranma didn’t want me to know he was cursed, and so he pretended to be ‘Tendou Ranko’ whenever I came to visit.” She smiled at the irony; there was a genuine Ranko sitting in front of her right now.

Unbidden, feelings that had been dormant for months bubbled to the surface again, and Nodoka firmly pushed them back down. She hoped she could keep them there; it would not be a good idea to get too attached to this girl if she were going to go home. It helped a little to know that Ranko would be going home to another version of Nodoka herself, one who loved her daughter.

She tried to recover her train of thought. “Anyway, I always thought ‘Ranko’ was too much of a tomboy, and I kept dragging her out shopping to try to get her to dress more like a lady.” She laughed. “Naturally, ‘she’ wasn’t too keen on the idea.” She nodded at the boxes. “Most of these are things I bought that couldn’t be returned.”

Ranko nodded slowly. “Oh, I see. That never happened to me, of course. I mean, you took me shopping after I decided to try out being a girl, but I wanted to go, and I actually needed the clothes.” She frowned. “Why didn’t Ranma want you to know about his curse? Was he that embarrassed? It seems a little extreme to hide from your own mother.”

Again the women all looked at each other, while Ranko wondered what family problem she had put her foot in. Just then, the phone rang, and Kasumi hurried downstairs to get it.

Nodoka used the distraction to choose her words carefully. “Well, he didn’t want me to think he wasn’t manly. It was very… important to both of us.” Ranko saw Nabiki roll her eyes, and decided not to press further.

She looked over the boxes again. “First things first… do you know if he had any girl’s pajamas?”

Nodoka shook her head. “If he does, he doesn’t wear them. I have to admit I don’t quite remember everything we bought.” She laughed, a little embarrassed.

Ranko nodded slowly. “Well, there’s only six or seven boxes here. It shouldn’t take too long to look.” She took the closest box, opened it, and pulled out… a translucent baby doll nightie.

She blushed furiously. “Ummmm… Mother… did you buy him this?” Nodoka shook her head wordlessly.

Akane quickly piped up “That’s for when he needs to lure Happousai.”

Ranko smiled in relief. “Oh, so this is his ‘Happousai collection.’ I had one of those, too, when I was Ranma.” She rummaged briefly through the box. “Yeah, I have some of the same stuff in mine. I don’t use it any more; once I started thinking of my girl body as ‘me’, I actually developed a sense of feminine modesty.” She grinned, and Akane smiled wanly, even as she felt a chill.

Ranko closed up the box. “I don’t want to wear any of this even just to bed.” Her cheeks turned slightly pink. “I’m saving my ‘Happousai collection’ for my honeymoon.” She smiled softly, and the other women’s eyes glazed over slightly.

At that moment, Kasumi returned with the phone. “Akane, it’s Yuka-chan. She was calling to check up on… Ranma. I didn’t know if you wanted to tell her what’s going on.”

Akane and Ranko glanced at each other, and Ranko shrugged. “They both saw me. I think it’s better to tell them what’s going on than have them try to guess. We can at least ask them to keep it quiet.” Akane nodded, and Kasumi passed her the handset.

“Hello, Yuka-chan… Ummm, yes, actually… believe it or not, that wasn’t Ranma… No, I am not trying to pull a fast one… She’s kind of another Ranma, from a parallel world, except she’s really a girl. Her name is Ranko… I do see your point, but after everything that’s gone on around here for the past year, can you really say that?… Yes, I know… Yes, she’s still here. We still have to figure out how to get her back where she belongs… I don’t know, let me ask her.” She lowered the handset. “Yuka wants to come over and meet you tomorrow. And apologize.” Ranko nodded uncertainly. “Yuka-chan? She says OK… OK, see you then.” She hung up, and put the phone down. “She’ll be over around lunch time.” Ranko nodded, and turned back to the boxes.

Akane looked away to hide her shame. Her friend Yuka was being nicer to Ranko than she was herself. She couldn’t help herself; she loved Ranma, loved him deeply in a romantic way, and consequently she found she didn’t quite know how to deal with Ranko.

Akane had spent a year with Ranma, a very intense year, and she had come to know many different aspects of the man, all the little backwaters and byways of his character. As a result, she could recognize a lot of Ranma in Ranko, and that confused her terribly. One moment, Ranko would say or do something that reminded her of Ranma, and the next, she’d be as much a girl as Akane or any of her friends. To Akane, it was a very disturbing mixture.

Kasumi was staring at the phone on the floor. “Auntie, Akane… I don’t think either of you told Ranma what is going on. It’s really too late to call now… we’d better call in the morning, before he heads home.”

Nodoka nodded. “Yes, Dear, I’ll take care of it.”

Suddenly there was a cry of triumph from the redhead. “Luckeeee! Just what I was looking for.” She pulled out a pair of green pajamas with satin trim. “Oh, this is just like my favorite pair back home!” She hugged the pajamas to her, eyes closed, as if they were a long-lost friend. Akane felt dizzy.

Ranko stood up, still clutching the pajamas. “I’ll look through the rest tomorrow morning for something to wear. I don’t want to keep everyone up.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I need a toothbrush, too, and… oh, do any of you have a pair of studs I can borrow?” She tugged at her earrings. “I can’t wear these to bed, and I can’t sleep without earrings yet.”

Akane said, a little weakly, “I think I have a pair I can loan you.”

Ranko beamed. “Thanks, Sis!” Akane winced, and Ranko’s smile vanished. “Oops. I keep forgetting. I’m sorry about that.” Akane winced again.

Ranko peered at her. “Are you OK? You seem a little wound up.”

Akane closed her eyes and sighed.

Kasumi paused at the door to the bath. “Ranko-chan is our guest. She should go first.” Nabiki and Akane exchanged glances, sighed, and nodded.

Ranko shook her head. “Oneechan, don’t be silly! It’s late enough already. The tub is plenty big enough for all of us.” She smiled.

Her smile faded as she looked around at the open jaws of the Tendou sisters. “Is that a problem?”

Nabiki managed to find her voice first. “You… you want to bathe with us?”

Ranko shrank somewhat from the intensity of Nabiki’s response. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I was only saying that I don’t mind.”

Akane boggled. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course not! I’m a girl, why should I?” She examined the bewildered faces looking back at her. “Just which locker room do you think I use at school?”

The Tendou sisters’ jaws dropped again. Ranko looked around once more, sighed, and went inside.

After a moment, Nabiki shrugged. “Works for me. I want to get to bed.” Kasumi nodded, and they both followed Ranko in. Akane was left standing in the hall by herself.

She’s a girl. She’s a girl all the time. Of course she bathes with other girls! She pursed her lips. But… but she’s Ranma. And… I don’t want Ranma to… to… see me.

Her mind continued to chase its own tail in this fashion for a minute or two, until finally she shook her head violently. I’m being an idiot. Determination slowly settled over her features, and she made her way inside. After dropping her clothes in the laundry, she proceeded into the bath proper. She found her sisters washing their hair, and Ranko already in the tub. She was leaning back with her eyes closed, a neutral expression on her face. She looked like she was trying to relax, and having mixed success.

Although Akane had seen Ranma in female form in a hot bath once before, when Herb had locked his curse, it was still a rare sight, and more than a bit unnerving. Knowing that this wasn’t her Ranma didn’t really lessen that. It was hard to look at this petite redhead, whom she knew so well, and not see her fiancé. Maybe when Ranma came home tomorrow and she saw them side by side, she’d be able to sort this all out. She fervently hoped so.

She went to a stool and started to wash. She heard Ranko’s voice from behind her. “I’m glad you decided not to wait, Sis.” There was a pause. “Sorry, Akane. I keep forgetting.”

Akane’s eyes were squeezed shut against her shampoo. “It’s all right. I understand, I guess.” She made quick work of her short hair, and rinsed off. She turned around to find Ranko observing her quietly, a serious expression on her face. Nabiki had already joined her in the tub, while Kasumi was still working on her hair.

Akane felt a little unnerved by Ranko’s examination of her. “What is it?”

Ranko shook her head. “I’ve done this so many times. Taken a bath with… with my sisters. I could almost pretend I was home.” She sighed and looked down. “But I’m not.”

Akane pursed her lips, and went over to climb in the tub. Ranko noted that she sat as far away from her as possible. Nabiki sat silently and watched.

Akane’s curiosity was piqued. “So, what are we like in your world? Kasumi-neechan, Nabiki-neechan, and I? How are we different?”

Ranko shook her head. “You’re not. You’re all exactly the same. If you hadn’t reacted to me the way you did, I would never have known I wasn’t home.” Depression settled over her features.

“Ranma and his father stayed with us because he and I were engaged. But you’re a girl, so why were you staying with our family?”

Ranko turned beet red. “Actually… you and I were engaged, too. The day that Father and I arrived, if you can believe it.”

Akane’s face turned a sickly pale color. “You mean our fathers engaged us even though they both knew you were really a girl?!” Ranko nodded, embarrassed. “What on Earth for?”

“They said it was to make up for turning me into a boy.” She sighed. “It was a really stupid idea.”

Nabiki put her hand over her eyes. Why am I not surprised?

Akane was still in shock. “You weren’t engaged to anyone else, though, right?” Ranko turned bright red again. “D-don’t tell me… Ukyou?” Ranko nodded. “And did Shampoo?…” Ranko nodded. “And Kodachi?…” Another nod.

Nabiki snorted. Apparently, Genma was the same in this other world, too. Kasumi joined them, her hair wrapped up in a towel.

Akane was feeling dizzy. “And how did you feel about that?!”

Ranko replied, with feeling, “I hated it. They were all girls. It made me terribly uncomfortable, even though I didn’t know I was a girl then.” She shuddered. “Every time Ucchan or Shampoo or Kodachi threw themselves at me, it made me so uncomfortable I was practically paralyzed.” She laughed nervously. “You used to brain me for letting them hang all over me.” Nabiki’s eyebrows shot up.

Akane swallowed nervously; this was all frighteningly familiar… and it ought not to be. “So… so did you tell us all that you weren’t interested?”

Ranko shook her head. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, and I didn’t want to admit that I felt like a girl inside.”

Nabiki shivered despite the warmth of the bath. Let’s hope it’s just the first one for Ranma.

“And what about the two of us?”

Ranko smiled. “Well… we both knew we loved each other, but we didn’t like being engaged. We fought a lot. It was actually a big relief when my mother showed up and canceled the engagements. Once you found out I was a girl, we grew close again really quickly, just like when we were little.”

Suddenly, Akane found her heart was pounding, and she was gripped by irrational terror. She averted her eyes. What is wrong with me?!

Ranko, having no idea what she had said, bit her lip, embarrassed.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Kasumi finally said, “Ranko-chan, aren’t you going to wash your hair?” Akane looked back, and Ranko’s hair was indeed dry.

Ranko shook her head. “I usually wash it in the mornings after I spar.” She frowned. “Maybe I should have washed it. I don’t know that I’ll be sparring while I’m here… unless…” She paused abruptly, her eyes unfocused, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Unless I wind up… staying.” Her lips were a thin line.

Kasumi tilted her head. “Why is that, Ranko-chan?”

“Well… I need a sparring partner… and…” Her gaze fell.

Kasumi turned to Akane, her eyebrows raised.

Akane tried to gain control of herself, and cleared her throat. “Would… would you like me to spar with you?” Kasumi beamed at her.

Ranko looked up, her feelings plain in those startling blue eyes. “Would you?” Akane nodded slowly, and Ranko seemed to brighten, a smile creeping onto her face.

The eyes, thought Akane. The eyes, and that unsure little smile. They’re the same. Exactly the same. Again, she felt a sense of profound unease crawl through her. “I… I think I’m going to go to bed!” She climbed out, a little too quickly, and went for a towel.

Ranko stared after her, her nascent smile gone, as the two older Tendou sisters exchanged glances. They all watched as Akane exited the bath post haste.

Kasumi turned back to the crushed redhead. “Ranko-chan…”

Ranko sighed, and rose from the bath. “I guess… I ought to get to bed, too.”

Akane stared at the wall and listened to the quiet whirring of her electric clock as each minute turned over. She’d spent a lot of time listening to that sound tonight.

She rolled over on her other side and stared at the futon on the far side of the room, and the form outlined there. She’d put the futon as far from her bed as possible. Ranko hadn’t said anything, but she’d paused for a moment when she came in, just looking from the futon to Akane’s bed and back. She’d continued on to climb in after murmuring a quiet good night.

Unlike Ranma, Ranko didn’t sprawl in her futon; she was curled up on her side, facing away from Akane. Akane couldn’t be sure, but she had the impression that Ranko was not being any more successful at falling asleep than she was.

There was a quiet noise and Ranko shifted in her bedding. Suddenly, Akane’s suspicions were aroused and she strained her ears; had that been a sniffle? She whispered, “Ranko? Are you awake?”

There was a pause, another motion, then, “Yes. I’m sorry, am I keeping you up?”

“Of course not. Are… are you feeling all right?” Like I have any right to ask.

Another pause. “Me? I’m fine.”

What a rotten liar. Just like him. “This must be hard on you.”

Akane expected the usual dismissal, and was surprised when Ranko replied, “Yes, it is. I have no idea how I came to your world, or why. I don’t know if… if I’ll ever be able to get back h-home. And all of you… I’m a stranger to you…” She stopped speaking abruptly, and Akane heard another suspicious noise.

She sighed. “You’re not a stranger. I think it would be easier if you were. I see too much of my Ranma in you to think of you that way.”

“Then… why? Why am I making you so uncomfortable?” Ranko was trying to keep her voice even and calm, but Akane could hear an undercurrent of hurt and accusation slip through.

Akane bit her lip, and didn’t reply for a while. “Because you’re Ranma, and… you’re a girl.” She hesitated; it felt strange confessing this to Ranma, even if it wasn’t her Ranma. “He’s the man I’m going to marry. The man I l-love. You’re him, but you’re a girl. A woman.”

Ranko replied quietly, “Doesn’t he have a curse?”

“Yes, he does.” Akane laughed softly. “But that’s just on the surface. He doesn’t really understand women, even though he turns into one. Even when he thought he was a woman that time, he acted like a stereotype. You act like a woman. You are a woman.” She pulled her comforter a little tighter around her. She didn’t want to say this, but maybe it was time she was honest. Ranko wasn’t being fooled, anyway. “I find you a little frightening.”

It tooks Ranko a long time to reply. “Why?”

“I don’t know!” snapped Akane, irritated. She sighed. “I haven’t figured it out yet.”

They were both quiet for a long time, though Akane was pretty sure Ranko wasn’t asleep. Finally, she ventured “Ranko?”

“Yes?”

“How… how do you feel about me?” Ranma would never answer this question, but Ranko seemed to be much more open with her feelings. She didn’t seem to have the barbed wire which Ranma kept around topics like this.

Ranko took a minute to respond. “You’re my closest friend, Akane. I’ve known you since I was a baby. You’re like a sister to me, my twin sister. We share everything. We have no secrets.” Except about a certain piglet… Her voice grew thick. “I love you, Sis.” She didn’t say anything more.

Akane squeezed her eyes shut. And I’m treating you horribly, just for being yourself. Is it really so bad to have another Ranma around, one who’s a girl? She sighed; she still felt uneasy. I need to figure this out.

After what seemed like an eternity, she heard quiet breathing from across the room, and sagged in relief; at least Ranko was sleeping. Akane turned over again, and tried to sleep herself.

She passed in and out of a fitful sleep for a few hours, incoherent, unsettling dreams flashing by only to be forgotten. Finally, she was roused by an increasingly urgent need, and rose shakily from bed to stagger down the hall.

When she returned and quietly opened the door to her room, the hall light shone on Ranko’s face, and Akane smiled. The other girl had a peaceful expression on her face. Akane wondered if Ranko was prone to nightmares as Ranma was. Probably; judging by her reactions earlier, she too had been subjected to the Cat Fist training. At least she wasn’t having one tonight.

Suddenly, Akane’s eyes narrowed, and she peered more closely at the sleeping redhead. Ranko’s peaceful face was covered with dried tears, and she had the heart pendant of her necklace clutched tightly in her hand.

Akane slunk back to bed, her face hot with shame.

Chapter Text

By the side of the koi pond, Akane moved slowly and gracefully through the stages of her kata. It was a beautiful morning, and she felt joined not just to the Art, but to Nature itself. The wind breathed as she breathed; the trees swayed in time with her movement. The stages of her kata were the passage of time.

Suddenly, she noticed a familiar figure watching her: Ranma. He was standing there holding his gym bag, watching her quietly with a serious expression. He must have just walked through the front gate. When he saw her notice him, he smiled that uncertain smile of his.

Akane felt her heart skip a beat, and she stopped her kata. For the longest time, she’d thought Ranma was nothing but an insensitive jerk. As she’d gotten to know him, though, she’d found that when it really counted, he was one of the bravest, kindest, most generous people she had ever known. She’d come to know his heart, and some of the secrets he had hidden there. To her surprise, one of them had been the love he held for her. Now she couldn’t imagine spending her life without him, for she had come to love him, too. Very much so. She vaguely remembered that there were some problems, but she couldn’t quite recall what they were at the moment.

For a long moment, she just gazed at him. Ranma, her handsome fiancé. Then, she ran over and threw her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Ranma, I’m so glad you’re home. I’ve missed you!”

Ranma snorted. “I was only gone for a day, y’know.” He hugged her back. “But I missed you too, Sis.”

A chill ran up Akane’s spine. “Wh-what did you call me?” She pulled away from the embrace, and found that Ranma was in female form. She was wearing a denim skirt and a teal v-neck top, and her red hair was neatly styled. The gym bag had become a violin case.

She smiled. “I called you ‘Sis.’ What else would I call my sister?”

Akane’s heart hammered in her chest. “No… Ranma, you’re my fiancé… you’re a guy! You’re not my sister…”

Ranma shook her head. “I’m not a guy any more. I think I like being a girl much better. I’m happier this way.” She tilted her head. “Besides, don’t you like me better as a girl too? You’re the one who said ‘Would you like to be friends?’”

Tears started to spill down Akane’s cheeks. “No… no… please… Ranma… please don’t become a girl… I… I love you!!”

Ranma gazed back at her, all concern. “Oh Sis… there’s no need to worry.” She embraced Akane gently. “I love you, too.”

Akane screamed “Nooooooo!” and sat bolt upright in her bed, breathing heavily. Morning light streamed in through the windows, and the chittering and singing of the birds made a disorganized symphony outside.

Across the room, Ranko stirred groggily. “Huh? Whazzamatter, Sis? Bad dream?”

Akane screamed, “Don’t call me that! I’m your fiancée, not your sister!” The two young women stared wild-eyed at each other for a few moments, while the fog of sleep dispersed.

Then both sighed a long, heavy sigh, and said “I’m sorry” in unison. They blinked.

The door opened, and Nabiki was standing there, rubbing her eyes. “Do you guys think you can wait until it’s a decent hour to start yelling at each other?”

Akane blushed. “I’m sorry, Oneechan. I had a bad dream.”

Nabiki nodded and yawned. “I’m going back to bed. I’ll be getting up for those 8 AM freshman classes soon enough.” She closed the door.

Akane turned back to Ranko, and winced; she looked stricken. “Ranko, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was still half-asleep.”

Ranko said quietly, “Your nightmare was about me, wasn’t it?”

Again Akane felt guilt form a cold lump in her abdomen. “Kind of yes and kind of no. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.” The redhead nodded and sighed.

Akane put her head in her hands. What a way to start the day. At least Ranma will be home tonight. She felt a warm hint of anticipation, but it was accompanied by a lingering sense of dread from her dream. It’s silly, she thought. There’s no way Ranma would ever want to be a girl. No way. He hates his curse. She yawned; she was exhausted after a poor night’s sleep.

So why am I having nightmares about it?

Nodoka looked up from her morning tea at the two young women who stumbled into the family room, each wearing a gi. She smiled. “Good morning, dears.”

Ranko blearily mumbled “Mornin’,” while Akane muttered something incoherent. They both sat down heavily at the table, and Nodoka wordlessly pushed the coffee pot at Akane. She knew the teenager needed something to get jump started in the morning.

Akane poured herself a cup and downed it in the space of a couple of minutes. She turned to Ranko, who appeared ready to doze off while sitting up. “OK. I’m ready.” The sleepy redhead nodded, and they both stepped outside to start their warmups next to the koi pond. Nodoka took her tea with her to the porch to watch.

As the two went through their katas, Ranko finished waking up, and she was soon moving with lithe grace and power. She looked almost like a dancer. Once again Nodoka found her heart filled with pride. Clearly, Ranko still practiced the Art.

Akane watched Ranko out of the corner of her eye as she warmed up. She obviously still spent time on martial arts, but if she wasn’t focused on them she couldn’t be as good as Ranma. Maybe… I actually have a chance. The thought of actually being able to hold her own with Ranma, or—unthinkable!—even land a blow, sent a little thrill through her. Even if it was another version of Ranma.

Ranko finished her katas, and found Akane waiting for her. “Are you ready? How do you want to do this? Just general sparring?”

Akane nodded. “Sounds good to me.” They bowed to each other, and assumed their stances. Nodoka leaned forward, watching carefuly.

Akane attacked, and in the blink of an eye found herself sitting on the ground, her side smarting sharply from a blow Ranko had landed. Nodoka gasped; she’d barely been able to see Ranko move.

Ranko’s hands flew to her mouth. “Sis, are you all right? I didn’t expect…”

Akane said in wonder, “You hit me…”

Ranko kneeled next to her. “I’m so sorry! I don’t like to hurt people when I spar. Sometimes I’ll hit hard enough to really smart, but usually I try to score just by hitting hard enough to sting a little. I expected you to dodge a little urk!” Ranko was cut off when Akane threw her arms around the shorter girl and squeezed her as if her life depended on it.

“You hit me! You actually hit me and it hurt! Thank you!! Thank you thank you thank you!”

Akane let go of the bewildered redhead and noticed her expression. “Ranma won’t ever really hit me. He just dodges.” She sighed. “He doesn’t really take me seriously.”

Ranko’s eyes widened in understanding. “I’m sorry…”

Akane smiled and shook her head. “It’s not your fault.”

Ranko bit her lip. “It is, in a way. I used to do that to you when I was Ranma. There are very few things I did when I was Ranma that I’m ashamed of, but that is one of them. I’m sorry your Ranma is doing it to you.” They both stood up.

Akane scratched her head. “You’re still way faster than me. How much did you say you practice?”

“An hour every day, with you and Father. I’m sorry I hit you so hard; I expected you to be as fast as my Akane and dodge better.”

Akane’s heart leapt. “You… you mean your Akane is a lot faster?”

Ranko laughed. “You can’t train with me and Father for an hour every day without being fast.” She looked off to one side as she thought for a moment. “You know, I hadn’t really thought about it, but you have improved a lot since you and I started sparring for real, and especially since we started training together with Father.” She looked back and blinked; Akane was staring at her with desperate hope in her gaze.

“Would you… would you train me? While you’re here?”

Ranko nodded slowly. “Of course, Sis.” She winced. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting.”

Akane smiled. “If you’ll spar with me for real, you can call me anything you want.” They both laughed.

Nodoka watched as the two of them began again, Ranko moving more slowly this time. The shorter girl kept the intensity just high enough to seriously challenge Akane, giving her a thorough workout. Ranko jumped and flipped a lot, trying to exercise her own skills without overwhelming Akane. Soon both girls were smiling broadly, with an occasional laugh of delight. Akane was clearly enjoying this immensely, and Ranko seemed genuinely happy, as she’d been when playing her violin last night.

Nodoka sighed. Why couldn’t her son show his fiancée this same level of respect? He loved her, but he didn’t treat her as an equal. Nodoka had been raised in a very traditional way, but she knew that girls these days thought differently. The youngest Tendou bristled when Ranma treated her as an inferior—which he did all too frequently.

Which reminded her… she had a phone call to make. It was late enough in the morning now to call, and Ranma needed to be warned about the situation that was waiting for him here. She rose and went to the telephone.

She dialed, then waited as the phone rang.

“Hello, Aomori residence.”

“Oneechan? It’s me, Nodoka. I hope it’s not too early?”

“No, not at all. Why did you call? Is something wrong?”

Nodoka bit her lip. “Not exactly, but there’s something I need to tell Ranma before he comes home. May I speak to him?”

“Nodoka, I’m afraid he’s left already. He felt there was something wrong with Akane-chan when she spoke with him last night, and it bothered him no end. He decided he wanted to go home first thing in the morning, so he went down to catch an early train. He should be there any minute, I would think.”

Suddenly, from outside, came two blood-curdling screams, one male, one female: “Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!”

Nodoka closed her eyes and sighed. “He just arrived.”

Ranma bit his lip as he walked up to the front gate of the Tendou Dojo. Ever since he’d spoken to Akane last night, he’d been trying to figure out why she was so upset. His mother had sounded a little emotional, too. He didn’t think they were in any danger, but even he could figure out something was up. And after Jusendou, he was very jumpy about anything that affected Akane.

As he walked through the gate, he heard the sounds of sparring, and looked off towards the koi pond. He smiled; Akane was sparring with another girl. They both seemed to be having a great time, and Ranma felt a warm glow inside; seeing her happy made him happy. He could never get enough of that smile of hers.

He couldn’t quite recognize who the other girl was from this distance, but she seemed to be pretty good. It’s good Akane found another girl to spar with, he thought, someone on her own level. He looked more closely. Actually… she’s better than Akane; she’s holdin’ back. Not as good as me, of course. Wonder who she is? I thought I knew everyone around here.

As he watched the action, his eyes narrowed: the other girl was practicing Anything Goes! There were very few people who knew that style, and he thought he’d known who they all were. Great. Pop did somethin’ else he never told me about. Or maybe the old freak.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Not only was she using moves from Anything Goes… they were from the Saotome school. Definitely Pop. As he drew closer, he finally realized why the moves looked so familiar, and his blood turned to ice water.

This girl was using his moves. Sparring like him. And he still couldn’t see her face, but… she had… red… hair…

The two girls had paused, the redhead with her back to Ranma. She was shorter than Akane—quite petite, in fact—and had delicate hands, currently hanging relaxed by her sides. Very familiar looking hands. He swallowed, and his heart started to pound. It can’t be… It can’t be…

Suddenly Akane noticed him over the redhead’s shoulder, and her eyes went wide, her face ashen. “R-ranma?…”

The redhead stiffened, then slowly turned around. And Ranma found himself face to face with… herself.

There was no question: it was him. Her. The face he, or rather she, saw in the mirror.

The two of them took one, long, good look at each other. Then, as one, they screamed: “Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!”

The rest of the family stampeded onto the porch in short order, Nabiki still in her pajamas. They stared back and forth between the two Ranmas, their jaws hanging open. Even though they’d expected it, it was… surreal.

Ranma tried to regain control of himself; he had to stay on top of the situation, though his danger sense was silent. He racked his brain for some explanation, and his eyes grew wide. “It’s that demon! She’s back!” He readied himself for a fight.

The demon seemed to be calming down herself, and her face took on a bewildered expression that was decidedly un-demon-like. “‘Demon?’”

Ranma grew uncertain; was she trying to trick him? Suddenly, he had an idea. The demon had been able to mesmerize his male form, so…

Akane and Ranko both blinked when Ranma dropped his bag, then ran and jumped in the koi pond. Ranko swallowed when an exact duplicate of herself sprang out. Well, exact except for the unflattering hairstyle…

“There!” said Ranma. “Now you can’t hypnotize me like you did the last time!” Suddenly she paused, confused. “Wait a minute… the demon was my girl form.” She scratched her head. Nabiki sighed and put her hand over her eyes, shaking her head.

Akane tried to speak. “Ranma, she’s—”

Ranma pounded her fist in her open palm. “I know! The mirror clone! Right? How’d she come back?”

The mirror clone looked to Akane. “‘Mirror clone?’”

Akane sighed. “It’s a long story…”

Ranma looked between the two of them. “No?” The two other girls shook their heads.

Ranma stepped forward. “OK, then, who is she?”

Nabiki spoke up, hoping to end the confusion. “Ranma, she’s… you. Another you from a parallel world.”

Ranma frowned, confused. “Parallel world?”

Nabiki nodded. “A whole different universe, very similar to ours, except there, you’re a—”

Ranma interrupted, speaking to the other redhead. “So you’re another me? What’re you doin’ here? Why are you in your girl form? Goin’ easy on Akane?”

Akane and the other Ranma fumed, and Akane tried again. “No, Ranma, she’s—

Ranma asked, “Then why dont’cha just change back?”

The other redhead had had enough. “Would you please just shut up and listen?!” Ranma’s mouth closed.

Ranma’s double marched up to her. “I don’t have a Jusenkyou curse any more. I’m a girl!”

Ranma looked her up and down. “I can see that.”

Ranko rolled her eyes. Was I like this? “No, I mean I’m really a girl, like Akane and her sisters. A woman. My name is Saotome Ranko.”

Suddenly, Ranma noticed the little details that had escaped her before. This other her had styled hair, currently gathered into a loose ponytail by one of those stretchy fabric things women used. She had bangs. She had pierced ears. She was using female speech.

She was Ranma’s worst nightmare, come to life.

Ranma suddenly found that her throat was rather dry, and a chill ran up her spine. “Wh-what happened?”

“What do you mean, ‘what happened’?”

“You used to be a guy who turned into a girl with cold water, right?” Ranko blushed and nodded. “So… why ain’t you a guy now? Did Herb…?” Ranma knew her victory over Herb had been a close thing, and maybe, in another world, she’d lost the Kaisuifuu. She shuddered; if she had, would she have turned out like this?

Ranko shook her head slowly. “Herb? Who’s that? What do you think he did?”

“He locked my curse for a while. If it wasn’t him, who locked your curse?”

Ranko blinked. “My curse isn’t locked. I don’t have a curse any more. It’s gone.”

Ranma’s icy fear was tempered with confusion. “If your curse is gone, why ain’t you a guy?”

Ranko realized she had omitted an important detail. “Because this is the real me.” She pointed at herself. “I was born a girl.”

Ranma’s eyes bulged slightly. Ranko was him, but born a girl? “Then how could you have had a Nyanniichuan curse? Why were you a boy?”

“I was enchanted. When I was four, by Happousai. He turned me into a boy. I… I looked just like you did before you jumped in the pond.”

Akane piped up. “You know how you always say you look like the girl who drowned in the Nyanniichuan, and your mother says she thinks you look like who you would have been if you’d been born a girl? I guess she was right. When Ranko showed up yesterday we were sure she was you.”

Ranma stared at the familiar face which was staring right back at her, and her head started to spin. She hadn’t wanted to accept her mother’s theory about her girl form, despite the obvious family resemblance, because it brought the curse to a whole new level of discomfort. Better to turn into some girl she didn’t know than a female version of… himself. But now that hypothetical person was standing in front of her… and she was identical to Ranma’s current form. That made the curse a far more intimate invasion of her identity than she’d wanted to accept.

I don’t wanna think about this. “S-so why did the old freak do that to you?” Suddenly, all eyes were on Genma, and Ranma knew the answer. Figures…

Genma folded his arms. “I told you, I had a son! It was her father!” No one was impressed.

Ranko laughed nervously. “It was an accident. Father thought Happousai was going to give him a son, not turn his daughter into a boy.” She looked down. “I was a boy for twelve years, until Father took me to Jusenkyou.”

Ranma nodded. Par for the course. Pop is such an idiot. “So somethin’ happened, and you can’t turn back into a boy any more. Man, that must suck.”

Ranko shook her head, confused. “Well, no, actually. I wanted to be a girl again. Even before I knew I had been born a girl. It was a big relief to be me again; I’ve been much happier as a girl. The day my curse disappeared was one of the happiest days of my life.”

Ranma scratched her head. “Why would you wanna be a girl if you could be a guy?”

Nabiki sighed as she recognized the danger signs in Akane, the signs that Ranma always seemed to be blind to: the tense posture, the furrowed brow, the lips a thin line. Then she blinked; Ranko was showing similar signs.

Akane opened her mouth, but Ranko beat her to it. “Just what are you trying to say?”

Ranma spread her arms, palms up. “Why would anyone wanna be a girl if they had a choice? Girls are weaker than guys, and they can’t fight as well. And you can only be an O.L. or a housewife or a teacher or somethin’ like that.”

The other two girls were seething, but Ranma continued, oblivious. “I mean, why would anyone choose that?”

That was enough. Akane began to summon her ki mallet, when something amazing happened. Ranko shouted “Ranma no baka!” and moments later Ranma was on the ground, twitching. Akane’s own ki mallet fizzled as, slack-jawed, she watched Ranko disperse hers, righteous anger written on her face.

“My God,” breathed Nabiki, “she is Akane’s twin sister!” Everyone was in shock from the mind-boggling spectacle of Ranma malleting himself. Herself. Whatever.

Akane whispered, “Where did you learn to do that?”

Ranko herself was a little shocked at what she had just done. “Ummm… you taught me, Sis.”

A small smile broke out on Akane’s face. “Well, not me, exactly. But close enough.” She peered more closely at Ranko; the redhead was biting her lip. “What’s wrong?”

Ranko shook her head. “I shouldn’t have done that.” She sighed. “I had no right to do that.”

Akane blinked. “Why not? He had it coming.”

Ranko nodded. “He did. But I used to say the same things, when I was a boy.” She laughed in embarrassment. “I’m really starting to understand how you felt back then.” She averted her gaze. “I can’t believe I used to be like that.”

Akane hesitated, then walked over and put a hand on Ranko’s shoulder. Now that Ranma was home, Ranko seemed a little less… frightening. A little more approachable.

The shorter girl looked up at her, her eyes questioning, and Akane smiled. “But you’re not like that any more, right? You’ve… reformed.” Akane’s smile broadened into a grin.

Ranko grinned, too. “I guess I have.” They both started laughing, and Ranko felt more relaxed than she had since this whole mess had started. Her eyes fell on her double, who was just starting to stir, and the germ of an idea took root in her mind. Hmmmm…

Ranma sat at the breakfast table, impatiently tapping his fingers. Everyone was there except Ranko and his mother, but Kasumi and Akane had insisted that they wait for “our guest.” Ranma had protested that since Ranko was just another version of him, she wasn’t really a guest, but it had fallen on deaf ears. His stomach growled quietly, and he wished once again that he had accepted Auntie Aomori’s offer of breakfast.

He still wasn’t quite sure how to feel about Ranko. The novelty of the situation had worn off quickly; after the last year of his life, this was pretty tame. He had faced doubles of himself before, both male and female. This wasn’t even the first truly female double he’d met: his mirror clone had been a girl, and an outrageous flirt to boot.

But Ranko wasn’t a mirror clone or a demon, both of whom had been rather imperfect copies of himself. She was him—except she was a girl, a real girl. Of that he had no doubt; she’d proven it by her uncannily Akane-like reaction to him. The idea that a version of himself could actually be a girl—and worse, be happy about it—tied his guts in knots. Even worse, she’d actually been a boy, like him, for twelve years, and was still happy about being a girl now. She’d chosen to be a girl. Ranma got goose flesh just thinking about it.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and shortly thereafter Ranko and Nodoka entered the family room. Ranma cringed slightly; Ranko was wearing a dark green print dress with puffy sleeves and a white bib. Her hair was held in place by an ornament, and she was wearing dangly silver earrings. Seeing any version of himself looking so feminine made him uneasy. He glanced surreptitiously at his mother, but she was smiling.

Ranko smiled at the family. “Sorry to keep everyone waiting—I wash my hair in the mornings, and I had to find something to wear.” Ranma rolled his eyes. “You should have gone ahead.”

Kasumi offered a bright smile and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Ranko-chan. My, you look nice!” Nodoka beamed.

The redhead blushed. “Thank you. It’s quite a bit dressier than what I usually wear, but I had to find something from Ranma’s cast-offs.” She laughed.

Ranma blinked. “That’s one’a mine?” He looked the dress over again. “Y’know, it does look kinda familiar…” He scratched his head.

His mother smiled. “It’s one I bought for ‘Tendou Ranko,’ Dear. At least a real Ranko is going to get a chance to wear it!”

Ranma nodded nervously, and wondered just how his mother felt about this girl version of himself.“Uhhh… not that I mind or nothin’—it ain’t like I’m gonna wear ’em—but… why’re you borrowin’ clothes?”

Ranko and Nodoka sat down, and Kasumi started to serve. Ranko paused a moment before replying; conversing with this male version of herself was unsettling, in no small part due to the unpleasant memories it stirred up. She shivered slightly. “When I came here yesterday, I only had the clothes on my back. Those are all in the wash now. Mother said you wouldn’t mind if I wore the clothes she bought for you when she thought you were a girl.”

Everyone paused for a quick “Itadakimasu,” then began to eat. Ranko’s eyes widened as she watched Ranma vacuum up his breakfast, fending off Genma’s chopsticks all the while. She’d forgotten what meals used to be like. She did not miss it in the slightest.

Frustrated by Ranma’s expert defense, Genma eyed Ranko’s breakfast, and his chopsticks darted out in her direction. Ranko scrambled to defend her food…

…Until a katana cleanly sliced Genma’s chopsticks in half. Genma’s eyes bugged out as Nodoka resheathed her weapon. “She’s a guest, Dear. Keep your hands off her meal. Besides, how can she possibly eat like a lady if she has to defend it?” Nodoka smiled at Ranko, who nodded uncertainly, and wondered if this version of her mother really was exactly the same.

Wordlessly, Kasumi passed Genma another pair of chopsticks, and he morosely set about eating his own (and only his own) breakfast.

Even with the greater size of his breakfast, Ranma’s speed enabled him to finish ahead of everyone else. He looked around, and his gaze latched onto Ranko as she ate neatly and politely. He shivered again.

Akane spoke up. “Ranko, I really enjoyed our sparring session even though it got cut short. I was surprised by how skillful you still are. You made it sound like you hardly practiced at all any more, but you’re still way beyond me.”

Ranko smiled. “Thanks, Sis. I enjoy martial arts too much to give up on it altogether. I have to admit I don’t practice intense fighting any more, though, just sparring. If I got in a real fight with a skilled martial artist, I’d probably be in trouble.” She looked down. “Father keeps trying to convince me to train as a warrior, but… I really don’t like that any more.” Ranma’s and Genma’s jaws were hanging open; they followed the conversation with rapt attention.

Nodoka raised an eyebrow. “Why is that, Dear?”

Ranko blushed. “I don’t like to hurt people. You always told me that I was a sensitive child.” Nabiki, who had been drinking her tea, suddenly started choking. Everyone looked at her, concerned, but she seemed to be all right except for the coughing.

Ranko continued, “I can do it if I have to defend myself, like against Happousai or Kunou, but I have a hard time doing it to people I care about, so I don’t get a lot of practice in hostile combat. Father and I have agreed to disagree about it.”

Nabiki observed, “You didn’t seem to have a problem with malleting Ranma this morning.” She coughed again.

Ranko blushed deeply. “Well, I do lose my temper sometimes.” She glanced at Akane. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have learned that move. It’s too easy to use.” Akane sighed and nodded. Ranko turned to Ranma. “I’m sorry about that.”

Ranma was still focused on one thing. He blurted out, “But… but what about bein’ a great martial artist? Don’t you care about bein’ the best?”

Ranko replied with a cold glare. “Yes, I do care. My whole life used to revolve around being the best martial artist in the world. I don’t need to be the best in the world any more, but I do need to be the best I can be. And I’ve decided that I want to do my best at something else. Something I enjoy more than martial arts.”

Ranma’s mind tried to parse this last sentence, and drew a blank. How could you like something more than martial arts? It was like saying something was higher than up.

He was about to ask what that could possibly be when Akane directed a glare of her own at him. “Ranko agreed to train me while she’s here. She says I’m much faster and more skilled in her world, where she and I spar with Uncle Saotome every day.” She folded her arms. “Too bad I can’t find someone in this universe who’s willing to do that.”

Ranma sighed. “We’ve been through this, Akane. I’m way past your level. It just wouldn’t be fair.”

Akane fumed. “Ranko is way past my level, too, but she knows how to hold back while still giving me a challenge.”

“Yeah, but she’s obviously nowhere near where I am.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll bet she could give you a run for your money!”

Ranko shook her head. Thanks to her daily training sessions, she was better than she had been when she fought Ryouga on the beach in Ibaraki. However, she was under no illusions about how she measured up to her former self. “Sis, he’d probably cream me.” Ranma and Akane ignored her.

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. Ranma—any version—showing humility? Apologizing? Did Ranko being a girl really make that big a difference?

Ranma smirked. “Not a chance. She used to be me, but she ain’t spendin’ as much time on it. Besides, she’s a girl now.” Ranko glared at him, unnoticed.

Akane bristled. “You’re just afraid to fight a girl who might be as good as you!”

Ranko tried again. “Uh, guys…”

Neither Akane nor Ranma were paying attention to her. “Oh yeah? You’re on!” Ranma turned to Ranko. “C’mon, let’s spar after we’re done with breakfast. I promise I won’t hurt ya.”

Ranko sighed in exasperation. Mouuu! And I just washed my hair.

“OK, are ya ready?”

Ranko eyed Ranma doubtfully as they both stood by the side of the koi pond, he in his Chinese clothes and she in a borrowed gi. Akane and the rest of the family sat on the porch, watching. Ranko had considered declining, but the looks on both Ranma’s and Akane’s faces told her that was a futile idea; they wouldn’t let her rest until she’d sparred with Ranma at least once. She could have bowed out with the excuse that she had to get to her studies at the University, but it was a sure bet that the Professor Murata in this world had never heard of Saotome Ranko. She’d have to practice on her own until… until she managed to get home. She bit her lip. I’ll get home… I have to.

She put those thoughts out of her mind and nodded her assent to Ranma’s question. She was sure this would be over quickly; she wasn’t even as good as she’d been when she first learned she was Ranko, and she was sure this Ranma hadn’t stood still. Still, it would be fun to see just how long she could make the fight last. If she could dodge fast enough, and maybe get in a hit or two, she would be pleased with herself. Her reflexes and conditioning might not be what they once were, but her mind was as agile as ever, honed by twelve years on the road with her father. And she did have one advantage: she had a much better idea of how Ranma thought than most of his opponents did.

They both appeared to simply relax, standing in place. Ranma grinned his approval as he saw Ranko masking her stance in the same way he did. She smiled back.

Suddenly, Ranko barely detected the beginnings of a movement on Ranma’s part, and she instinctively dodged. She was flabbergasted when a strike from Ranma passed through the space she had occupied an instant before. Kami-sama, he’s fast! This might be over a lot quicker than I thought.

She backpedaled a little to put more space between them, give her a little more time to react. This was not looking good; this Ranma was far faster than she had been.

Ranma relaxed again and slowly circled, almost looking like he was ambling. Her retina caught the barest trace of movement again, and again she dodged. This time she took a chance and lashed out with a quick jab, using the speed of the Chestnut Fist. She was rewarded with a hit, but it cost her one in return, a glancing blow as she flipped out of the way. Glancing though it was, it hurt like hell. Automatically, she added a little more distance between them.

Ranma nodded and grinned, and Ranko couldn’t help smiling; she’d won a little bit more respect from him. Casually, they circled each other, looking for all the world like they were out for a Sunday morning stroll.

Ranko had already given up hope of any kind of offensive, and was hoping she could just get in one more hit like the one she’d already managed. She waited for Ranma to attack again.

But rather than leaping, he brought his hands together in a curious gesture, and seemed to concentrate. Ranko frowned. What is he doing?

Suddenly Ranma shouted “Mouko Takabisha!” and a bright ball of energy shot towards her at blinding speed. She was already in motion before he released it, but he tracked her like a target, and it caught her a glancing blow in the side, blasting her several meters. She landed rolling and sprang instantly into her ready stance, trying to ignore the pain, narrowly dodging another leap by Ranma. I’m in way over my head. He’s gone far beyond where I was. She sighed. How did I let myself get talked into this? I don’t even know any ki moves! Wait a minute… it’s hardly elegant, but it might just work…

Akane gasped. She’d been so blinded by her anger at Ranma’s arrogance, she’d pushed Ranko into a very uneven contest. She turned to Nodoka. “Auntie, maybe we should stop this…”

Nodoka shook her head. “He promised not to hurt her. He keeps his word.”

Ranma seemed to be just circling; maybe he needed to recharge a little to fire off another ki blast? Ranko watched warily and waited. Suddenly, he made the hand gesture again, and Ranko acted; as Ranma shouted “Mouko Takabisha,” she shouted “Yougeki Kizuchi!” A ball of energy shot towards her once more…

…and collided with the ki mallet she had thrown. They both disappeared in a noisy flash of light.

Ranma stared in disbelief, then burst out laughing. His laughter was cut short as he felt a hard kick to his side. He stumbled for a second as he watched Ranko land and turn to face him again, backing up quickly to open some distance. She’d used his distraction to land one blow. She had a huge, proud smile on her face.

Ranko felt Ranma’s gaze fall on her, measuring her anew. Again, she’d gained respect from him.

Ranma’s eyes narrowed. OK. Time to end this.

Ranko gasped; in the blink of an eye, Ranma came at her, launching a furious Chestnut Fist. She countered with her own as best she could, but he was much faster than she was, and blow after blow made it through her defenses. She strained herself and managed a little more speed, but it wasn’t enough; her body howled in protest at the punishment it was receiving. Finally a heavy blow landed and sent her flying… straight at the large rock by the pond.

Ranma reacted instantly, and put on a burst of speed as Ranko sailed through the air. Just before she struck the rock, a red and black blur intercepted her, and they both landed in the pond with a large splash.

A redheaded girl wearing Chinese clothes cradled her identical twin wearing a gi as they both sat in the water. “You OK?”

Ranko smiled weakly up at her. “Yield.”

Ranma laughed; then her expression turned serious. “I underestimated you. Yeah, you don’t practice nearly as much as me, and you don’t know all the moves I know, so I overpowered you pretty quick. But you got the most outta what you had. And it was pretty damn good.”

Ranko nodded and smiled. “And I hit you twice!”

Ranma snorted, and a smile came over her face again. “Yeah. You sure did.”

“Y’know, she ain’t bad.”

Akane turned to regard the redheaded girl sitting next to her on the porch—her redheaded girl. The other one, after loudly inquiring of the entire family whether anyone else wanted to spar with her this morning, had gone off to wash up—again. Ranma was waiting her turn at the bath; after sitting in the pond, it seemed like a good idea. Naturally, bathing with Ranko was out of the question, despite Ranma’s current female state.

Akane’s eyes scanned the redhead, who was indistinguishable from the girl who’d slept in her room last night. The only physical differences were the hairstyle and the pierced ears. Oh, you could tell them apart in other ways: Ranma’s body language was masculine, and when she opened her mouth there was no doubt who it was. But if Ranma could act like Ranko, and brushed her hair out? Or if Ranko put her hair in a pigtail and acted like Ranma? You would never be able to tell them apart. Even identical twins differed slightly; these two were identical, at least when Ranma was a girl. It was eerie.

She focused on Ranma’s words. “Oh? Even though you beat her so easily? Even though she’s just a weak, silly girl?”

Ranma blushed slightly at the dig. “Yeah.” Physically, Ranko wasn’t even at the same level as Shampoo, but her tactical skills were not far below those of Ranma herself. She had shown the same inventiveness that was Ranma’s own trademark; adapting Akane’s ki mallet as a defense against the Mouko Takabisha had shown that. Clearly, Ranko had the same gift for martial arts that Ranma did—but was choosing not to pursue it. A terrible sin, from Ranma’s point of view. “If she still followed the Art the way I do, she could be almost as good as me.”

“Almost?”

Ranma snorted. “Maybe she could be as good as me. Maybe.” The idea that a girl could possibly be as good as Ranma herself made her uneasy—even if that girl was another version of herself. She found she was having trouble selecting a mental pigeonhole for Ranko. She was obviously a girl, but she was also obviously Ranma, and as talented. Those two categories were incompatible in Ranma’s view of the world. “She’d have to go through all the stuff I did, includin’ Saffron.” They both sobered at that, and sat in silence for a couple of minutes.

Finally, Ranma said softly, “It’s a shame she ain’t followin’ the Art any more. It’s a waste.”

Akane sighed. Why couldn’t Ranma ever feel this way about her and the Art? “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Ranma raised an eyebrow. “What d’ya mean?”

“She didn’t tell you what it is she does instead, did she?” Ranma shook her head. “She’s studying to be a violinist. A classical musician.”

An odd mixture of pleasure and horror washed through Ranma. She had a great fondness for music, though she’d never really done anything about it—her life on the road with her father had made that impossible. But to give up the Art for that? Ranma couldn’t understand it; not for that. Not for anything. “Well… that’s nice, I guess. I can’t see givin’ up the Art for it, though.”

Akane was surprised; this was the nicest thing Ranma had ever said about anything that wasn’t related to martial arts. Usually anything else was beneath his notice. “Wait until you hear her play before you decide it’s a waste.” Ranma snorted, but didn’t say any more.

Another couple of minutes passed, and they turned to each other and simultaneously said “What do you think of her?” They chuckled.

“You first,” said Akane.

Ranma nodded, and took some time to gather her words. “She sure seems nice enough.” She looked around; they were alone. “She kinda gives me the creeps, though. I mean, she’s me, but she’s a girl. And she’s happy about it. That really bugs me. I guess it ain’t her fault, but…”

Akane’s eyes widened. “I feel the same way, though I’m starting to get used to her. I see so much of you in her, it’s a little frightening. And I’m so used to your girl form, I can’t help seeing her as you, and that’s really disconcerting. I feel bad, because I… I like her… but… you and I…” she trailed off, blushing, and looked away.

Ranma swallowed nervously. “Akane… you… you like her?…”

Akane sighed in exasperation. “Not that way, baka. As someone I care about. I do care about her, the… the same way she cares about me, I guess. I… can’t help caring about her. Because… because she’s you.” She blushed again.

Ranma’s heart skipped a beat. Akane was rarely even this direct about her feelings, and it was exhilarating when she was. She couldn’t think of how to reply, so they sat silently for a while more.

They heard footsteps behind them, and turned; Ranko was standing there, dressed as she had been at breakfast. A small smile came over her face. “The bath’s all yours, Ranma.” Akane blinked; Ranko seemed a little more relaxed around Ranma than she had been earlier.

Ranma nodded, and rose. “I won’t take long. Don’t haveta do my hair and all that stuff.” She ventured a grin, and Ranko smiled. Ranma headed off towards the bath, and Ranko sat down next to Akane in her stead. Akane’s head spun somewhat from the transposition.

Ranko waited until Ranma was out of earshot, then said softly, “You know, he’s really good. He’s so far beyond where I was even when I was… Ranma myself. I was expecting him to be better, but I was amazed.”

Akane sighed. “A lot has happened in the last seven months. He’s faced a lot of challenges, a lot of battles. Not too long ago, he… he had to kill someone who was a half-god, to save my life.”

Ranko’s jaw dropped. “I thought my life was weird when I was Ranma, but I never had to face anything like that.” She shivered. “If I had kept on being Ranma, I wonder if that would have happened to me. I wonder how I would have done.” She shook her head. “I’m glad I didn’t have to find out, especially with your life at stake.”

Akane nodded slowly. “And that was just the latest in a long series of challenges and opponents. He’s been busy.” She shook her head. “He’s become so skilled, it… puts distance between us.” She looked over at Ranko, who was staring off into space. “What do you think of him, now that you’ve met him?”

Ranko tilted her head and thought. “Well, he seems nice enough, aside from his views on women and his big mouth. Actually, I wasn’t expecting those. I was like that when I was a boy.” She hugged herself as if she had a chill, and something about her words left Akane feeling uneasy again. “I feel bad saying this, but… he kind of gives me the creeps. I mean, he’s me, but he’s a boy. And he seems happy about it. That really bothers me. Of course, it’s not his fault, but…” Akane’s eyes bugged out.

Ranko continued, “I was a boy, too, but I hated it. When Ranma is in his boy form, that… that brings back memories. Bad memories. I find his girl form easier to take.” Akane nodded; that was why Ranko had seemed more comfortable just now.

Akane was struck by Ranko’s mirror of Ranma’s point of view. She’d been thinking of Ranko as an alternate of the “real” Ranma, almost like some kind of… mutation. But who was to say which one was the real Ranma and which was the alternate? Ranko’s world was just as real as Akane’s own, wasn’t it? She had a brief vision of hundreds—thousands—millions of alternate worlds, and felt a moment of vertigo. Thinking about this was enough to give anyone vertigo; she put it aside. She was glad she had her Ranma, annoying as he could be.

That led to another thought: Ranko seemed to share her view of Ranma’s irritating points, but also seemed to understand them. She didn’t seem to have any of these problems, but it sounded like she had in the past. Perhaps she could help Akane understand Ranma a little better. She was about to ask Ranko if she was willing to talk about what it had been like for her, being Ranma, when a voice called out from the genkan: “Gomen Kudasai…”

They looked at each other, and said “Yuka-chan…” simultaneously. They smiled, and rose to go greet their guest.

Guests, as it turned out; Sayuri was with her. Both girls’ jaws dropped when Ranko and Akane walked up together to greet them.

Akane smiled. “Come on in, guys.” They donned slippers and followed Akane and Ranko into the family room, where they all sat around the table.

Sayuri and Yuka just sat there, staring at Ranko, at a loss for words. Finally, Yuka managed, “You’re… you’re really a girl?!”

Ranko smiled and nodded. “My name is Saotome Ranko.”

Sayuri continued the interrogation. “And you’re from some kind of parallel world?” Ranko nodded. “And… yesterday… you said we were close friends?” Another nod. “So all of us are in that parallel world of yours, too?”

“Yes. That’s why I couldn’t figure out why you were staring at me like that yesterday. Now that I know about Ranma I guess I can understand.”

Sayuri and Yuka looked at each other, and blushed. Sayuri said, “I’m sorry about that. We thought you were Ranma, but… you know… with a screw loose or something.” Ranko laughed, and Sayuri and Yuka seemed to relax.

Sayuri looked over Akane and Ranko again. “So where’s Ranma? Is he in this other world?”

A voice came from the hall. “Naahhh. I don’t like takin’ long trips.” Everyone turned to find Ranma standing in the hall, wearing a fresh set of his favorite Chinese clothes. Sayuri and Yuka boggled, looking back and forth between Ranko and Ranma.

Yuka blinked and rubbed her eyes. “This is so weird.” She laughed. “I feel like some of Kunou-senpai’s insanity is rubbing off on me.”

Ranko and Ranma looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Ranma went over and turned on the TV, but mostly kept his attention on the conversation of the four young women.

Sayuri was observing Ranko carefully. “Since you said you didn’t realize you’d come here, I’m guessing you don’t know how it happened, right?” Ranko nodded. “Do you know how to get back?” The redhead’s face fell, and she shook her head.

Yuka piped up, “Didn’t you say everyone was the same here, too? Doesn’t that help?”

Ranko shook her head slowly, her mood suddenly much more somber. “It does help, but… everyone’s not quite the same.” She lowered her gaze.

Something in Akane’s heart twisted a little every time she saw Ranko feeling this way. “Why don’t you tell us about your world?” Maybe talking about it would help Ranko to feel better.

For the next half hour, Yuka, Sayuri, Akane, and—surreptitiously—Ranma listened to Ranko talk about her life. About how she had been Ranma, until her mother had found her again, and she had learned that she was really a girl. How that revelation had been the last straw for her waning ability to tolerate her male existence. About how she had painfully found her way back to something approximating her original self. About Akane, about Nabiki and Kasumi, about her parents and their rocky relationship, about her many friends at school, including Yuka, Sayuri, Ukyou, and… Shampoo, of all people. Especially about Akane, and how close they were; she opened her heart pendant and showed the picture inside to Yuka and Sayuri. About her violin lessons with Professor Murata, and her plans to be a violinist. About her friend Noriko and her daughter Miki. About everyone but one special person…

By the time she was almost done, her eyes were wet, for she wasn’t sure she would ever see any of her family and friends again, and she was feeling terribly homesick.

Akane again realized she hadn’t been seeing things from Ranko’s perspective; to Ranko, her own world was the “real” world, and Akane’s world was the strange alternate, where things weren’t quite right. Maybe getting Ranko to talk about home hadn’t been a good idea. Her heart ached for the redhead.

She was close to tears herself, and knew that the barrier she had tried to erect between them was crumbling. Ranko still made her uneasy at some level, but her nightmare had left Akane with the distinct impression that it wasn’t Ranko herself who she was uneasy about. And that uneasiness simply wasn’t enough any more.

For a long time now, Ranma had been able to reach out and touch her heart, and Ranko was simply following the same well-worn paths. The key of her personality, though different, was a close enough fit to open many of the same doors, as well as some different ones—Akane knew she cared for Ranko in a different way than she did for Ranma. But care for her she did. How could she love Ranma and not feel something for Ranko?

Finally, Ranko came to the person who was causing her the most anxiety. Everyone else was fairly similar to their versions back home, except… She lowered her voice nearly to a whisper. “And… there’s a boy… he and I…” She squeezed her eyes shut and didn’t say anything more, but she didn’t need to; everyone understood in an instant. Ranma swallowed nervously at this revelation; it made sense, but somehow, the idea had never occurred to him. He wished fervently that it had remained that way.

Yuka felt ashamed for her earlier question. “Ranko… Ranko-chan… I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll be able to get home. Ranma and Akane have overcome so many incredible challenges I’m sure they’ll be able to help you with this one.” Ranko nodded, still overcome.

Sayuri ventured, “Who is your boyfriend? Is he in this world, too? Would seeing him help?”

Ranko and Akane locked gazes, and Akane shook her head the tiniest bit, motioning towards Ranma with her eyes. Ranko nodded slightly. “I don’t think you’d know him, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t exist here.” It was only half a lie: the Hibiki Ryouga she was planning to marry was almost as different from his previous self as she was from hers. They’d both had to change before they could find each other. She imagined that “Ranma, prepare to die!” was probably still an oft-heard phrase around here.

Sayuri hadn’t missed the interchange. They’re hiding something. They don’t want Ranma to know who it is. Hmmmm. I’ll have to see if I can get it out of them later. “I see.”

Kasumi came in from the kitchen. “Would you all like some lunch now? Akane told me you were coming, so I made something.”

The four young women responded enthusiastically, and Kasumi retraced her steps. She paused, and turned back. “Akane, weren’t you planning to bake a cake tonight, for Ranma’s birthday tomorrow?” Akane nodded. “Would you like me to pick up the ingredients when I do the dinner shopping?”

Akane nodded and smiled. “Thanks, Oneechan.” Kasumi smiled and went back into the kitchen. Ranma turned a slightly pale color.

Something nagged at Sayuri’s mind. Hadn’t Ranko said… Her eyes darted over to the redhead, and found her biting her lip and looking very, very subdued. So, she hasn’t told anyone, and they haven’t figured it out… She stood up. “I think I’d like a glass of water; I’ll be right back.” She followed Kasumi into the kitchen.

Kasumi looked up from jotting on her shopping list, surprised. “Sayuri-chan, what is it? Do you need something?”

“Kasumi-san, did any of you know that tomorrow is Ranko’s birthday, too? Yesterday, before she knew what was going on, she told us she would see us at her party on Saturday.”

Kasumi turned pale and clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my! I never even thought of that! Of course they would have the same birthday! Oh, the poor thing…” She paused a moment to gather her thoughts. “We’ll have to do something… have a party for both of them…” She furrowed her brow in concentration for a few moments. “I’ll have to let Auntie and Uncle know, and Akane, too.” She looked up at Sayuri. “Sayuri-chan, thank you so much for telling me. I would never have forgiven myself if Ranko had had to sit through Ranma’s birthday tomorrow. I’ll take care of it.” She eyed Sayuri. “I don’t know if you were planning to come tomorrow for Ranma’s birthday, but would you…?”

Sayuri smiled. “I’d love to. I’m sure Yuka will, too. I’ll tell her later.” She frowned. “Ranko said her other close friends were Kuonji Ukyou and… Shampoo.”

Kasumi thought hard about that. “Well, I think Ukyou-chan is coming already, but I don’t know about Shampoo-chan. That could be… difficult. I’ll have to think about it.” This, of course, was Kasumi’s way of saying, “You have got to be kidding.”

Sayuri nodded, then had a flash of inspiration. “Say, maybe Ranko would like to see that boy she likes, too. Do you know who he is?”

Kasumi shook her head. “I didn’t see the picture from her purse. Akane, Nabiki, and Auntie Saotome did, though.” Sayuri bit her lip in disappointment.

She looked over to the table, where sandwiches were piled up. “Would you like me to help bring lunch out?” Kasumi beamed.

Soon they were all arrayed around the table munching on sandwiches, and the conversation flowed freely. Ranma came over to join them, and listened silently to the chatter among the four young women. As Akane and Ranko laughed about something, he felt a pang of jealousy. Why couldn’t he and Akane get along this well, this easily? Was it because Ranko was a girl? Hmmmm… maybe I should ask Ranko about it. Maybe she understands Akane better…

Ranko was talking about her violin. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have to practice after lunch. I have to practice for several hours every day.”

Akane chimed in. “She’s really good, too. She played last night.” Ranko blushed.

Yuka asked, “Would you mind if we stayed for a while and listened?”

Ranko shook her head. “Of course not! You can hear my new violin.” She winked. “I think I’m in love with it.” They all laughed.

Suddenly, Sayuri’s mind flashed back to the previous day, when Ranko had told them about her new violin. She had said something, something which hadn’t sunk in due to the shock Sayuri had been in at the time. “I can’t wait to play it at home tonight for Akane and Mother. I think I’ll call up Ryouga and ask him if he wants to come over and hear me play it, too.” Sayuri’s sandwich slipped from her nerveless fingers and landed with a plop on her plate.

Everyone stared at her. Akane asked, “Sayuri-chan? Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing,” said Sayuri as she retrieved her sandwich. As long as Ranko’s boyfriend doesn’t show up…

Kasumi hummed a cheery tune as she turned the corner and through the front gate of the Tendou home, toting two canvas bags full of groceries. She had a heavier than usual load today. With so many mouths to feed—some of them rather voracious—meals were always a major production for her; no one but Auntie really understood just what it took to keep such a large household running. And now they had one more mouth to feed, and on top of that two birthdays to celebrate tomorrow. Or maybe one, depending on how you looked at it.

Kasumi sighed slightly, as she was pretty sure she’d be living in the kitchen for the rest of the day. Between dinner, preparation for tomorrow’s celebration, and trying to keep Akane from committing a crime against the culinary arts, she’d have her hands full. Auntie would help, but it would still be a busy evening.

As she slid open the front door, her cry of “Tadaima” died on her lips; Ranko was still practicing her violin, and Kasumi didn’t want to disturb her. The teenager had been at it for over three hours now, and still seemed to be going strong. As Kasumi walked down the hall, she marveled at the difficulty of the pieces Ranko was working on, and the virtuosity she displayed. She hoped that Ranko would make it home to her own world soon, but wished wistfully that somehow, she could still follow the petite violinist’s career. She was sure it would be something to see.

Before ducking into the kitchen with her bundles, she took a peek into the family room, and blinked. As expected, Ranko was still kneeling at the table as she played, her music sheets spread out on it in lieu of a music stand. However, Akane and Ranma were also still sitting where they had been an hour and a half ago, when Kasumi had left to do her shopping. Sayuri and Yuka had left when she had, and she hadn’t expected her little sister and her fiancé to still be listening when she got back.

They were watching Ranko intently, utterly absorbed. Kasumi smiled, and went to put her groceries away.

A half hour later, as she was starting to get the dinner ingredients in order, she heard Ranko lose her way in a passage, and stop. She started again, but a few minutes later the same thing happened, and there was an irritated exclamation: “Mouuu!” Kasumi went out to check up on her.

She had put her violin down on the table, and was rubbing her eyes. “I think that’s all I can do for now. I didn’t sleep well enough last night.” As if to punctuate her statement, she yawned suddenly. “Oh, excuse me.”

“Ranko-chan, dinner is at least an hour away. Do you want to take a short nap?”

Ranko thought about it. “No… I think I’ll just go to bed a little earlier.” She eyed Kasumi in return. “Do you need any help in the kitchen, Oneechan?”

Oh, bless you. “Thank you, Ranko-chan. I’d love your help.”

Akane piped up, “I’ll help too, Oneechan!”

Kasumi and Ranko locked gazes, and an unvoiced sigh passed between the two of them. Ranko put her violin back in its case, and her music back in her portfolio. “Let me just put these up in Akane’s room and I’ll be right back.” She headed upstairs, and Akane followed Kasumi into the kitchen.

Ranma remained at the table, staring off at the koi pond. He had a slightly stunned, but very thoughtful look on his face.

Kasumi turned to Akane as soon as they were safely inside the kitchen. “Akane, there is something I needed to tell you in private. We’ll be celebrating two birthdays tomorrow.”

Akane looked blank for a moment. “Two?” Suddenly her eyes widened in understanding. “Ohmigosh! It’s her birthday, too, isn’t it?” Kasumi nodded. “Trust you to figure something like that out, Oneechan.”

Kasumi blushed. “I wish I had. Sayuri mentioned it, because Ranko told them yesterday that she’d see them at her party. Sayuri and Yuka will be coming tomorrow, by the way.”

Akane was frowning. “And we don’t have any presents or anything for her…” She looked up. “Oneechan… would you mind if I went out shopping instead of helping you with dinner? I’d like to get her just a little something, so she doesn’t feel left out.”

Kasumi tried hard for her “how thoughtful of you” smile, rather than her “I’m so relieved” smile. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Akane. I told Auntie earlier, and she said something similar; perhaps the two of you could go shopping together?”

Akane beamed. “I’ll go ask her! Thanks, Oneechan.” She left.

Ranko came in a few minutes later, to find Kasumi chopping vegetables. “Where’s Akane? I thought she wanted to help.” She went to rummage in Kasumi’s apron drawer.

Kasumi paused briefly. “She remembered an errand she had to run.”

Ranko turned from the apron drawer to look Kasumi in the eye. “Oh.” A smile slowly spread over her face, and Kasumi smiled in return.

The redhead turned back to the apron drawer. “Ah-hah!” She pulled out an apron with fishcake spirals on it. “My favorite.” She turned it this way and that. “It’s a lot cleaner than my version… I guess this one hasn’t been used as much.”

She put it on, and went to join Kasumi. “What would you like me to do?”

“Well, let’s see… I already started the rice, and I have pickles already made. I’m making vegetable tempura, a little bit of yakisakana—they had some nice mackerel at the market today—and miso soup. Do you feel up to any of that?”

“Oh, sure. I’m still learning, but I help you and my mother all the time, and I make dinner all by myself one night every couple of weeks or so, just to give you a night off. Do you want me to make dinner tonight?”

Kasumi tried hard to get her heart started again. “Ranko-chan… that would really be an enormous help to me. Would you?” The teenager smiled and nodded, and Kasumi hugged her on impulse. “Thank you!” She stepped away from the cutting board, and Ranko took her place.

The redhead looked over the vegetables. “Let’s see… for tempura. These are already washed, right?” Kasumi nodded. “OK.” Ranko picked up the colander holding the vegetables in one hand, and the knife in the other. Kasumi closed her eyes, knowing what was about to happen. Apparently, being a girl didn’t stop Ranko from taking Ranma’s approach to certain problems.

She heard a whirring sound like an electric fan, and the sounds of many small objects landing with a soft plop. She opened her eyes; the colander was full of neatly sliced vegetables. Ranko grinned. “My Kasumi-neechan doesn’t like to watch that either. But it’s just… so much faster.” She set the vegetables aside, and started collecting the ingredients for tempura batter, then stopped. “Whoops, better get the soup started.”

Kasumi watched for a few moments more, but Ranko did indeed seem to know what she was doing, so she went to work on the snacks for tomorrow: o-nigiri and mochi. Thanks to Ranko’s help, she wouldn’t be up late tonight, as she’d feared.

Akane and Nodoka ducked into the kitchen. “Oneechan, how long do we have before dinner?”

Ranko turned around. “Oh, I’m cooking tonight. About an hour, I think.” Akane and Nodoka’s eyes widened at the situation, but they merely nodded and left.

Ranma was still sitting at the table in the family room; he looked up as his mother and Akane hurried down the hall and out the front door. He wondered briefly where they were rushing off to, then turned his gaze back to the yard, and his mind back to… Ranko.

Her match against him that morning had already left Ranma somewhat surprised at her ability, and after watching her practice her violin, he was in shock. He’d recognized right away that she had adapted her martial arts skills—his martial arts skills—to the violin, and had watched her practice intently, the way he would watch a rival or a student spar.

He had to admit that if you viewed her violin through the eyes of a martial artist, she was extraordinarily skilled; every bit as skilled as he was. And that rocked Ranma’s view of the world for two reasons: first, she was a girl, and second, there was something other than martial arts to which it was possible to apply the natural talent they both shared. In fact, after watching her for a time, he’d felt some part of himself echo in response to her playing and the music. A part of him that wanted to pick up that violin and try it himself, a part he hadn’t known was there. That frightened him.

If Ranko, who was just as much a girl as Akane, was as talented as he was, if the violin could be as challenging—and rewarding—as martial arts was, then… then… that implied things Ranma wasn’t ready to accept. Things that went directly against the way he’d felt for as long as he could remember. Yet he couldn’t deny what he’d just spent nearly four hours watching.

Ranma felt his boundaries being pushed, and he didn’t like that feeling one little bit. He felt like he had left his frame of reference, the way medieval sailors went off the edge of the limited maps of the time. He was in terra incognita. And like those sailors, he now had no idea of where to go next.

“Itadakimasu!”

Ranko watched as the dinner she’d just worked so hard on started to disappear at high speed. She’d cooked dinner back home many times, but then she didn’t have Ranma to vacuum it up back home. Her father, as the only “Anything Goes” eater left in the family, had slowed down considerably in the absence of someone to battle with at the table. She sighed. You’d think they could at least take the time to enjoy it.

Souun was somewhat more appreciative. “Excellent as always, Kasumi.”

Kasumi smiled and shook her head. “Ranko made dinner tonight, Father. I hardly had to lift a finger.”

Several people blinked in surprise. Souun beamed at the redhead. “Ranko, I’m impressed. You’re an excellent cook.”

Nodoka nodded. “It’s very good, Dear. I’m sure you’ll make a fine wife for… that young man of yours.” Ranma winced slightly.

Ranko blinked. Again she had the odd feeling that this version of her mother was slightly different. She couldn’t remember her own mother ever making such a… well… sexist comment. She was actually a bit of a liberated woman by Japanese standards, even though her manner was very proper. “Thank you, I hope so. We’re planning to split the chores, though, so I have time for my career.” She smiled. “He’s been very understanding about that. He’s planning to run a dojo, so he’ll be able to watch the children when I work or travel.” Nodoka frowned slightly, but didn’t say anything.

Nabiki had stopped eating. “You mean, you and R…” her eyes flicked briefly in Ranma’s direction, “your boyfriend are already planning to get married?! You’re engaged?”

Ranko blushed. “Well, we’re not formally engaged. He knows I’m kind of… allergic to that. But yes, we are planning to get married, when I finish my training at the University.” Her face fell. “If… if I can get home, that is.”

Akane chimed in, “I’m sure we’ll be able to get you home, Ranko. Ranma has never let me down when something like this happens.” Akane felt a brief twinge of uneasiness, but wasn’t quite sure why. She put it aside.

Ranma felt proud, irritated, and more than a little queasy at the conversation, but a fourth emotion won out: curiosity. “So, your boyfriend is a martial artist? Anyone I know?”

“Yes, he’s a martial artist, but I don’t think you’ve ever met him.” It’s true. You’ve never been to my universe, so you’ve never met him.

Ranma wasn’t that easily dissuaded. “What’s his name?”

Ranko’s eyes shot to Nabiki, and silently uttered a single word. Help.

Nabiki smiled and held up two fingers: 2000 yen. She was shocked by the hurt look on Ranko’s face, a look that spoke of trust betrayed, a look that said I expected better from you. It flew like an arrow through the emotional armor Nabiki wore, straight to her heart. She flinched, and felt horribly guilty, though she wasn’t exactly sure why. Kasumi could do this to her, and sometimes Akane, but Ranma? Ranko had caught her by surprise, again. Nabiki didn’t like being off balance this way.

She decided to satisfy her nagging curiosity and bail Ranko out at the same time, by changing the subject. “Trust me, Ranma, you wouldn’t recognize Ranko’s boyfriend. I didn’t.” Because he looked happy. “Ranko, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I’ve noticed that you behave a little differently from our Ranma. You’re modest, for one thing—”

“Hey! I’m plenty modest!”

Nabiki rolled her eyes. “You’re considerate of other people’s feelings, and you apologize when necessary.” Ranma was glaring at Nabiki. “Is it just because you’re a girl? Were you always like this, even when you were a boy?”

Ranko shook her head, and blushed. “No, I was different when I was a boy. But I had… a lot of problems then.”

Akane’s curiosity was piqued. “Like what, Ranko? Do… do you mind talking about it?”

Ranko’s gaze traveled around the table; they were all familiar faces. The faces of her family. Akane was smiling at her gently, encouragingly.

She hesitated for a long moment, blushing. “I… I guess not.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “Well, I think it was a combination of who I was and the way I was raised. Father raised me on the road for twelve years, and practically all he ever told me was that I had to be manly, that I had to be a ‘man amongst men.’ He thought he was doing me a favor, trying to help me cope with being a boy. But I didn’t feel like a boy inside, and so it just made me feel miserable and inadequate instead, like I was a complete failure who’d never measure up to his expectations. I was very insecure about my manhood. So to me, martial arts became the way to prove to myself and to Father that I was a guy.” Akane nodded sympathetically.

Ranko blushed and looked down. “Since it was the only way I could feel good about myself, I had a really unhealthy attitude about it. I didn’t just want to do my best; I do that now with my violin. I wanted to win, no matter what it took. I was obsessed with winning.” She laughed. “You wouldn’t believe some of the things I did.”

Ranko was still looking down, embarrassed at the confession she was making, and so didn’t notice that everyone else was looking as if they’d seen a ghost. Akane swallowed. “Like what?”

Ranko turned a brighter red. “Well… Ucchan knows this pest named Tsubasa, a cross-dressing boy who’s always trying to hit on her. Maybe he exists here, too. Once, he challenged me to a contest selling okonomiyaki to see who would ‘get’ Ucchan; he thought I was a girl at the time. Now of course, Ucchan wasn’t interested in Tsubasa, and I didn’t care about Ucchan except as a friend. But I couldn’t walk away from a challenge, no matter how stupid it was. Tsubasa looked really cute and all the boys bought okonomiyaki from him, not knowing he was really a boy. But they thought I was a boy, even though I wasn’t really, and so they avoided me. It’s kind of funny if you think about it. And then Tsubasa told me I was… homely.”

She paused for a long moment. “Now, since I felt like a girl inside that really, really hurt. And I couldn’t stand the idea of losing. So I dressed up in a… a…” she trailed off.

You could have heard a pin drop in the Tendou family room. If you had a vivid imagination, you might have thought you heard the sound of someone slowly turning to stone. “In a what?” asked Akane, her voice a hoarse whisper.

In a tiny voice, Ranko continued, “In a bunny suit, of all things. Can you believe it? It’s so embarrassing to talk about it now.” She sighed. “Well, it worked. The boys swarmed me like flies on honey, and I won. So here I am trying to prove to myself I’m a man by winning, and I do it by dressing up as a girl, and an easy girl at that.” She shook her head. “And that wasn’t the first time I did it, not by far. I had already worn the bunny suit when I fought Mousse for the first time. I pretended to be Ryouga’s fiancée once to break up a date he had with Akane, because I didn’t approve of him. Now that’s ironic.” She laughed. “Anyway, if posing as a girl would help me win, I did it. I’d do anything.”

Ranma wished he could find a hole to crawl into, though he wondered briefly why breaking up that date between Ryouga and Akane was ironic.

“I posed as a girl so much, I’m sure I was partly doing it because I wanted to. So I could express some of the feelings I had bottled up inside.”

If it were possible to make a martial art out of cringing, Ranma would have managed it just then.

“And that wasn’t all. Since I was trying to prove myself all the time, I always got mad when people tried to help me in my fights. Especially a girl, like Akane. And because I was so insecure, I bragged all the time, and put women down. I insulted Akane constantly.” She bit her lip. “I’m really ashamed of some of the things I did. They hurt Akane, a lot.” She stopped talking.

Ranma was moving beyond cringing into catatonia.

Nabiki tried to wet her lips, which were quite dry. “So… so what changed?”

Ranko’s lips formed the hint of a smile. “I found out I was really a girl. When that happened, I felt like this huge burden had been lifted. I didn’t have to prove that I was a ‘man amongst men’ any more. I stopped caring about it, even while I was still a boy, before I became a girl again. I stopped being obsessed with winning, I stopped bragging all the time, and I started getting along with Akane a lot better. I started caring about things other than martial arts, like school, and having friends. It was such a relief, not to have to bear that cross any more.”

She blew out her breath. “So all of that was just because I was so desperate to prove I was a man. I’ve talked it over with… my boyfriend, and he tells me many guys are a little insecure that way, but I was really over the top. He and I laugh about it now.”

There was a long silence, and Ranko finally looked up. She found everyone staring at Ranma, who was staring back at Akane. They both had a rather wild look in their eyes. Ranko looked around, bewildered. What was going on?

Akane’s heart was racing. Everything Ranko had said… it all fit. But did that mean that… that Ranma felt like a girl inside, too? Her heart sank as she remembered incident after incident where Ranma had posed as a girl. He’d even gone out to teach his mirror clone how to pick up guys! Her mind flashed back to the day when Ranma had actually thought he was a girl; had he just been acting out his inner desires?

And… when Ranma was in his girl form, the two of them usually got along better. No question about it. Her nightmare came back to her full force, and she felt ill. Now she understood: Ranko had made her uneasy because she was the embodiment of some things about Ranma that had bothered her for a long time.

Ranma knew exactly what everyone was thinking. “It ain’t true! It ain’t like that for me! I’m a guy!” He swallowed when he saw a hint of pity creep into Akane’s gaze along with the fear, and his mother unconsciously fingering her katana. Genma and Souun were rigid with shock.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” drawled Nabiki.

“It ain’t true! What do I haveta do to convince all of you?”

Ranko’s jaw was hanging open. If she was understanding all this correctly, then… Ranma acted like she had when she was a boy. Why on Earth would he do that, unless… unless… Oh, Kami-sama…

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. “So Ranma, if it ‘ain’t true,’ then why did Ranko just describe you to a T when she talked about the way she used to be?”

Ranma frowned. “I… I dunno. But I ain’t a girl!” He looked Akane in the eye again. “Akane… I’m a guy. I don’t wanna be a girl. You gotta believe me.” She nodded uncertainly, her eyes a little wet.

Ranko’s head was awhirl. If Ranma was really a guy, what could possibly make him act the same way she had? Father wouldn’t have pushed him unmercifully to be a “man amongst men,” because Ranma was already a guy, right? What reason could he have had? 

And why did Mother keep fingering her katana?

Chapter Text

Akane bit her lip and looked down. “I want to believe him, but… what you told us is so eerily similar to all the things he’s done.” She looked up at Ranko, fear written plain in her eyes. “He… he did that whole thing with Tsubasa, just like you said. Even… even the bunny suit…” She trailed off.

Ranko nodded sympathetically. “Go on.” Dinner had ended on a rather shell-shocked note, and they were both sitting on Akane’s bed, having fled upstairs for a private chat.

“I mean, he says that all the time. That he’s a guy, that he hates his curse. But he poses as a girl so often… and there was that time he hit his head. He may have acted like a stereotype, but he was so happy. So relaxed. J-just like you; that’s why I thought it had happened again. Does… does he really want to be a girl?”

Ranko felt an uneasy sense of deja vu. She wouldn’t wish what she had had to go through on anyone, even though it had been the right thing to do for her. It was too painful. She hoped fervently that this Ranma was not in the same boat she had been in when she had been a boy. But then, why would he be acting the same way if he weren’t?

“I don’t know, Sis. He’s probably the only one who can tell us for sure. Maybe he doesn’t even know himself. I certainly had trouble figuring out what was bothering me.”

Akane clutched at Ranko’s arm. “Ranko, I’m… I’m scared. I’ve been scared of losing him to his curse for a long time now. That’s what my nightmare was about last night. And I think you symbolized that; that’s why I was so uncomfortable with you.” She suddenly noticed what she was doing, and smiled sheepishly. “I guess I’m over that.” They both shared a quiet chuckle.

“And that’s another thing… I know I don’t want him to be a girl, but we definitely get along better when he is one. We don’t fight as much. I don’t know why.”

Ranko nodded, but didn’t say anything. The same thing had been true for her; she and Akane had gotten along better when she had been “Ranma-chan.” She didn’t think mentioning that would help right now, though.

There was a knock on Akane’s door. “Akane? It’s me, Kasumi.”

Akane went to the door, Ranko behind her. “What is it, Oneechan?”

“It’s getting a little late. If you want to work on that birthday cake, shouldn’t we get started?” Kasumi noticed the little twitch in Ranko’s eyes at the word “birthday.”

Akane looked back at Ranko reluctantly. “I guess so… Maybe we can talk some more later?”

Ranko smiled. “Sure. Do you want me to come help with the baking?” Akane held her breath.

Kasumi shook her head. “No, Ranko-chan. You’ve already done enough in the kitchen today. You were so tired earlier, and you should rest.”

Ranko nodded slowly. “Well, if you’re sure…” Kasumi nodded, and Akane blew out her breath in relief. She didn’t want Ranko to see what was going on in the kitchen tonight.

Of course, Ranko didn’t really want to see what was going to happen in the kitchen tonight, but she’d felt guilty about leaving Kasumi to deal with it all by herself. Maybe her mother would help. Anyway, she’d offered and so had a clear conscience.

Kasumi turned to leave, and Akane followed her. Ranko watched them go down the stairs. Then she said quietly, “They’re gone. You can come down now.”

Ranma winced and dropped from his hiding place; he had been clinging to the ceiling. “Howd’ya know I was there?”

She laughed softly. “I spent twelve years running away from unpaid bills with Father. I learned to be aware of my surroundings.” Ranma snorted, and they shared a chuckle, then sobered.

“I take it Kasumi-neechan surprised you while you were eavesdropping?”

Ranma nodded, and looked down. “I… I wanted to see how Akane felt about all the stuff you talked about at dinner. She seems to have an easier time talkin’ to you about this kinda stuff. And… I wanna understand why she has an easier time talkin’ to you. Me an’ her, we can’t ever seem to just have a nice quiet talk the way the two of you do.” Again, he fought down a pang of jealousy.

Ranko nodded. “I see. And how do you feel about what I talked about at dinner?”

Ranma averted his eyes. “I don’t know why everyone thinks it’s got somethin’ to do with me.”

Ranko sighed. “Oh, please. Save the evasions for everyone else, and remember who you’re talking to. You can’t BS me, Ranma.”

Ranma winced and blushed crimson, and didn’t say anything for a minute. Ranko tugged on his sleeve. “Come on. The hall isn’t a good place for this conversation.” He hesitated. “What’s wrong?”

Ranma mumbled, “Just a minute…” and went off. A minute later, a damp redhead returned. She answered the question in Ranko’s eyes: “It’s easier to talk about feelin’s’n stuff this way.”

Ranko nodded warily; she’d done the same thing herself. The two of them went into Akane’s room. As they closed the door, Nabiki’s opened.

Ranko sat in Akane’s desk chair, and swiveled around to face her double sitting on the bed. “Well?” she asked simply.

Ranma sighed. “Yeah. I guess I did all the same stuff you talked about.” She looked Ranko in the eye. “But I meant it. I’m a guy. I don’t wanna be a girl.”

Ranko raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t want to be a girl, why are we having a girl-to-girl chat right now?”

Ranma winced again. “I told you, it’s easier to talk about some things this way. Guys aren’t supposed to talk about their feelin’s’n stuff like that. That don’t mean I like bein’ a girl.”

Ranko regarded the other redhead carefully. “Do you like being a guy?”

Ranma looked confused, and said earnestly, “Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”

Ranko closed her eyes momentarily in relief, even as she felt a little queasy. The idea of a male version of herself was still a little disquieting, though she was getting used to Ranma. “All right, I think I believe you.”

“Nobody else does. You heard ’em.”

“I have to admit, I don’t understand it at all. I don’t know why you do so many of the things I did, if you feel like a guy. After all, you were born a boy, so you didn’t have your father beating you over the head incessantly to be a man, be manly, be a man amongst men…” She trailed off at the confused expression on Ranma’s face. “Wait… did Father do all that to you, too?” Ranma nodded vigorously. “But why? What was the point? You were a boy already!”

Ranma was staring back at her. “You don’t know, do you? I guess you wouldn’t, since you’re Mom’s daughter in your world, and Pop ran off with you without tellin’ Mom.”

“Know what?”

“About the promise Pop made to Mom.”

Ranko was utterly bewildered. “Promise? What promise?”

“When he took me away on our trainin’ trip. She wasn’t keen on not seein’ me for ten years. To talk her into it, Pop promised he’d make me a ‘man amongst men.’” Ranma shook her head. “And to prove he meant it, he wrote up this contract that said if I wasn’t, we’d both commit seppuku.”

Ranko laughed nervously. “Be serious, will you? Even Father… wouldn’t…” She trailed off at Ranma’s expression. “Oh, Kami-sama…” She turned pale, and gripped the arms of Akane’s chair tightly.

She needed a few moments to regain her composure. “But… you were a child… how could you even sign it?!”

“He tricked me into puttin’ my handprints on it.”

“But surely Mother wouldn’t take something like that seriously…” Ranma nodded sadly. “No… no… not Mother. She’s not like that… She’s not an idiot like Father is… Mother… how… how could you?!” Tears were running down her cheeks. How could her mother, a wise, sensible, tolerant woman, a woman Ranko idolized, do something as loony as that?!

Ranma looked on uncomfortably, her fingers tapping nervously on the comforter. “I’m sorry. It bugs me, too.”

“But why? Why would Mother do something like that?”

Ranma sighed. “She’s real old-fashioned and traditional.”

Ranko shook her head. “My mother is certainly a lady, but that’s just the style she’s comfortable with. She would never take something like that contract seriously.” Again she wondered why her mother was different in this world. She tried to regain her composure. “Anyway, so you had this stupid contract…”

“Pop was terrified Mom’d call him on it, I guess, so he was always poundin’ on me to be manly. When I fell in the Nyanniichuan, he really got frantic. When Mom started visitin’, we hid as ‘Tendou Ranko’ and her pet panda.”

“So what did Mother think when she found out?”

“She thought ‘Ranko’ was already plenty manly enough. She didn’t care what my body looked like, it turns out. I guess we were lucky.”

Ranko nodded thoughtfully. “So if you don’t want to be a girl, why do you pose as one so much?”

Ranma looked off to the side and thought. “I guess… it’s handy. It’s good for disguises, it confuses opponents and throws ’em off.” She grinned. “I do it to Ryouga constantly, and I fool him every time.” Ranko suddenly turned pale. “Hey, you said you did that once, right? So you got Ryouga in your world.”

Ranko fidgeted. “Ummm, yes.”

“I bet he really freaked when he found out you were a girl. He probably apologized and got more friendly, right?”

“Uhhh… you could say that…”

Ranma nodded. “Anyway, like I said, I can also do stuff I can’t do as a guy. Talk about feelin’s, be friends with girls, eat ice cream parfaits.” She blushed and looked down. “Talk to Akane a little better.”

Ranko frowned. “Why can’t you do those things as a guy?”

Ranma looked at Ranko as if she were an idiot. “Guys don’t do stuff like that!”

Ranko was thunderstruck. Apparently, being raised by Saotome Genma was enough to screw anybody up, girl or boy. “So, Ryouga never talks about his feelings?”

Ranma looked confused. “Well—”

“And Uncle Tendou is unmanly because he cries?”

Ranma fidgeted uncomfortably. “Ummm—”

“OK, bad example. And Dr. Toufuu was unmanly because he was kind?”

“’Course not!”

“And Hiroshi and Daisuke are unmanly because they’re friends with me?”

“Heh… I didn’t mean it that way…”

“And Father wouldn’t eat an ice cream parfait if it was sitting in front of him?”

Ranma frowned. “Pop would eat anythin’ if it was sittin’ in front of him.”

Ranko nodded. “Ranma, I used to think the same way you do. But over the last seven months, I’ve learned that it is OK for guys to do things like that.” She leaned forward. “I found out from Father that even he didn’t believe all that nonsense about manliness. He was just telling it to me to try to reinforce my manhood. It backfired, of course, but that’s kind of par for the course for Father.” She regarded Ranma carefully. “The real question is, do you think you’re manly?”

Ranma spluttered, “’Course I am!”

Ranko shook her head. “No. Don’t give me the canned answer. I used to say the same thing.” Ranma blushed. “Tell me how you really feel. I swear I won’t tell anyone else. On my honor as a martial artist.”

Ranma looked down, and was silent for a long time. Ranko went over to the bed, sat next to her twin, and took her hand. Ranma winced, but didn’t object. “You can tell me. It’s OK. After all, you’re just talking to yourself, right?” Ranma smiled a tiny smile.

Finally, she looked up, her face crimson with shame, and spoke in a small voice. “Pop is always tellin’ me I act like a girl, and now I got this curse. And I keep hurtin’ Akane. How can I be manly?” She poked herself in the bosom. “Does this look manly?” She looked down again, her lips a thin line.

Ranko thought for a while. “Ranma, what does being ‘manly’ really mean, anyway? Is the curse that important? Akane told me you fought and killed a god to save her life.” Ranma nodded. “That doesn’t sound to me like a person who’s unmanly, who should be ashamed of who they are. You’re a good person. You’re a great martial artist. Isn’t that what really counts?” Ranma looked pensive. “Just be yourself, and don’t worry so much about whether you’re manly.”

Ranma whispered, “But I’m a guy. I’m supposed to act like one.”

Ranko nodded. “I know. But you don’t have to be macho all the time to be a guy. When I was a macho guy, I wasn’t really a man; I was a fake.” She sighed. “Men have feelings, you know. Men cry sometimes. Men even eat ice cream parfaits.” She grinned, and Ranma smiled faintly. “You can have a girl’s body and still be a man. It sounds like Mother understands that.”

“But Pop keeps sayin’…”

“We both know he’ll say whatever it takes to get what he wants. And if he thought you needed to be as manly as possible…”

Ranma thought about that. “Well… he is pretty desperate about that seppuku pledge.” Ranko nodded emphatically. “I dunno… maybe… And what about Akane? How come we get on better when I’m like this? How come she gets along so well with you?”

“I haven’t really watched the two of you, and I don’t remember that well from when I was a guy, so I’m not sure. I did get along better with Akane when I was in my girl form, but I’m not sure why. I didn’t really get along well with her until I stopped insulting her and acting like a macho jerk.”

Ranma glared. “She insults me, too, y’know!”

Ranko shrugged. “She stopped insulting me when I stopped insulting her, and tried to be her friend.” She paused, remembering something that had happened right after she had learned she was a girl. “You know, I had a talk with Dr. Toufuu when I was trying to decide whether to be a girl again. He told me that my sexist views about men and women made it difficult for me to relate to women well, and he was right.”

She smiled a very Kasumi-like smile, catching Ranma by surprise. “If you really care about Akane—or any woman—you need to start trying to change that. You’ll never be able to get along with her until you do. If you’re going to marry her and make it last a lifetime, you need to be her friend, Ranma—not just her love interest.”

Her smile changed to a wry grin. “Believe me, I understand the female viewpoint on relationships a lot better now. And I understand Akane a lot better. She’s a lot like me, and that means she’s a lot like you, too. If you start treating her with respect, and as a friend, I think you’ll be amazed.”

Ranma looked very unsure of herself. “I… I dunno. I guess that all makes sense, but… I’ll… I’ll think about it.” She looked Ranko in the eye. “What about Mom?”

“If she can deal with you having a girl’s body sometimes, I think she can deal with you eating an ice cream parfait or expressing your feelings. I don’t notice her pulling her katana on Uncle Tendou.” Ranma nodded but didn’t otherwise respond.

Ranko’s eyes narrowed. Besides, I think she and I need to have a little chat, too.

Akane turned over on her side and peered at her temporary roommate, curled up in the futon on the floor. Tonight, she was just a few feet away, not on the other side of the room. She’d already been in her futon when Akane had stumbled in from her culinary Vietnam in the kitchen. “Ranko?” she whispered.

“Mmmm?”

“You’re still awake? It’s nearly midnight. I thought you were tired.”

“I am tired. I was tired last night, too.” She sighed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just feel… really homesick. I’m fine during the day; everyone is close enough to my family that it feels familiar. I hardly even think about it. But at night, lying here trying to go to sleep, I think about home. About my Akane. My mother and father. My big sisters. And… and my… boyfriend.” She bit her lip, suddenly wondering why she hadn’t wanted to be formally engaged; she wished she could have called him her fiancé just now. “I miss them, and I wonder what’s happening to them. I’ve been gone for a day and a half now, and they must think someone murdered me for my violin or something.” There was a long pause. “I want to go home.” There was a sniffle.

“Ranko… I’m sure we’ll get you home. And we may not be the family you know, but we’re still your family. What Auntie said goes for all of us, I think: if you do get stuck here, you’ve got a family. A family that will love you.” Maybe… some of us already do. “Hang in there, OK?” Ranko made a noise that sounded like agreement, and another sniffle.

Akane really wanted to continue the conversation about Ranma from earlier that evening, but now didn’t seem like an appropriate time. She’d have to wait until tomorrow. “There must be a reason you were brought here. If we can figure out what it is, maybe we can figure out how to send you back.” Again, Akane felt a little tinge of uneasiness.

Ranko took a while to reply. “Maybe. But so far, we don’t have any clues. If whoever or whatever brought me here didn’t leave any, I don’t know how we’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe we could go see Cologne. She always seems to have some idea or suggestion.”

Ranko brightened a little. “You’re right. She helped me a lot when I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do.”

“We could even go see her tomorrow. Maybe she’ll be able to give us some leads we can follow.”

Ranko grew subdued again. “Yeah. Tomorrow…”

Akane glanced over at the clock. “Later today, actually. It’s after midnight. I guess we really ought to get to sleep.”

Suddenly, a muffled sniff emanated from the futon, followed by soft crying noises. Akane got out of bed and knelt next to her roommate, putting a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

The other girl’s head shook back and forth. “It’s just… I… I really wanted to get home before… before… now.”

Akane bit her lip. She’d wanted to surprise Ranko in the morning, but she needed a little TLC right now. She started rubbing the redhead’s back. “Come on now, we can’t have the birthday girl in tears.”

Ranko turned over to face Akane, her wet eyes wide with surprise. “You… you knew?”

Akane smiled and nodded, and was startled when Ranko started to cry even more. She sighed and gathered the smaller girl into her embrace. “Tell me what hurts, OK?”

“It… it was going to be my first birthday in thirteen years as myself. My first birthday in thirteen years with Mother, and my sisters, with cake and presents and not having to fight Father for campfire rice as if it were any other day of the year. My first birthday with… with Ryouga. It was going to be so… suh… special…” She sobbed into Akane’s shoulder, while Akane kept rubbing her back and making soothing noises.

“I know it’s not home, but we’ll try our best to make it special, OK?” Ranko nodded wordlessly, her face still in Akane’s shoulder.

Eventually, the crying stopped, and Ranko’s breathing became regular. Akane gently lowered her onto the futon, and covered her up. She gazed at the sleeping redhead, and smiled. Sometimes a hug can do wonders.

She watched the covers gently rise and fall for a minute. Ranko was so similar to Ranma, but so different, too. Both were emotional, but Ranma guarded his feelings carefully, while Ranko’s were out in the open, on full display—and thus unshielded. If Akane hadn’t known just how passionate Ranma was behind the studied indifference, she would have had a hard time believing that he could become this girl.

She smiled, bemused. She didn’t want Ranma to be a girl, but it might not be a bad thing if he opened up a little more. If he cried every once in a while.

Akane climbed back into bed, and plotted birthday ideas until sleep overtook her.

Cheep.

Akane suddenly became aware of morning light beating on the other side of her still-closed eyelids as the outside world slowly started to seep back into her consciousness.

Cheep. Chitter chitter.

The sounds of the birds outside her window made their way through her ears and added to the barrage of sensory information. There seemed to be some kind of convention going on out in the garden.

Cheep cheep. Chitter.

She became aware of the pressure on her side from lying on it too long, and rolled over on her back. She felt and heard the rustle of the sheets, the creak of the bedsprings. The comforter tickled her nose. She sighed; she was awake.

She rolled over on her other side and found herself looking at a familiar face surrounded by a riot of red hair. As she watched, the eyes squeezed shut a little tighter, and there was a faint little “Mmmm” of protest at the boorish avian conventioneers outside.

She smiled. “Happy Birthday.”

There was another “Mmmm,” which might have been a sound of pleased acknowledgement.

“Does the birthday girl want to spar, or sleep in?”

The birthday girl gave an emphatic “Mmmm!” and pointedly buried her face in her pillow.

Akane laughed  softly. “I see. I’ll come roust you later.”

There was no response. “I’ll take that as an OK.” She rose, dressed quietly, and slipped from the room.

A few minutes later, as she approached the family room, she heard Kasumi’s voice. “Maybe a little higher on your side, Auntie?”

“Yes, I think so, Dear.”

Akane smiled as she came into the room; Kasumi and Ranma’s mother were on stepstools, each holding one end of a long string from which hung cutout characters saying “Happy Birthday Ranma and Ranko!” They were fastening the ends near the ceiling. “Good morning Auntie, Oneechan.” The two other women responded in kind.

“Where is Ranko, Dear?”

“She wanted to sleep in this morning. I’ll go prod her in a little while.”

Nodoka stepped down and surveyed their handiwork. “It looks nice, Kasumi-chan.”

Kasumi beamed and stepped down as well. “Thank you for your help, Auntie.” She started to fold the stepstools.

“Not at all, Dear; after all, it’s my son’s birthday.” She paused for a moment, and added thoughtfully, “And… my daughter’s.”

Suddenly, from outside, there came the sounds of a crash, followed by an enormous splash in the koi pond. They rushed to the porch to find a rather peeved-looking panda sitting in the pond. It held up a sign. “Show more respect for your father, Boy!”

They looked up to Ranma’s window; a redheaded girl was leaning out, wearing pajamas. Akane blinked; this was getting really confusing. The redhead shouted, “I told ya last night I wanted to sleep in on my birthday, not spar! You didn’t haveta use a bucket on me!” Definitely Ranma, not Ranko.

Another sign. “You’re getting too soft!”

“At least I ain’t soft in the head, like you!” She slammed the window shut. The panda started to extricate itself from the pond, and the three women turned back inside, where they found themselves face to face with… a redheaded girl wearing pajamas. She was rubbing her eyes. Akane blinked again.

The panda came up behind them and flashed another sign. “So, you’ve come to your senses?”

The redhead stared, confused. “Come to my senses about what, Father?” Suddenly, Akane noticed the unbound hair. This one was Ranko.

The panda flipped its sign. “Oops. Wrong redhead. Never mind.” It headed into the kitchen.

Ranko yawned hugely. “What was all the racket? I wanted to sleep some more.”

Nodoka smiled. “Your father and Ranma were having a disagreement about training, Dear. Oh, and Happy Birthday.”

Kasumi nodded and smiled. “Happy Birthday, Ranko-chan.”

Genma reentered the room, somewhat sodden. “Yes, Happy Birthday, child.”

Ranko looked around and smiled, a little teary. “Thank you.” Her eyes found the banner, and her mouth opened in surprise. “You all knew, didn’t you?”

Kasumi laughed. “We managed to figure it out.”

Nodoka smiled. “Are you going to spend your birthday lounging around in your pajamas, young lady?”

Ranko blushed slightly. “I forgot to get something out of Ranma’s closet before I went to bed last night, and I didn’t want to disturb him this morning.”

Akane grinned. “Today, I’ve got something for you that isn’t in Ranma’s closet.” Ranko raised her eyebrows in query. “Come on.” She took Ranko by the hand, and led her back up the stairs.

As they reached the head of the stairs, they came face to face with another redhead, wearing Chinese clothes. Akane and Ranko chorused, “Happy Birthday, Ranma.” Akane added, “I thought you wanted to sleep in?”

Ranma fumed. “I did, but I couldn’t get back to sleep after the old man woke me up and got me all wet. Now I gotta go change back.” She moved to go past Akane. Akane didn’t budge.

Ranma looked up. “What?”

Akane cleared her throat. “It’s someone else’s birthday today, too.” Her eyes motioned in Ranko’s direction.

Ranma stared blankly for a second; then her eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, yeah. I guess that makes sense. Happy Birthday, kiddo.” She grinned. “I guess this time ’round, we’re twins.” Ranko smiled and nodded. Ranma went downstairs in search of hot water, and Akane continued on into her room, Ranko right behind her. Ranma stopped at the bottom of the stairs, suddenly lost in thought. Twins…

Akane sat Ranko down on her bed, then went over to her closet and started rummaging. “It’s in here somewhere…”

“Is this one of your outfits, Sis?” Ranko bit her lip; Akane’s clothes never really fit her quite right.

“No, it’s something I got for Ranma.”

Ranko blinked. “For Ranma?”

Akane laughed. “That sounds a little strange, doesn’t it? It was that time when he hit his head and thought he was a girl. Hmmm, what’s the best way to explain this?” She paused for a moment, thinking. “You see, I was trying to force him… well, her, I guess, at least for that one day… I was trying to force her to stay in her guy form, hoping she’d get back to normal. She came shopping with me, and was running around checking out all the clothes and the lingerie—remember, this is while she was a guy. We were getting all sorts of stares. Finally, she needed to use the restroom, and I tried to make her go to the men’s room. She was in tears and just couldn’t do it. I finally took pity on her and poured some cold water on her, but she was still upset. I felt so guilty I bought her a dress she liked to cheer her up.” Akane blushed slightly, remembering. Ranko’s jaw was agape at all this.

Akane collected her thoughts. “Anyway, once she was a he again, he didn’t want it, and I couldn’t return it because he… she had worn it. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking when I bought it.” She sighed. “It was 35,600 yen.”

“35,600 yen?!” Ranko shook her head. “So how did he get back to normal?”

Akane blushed again, more deeply this time. “Umm… a blow to the head.” Ranko decided she wouldn’t press, but she had a pretty good idea how that had happened.

Akane brightened. “Ah ha!” She reached back into the recesses of her closet and pulled out a dress. It was a white sundress, with ruffles on the straps and along the hem of the billowy skirt. It had a white bow on the bodice. She held it up for Ranko’s inspection. “So, what do you think?”

Ranko stood up and came over to get a closer look. “Hmmm… well, it’s a little frillier than what I normally go for, but…” her eyes came up and met Akane’s, “it definitely says, ‘Birthday Girl!’” They grinned at each other.

“Akane! Ranko-chan! Breakfast is ready!” Kasumi peered up the stairs; the two had been upstairs for a half hour.

“Coming, Oneechan…” Kasumi smiled and walked back down the hall, then stopped and blinked. Had that been Akane or Ranko?

A couple of minutes later Akane and Ranko entered the family room, and Kasumi exclaimed “Ranko-chan, you look wonderful!”

Everyone turned to look, and Nodoka’s heart caught in her throat. Ranko was wearing a very feminine white sundress, one she hadn’t seen before among her son’s female wardrobe. Her hair had been brushed until it shone, and was carefully gathered together with an ornament. Though Ranko wasn’t wearing a trace of makeup, Nodoka was struck by what a beautiful young woman she was. She looks so much like I did when I was that age…

Their eyes found each other, and Ranko smiled a shy smile, a smile which asked, “Do you like it, Mother?” Once again, Nodoka felt herself losing her battle to keep from thinking of Ranko as her own daughter. She knew it would cause her pain when Ranko returned to her own world, but she couldn’t help herself.

She shook herself and smiled back. “You look lovely, Dear. What a beautiful dress! Is that one of Ranma’s? I don’t remember buying it.” Kasumi chimed in her agreement. Nabiki was thinking how much Kunou would pay for photographs of his pigtailed goddess in this dress, and resolved to take some before the day was over. Genma was musing that maybe… maybe it would have been nice to have a daughter as well as a son…

Ranma himself was busy staring at the dress; it looked familiar, and he was trying to remember where he’d seen it before.

Akane and Ranko exchanged glances. “It’s one I bought for Ranma that time he thought he was a girl, Auntie.” Ranma, his memory jogged, turned slightly pink.

Nodoka merely raised an eyebrow and nodded. Ranko and Akane went to sit down, and Ranko caught her father watching her silently. She smiled at him, and a smile crept onto his face as well.

After they had started eating, Nodoka turned to her son. “So, Dear, have you thought about what you are going to do on your birthday?”

Ranma looked off to one side. “Not really. I dunno, probably just work out a bit, and hang out here, with… my family.” Again, he blushed slightly. “Kasumi, you said everyone was comin’ over this afternoon for the party?” Kasumi nodded.

Nodoka turned to Ranko. “And you, Dear?”

Ranko and Akane exchanged glances. “Actually, we were planning to go visit… umm, Cologne.” Akane nodded agreement.

A hush fell over the table. “Really, Dear? Why?”

Ranko blushed slightly. “Akane and I talked about it last night. We thought she might have some idea what happened to me, and how to get me home.”

Nodoka tried hard to ignore the twinge of uneasiness she felt at that last. “That sounds like a good plan. She seems very knowledgeable about magic and such.”

Ranko turned to Ranma. “Ranma? I was kind of hoping you would come along.”

That brought Ranma up short. “Huh? Me? What for?”

“It would save a whole lot of explaining. When I told my Cologne that I was a girl, she didn’t believe me at first. Please?”

Ranma sighed. He wasn’t exactly keen to see Shampoo after the wedding debacle. “Sure, I guess.”

After breakfast Akane, Ranko, and Ranma headed for the door. Ranko scanned the shoe rack and pursed her lips. “Ranma doesn’t have anything that goes with this dress. My loafers don’t really go either, but I guess they’ll have to do.”

Akane thought for a moment. “Wait a second, I’ll be right back.” She scurried up the stairs, and returned a minute later with a shoe box, from which she pulled a pair of white heels. “We bought these at the same time.” Ranma looked rather uncomfortable.

Akane frowned as a possible problem occurred to her. “You can handle heels, right?”

Ranko snorted. “When you’re my height, it’s a good idea to learn.” Akane giggled. They donned their shoes, and left.

As had been the case for the last few days, the weather was gorgeous. The sun shone brightly from a sky which was clear save for a few high, thin clouds, and the air, while crisp, was warm enough to be comfortable, though Ranko’s sleeveless dress left her feeling a little chilly. She sighed; seven months as a girl had taught her that the price of looking pretty was often discomfort of one kind or another. She was grateful for the warmth of the sunshine.

As they walked along the main Fuurinkan-cho shopping street, the trio noticed that they were on the receiving end of a fair number of stares. The three of them were astonished; it seemed as if they were running into most of the student body of Fuurinkan. It was almost like someone had arranged it.

Sadly, one of them was Kunou. He did a double-take, he blinked, and then he smiled triumphantly. “I knew it! Thus is the vile lie exposed!” A crowd of their classmates started to gather around them. The owner of the produce store they were gathered in front of sighed and put his head in his hands.

Ranko and Ranma blinked at each other. “‘Vile lie’?”

Kunou pointed his bokken at Ranma. “Surely, Saotome, you do not deny your part in propagating the foul rumor that you and this fair flower of womanhood—who is looking particularly lovely today, I might add—are one and the same? Now it is exposed for the baseless falsehood I have always known it to be!”

Many of the students were staring, and murmurs started to run through the crowd. “But… but… I’ve seen him change!” “D’ya think it was special effects or somethin’?” “Baka! Special effects are only on TV and in the movies!” “Geez, maybe we can date her after all…” Ranma rolled his eyes at this last.

Kunou took a step forward, striking a threatening pose with his bokken. “Now, fair maiden, I will free you from this evil sorceror’s grasp once and for all! He has had his way with you for the last time!”

Ranko gagged at the mental image, but it gave her an idea. She leaned towards Ranma and whispered, “Will you follow my lead? My Nabiki came up with a good idea, and I think it’ll work for you, too.”

Ranma shrugged. “Why not try it? Nothin’ else works with this moron.”

Ranko didn’t respond, but grabbed Ranma’s arm and glared at Kunou. “Senpai, how dare you say such disgusting things about my big brother! The very idea… that he would… with his own little sister…” She looked away, blushing deeply. Akane and Ranma’s jaws dropped.

A bewildered look came over Kunou’s face. His brow furrowed as his brain labored mightily to assimilate Ranko’s words. “Your… big… brother?…”

Ranko nodded. “We have the same parents. We were even born at the very same time.” She smiled. “He came into this world before I did, though.” Akane stifled a giggle.

Kunou—and all the other students, for that matter—seemed to be in shock. “T-twins?”

“Yes. Saotome Ranma and Saotome Ranko. And I don’t like the way you’ve been treating him!” She clutched Ranma’s arm a little tighter. “I’m very fond of Oniichan and you haven’t been very nice to him.”

Ranma and Akane looked at each other; Akane shrugged. Ranma turned to Kunou. “Yeah, and I don’t like the way you’re hittin’ on my little sister all the time. She’s already told ya to buzz off.”

Ranko smiled up at Ranma. “Thank you, Oniichan.”

Ranma smiled back. “Any time, kiddo.” Akane rolled her eyes.

Kunou’s mouth was opening and closing, but no sound emerged. Finally, he managed, “Indeed… now that I see you beside one another for the very first time… there is an undeniable resemblance…” He shook his head; sadly, this didn’t unjam any of the mental gears that had been rusted solid for many years now. “Beauteous Ranko, I… I must apologize for making such an… unseemly allegation. It should not have come from the lips of a gentleman such as I.” He glared at Ranma. “There is much that I cannot forgive your brother, but it seems that in one respect I have been mistaken.” He inclined his head the slightest amount. “I most regret the pain it has caused you, my fair flower.”

He regarded both Akane and Ranko. “I shall never abandon my efforts to bring true happiness to your lives through your association with my own august person, but I must meditate on what I have learned today. Ladies, Saotome, adieu.” He bowed stiffly, and walked off.

In an instant, Ranko and Ranma were surrounded by a crowd of Fuurinkan students. “Hey, Ranma, you were holdin’ out on us! And you told us she was your cursed form…” “Hey beautiful, you doin’ anythin’ tonight?” “So all that Jusenkyou stuff was just a load’a BS?” “But… but… but… but… I saw him change!”

The latter student grabbed the hose lying on the rack of vegetables at the front of the produce store, and turned it on Ranma, who shouted “Hey!”

The buzz of conversation died instantly as two redheaded girls now stood in the center of the crowd. Everyone stared silently, except for the student with the hose, who said, “I told you I saw him change!”

Finally, one of the students asked, “What’s goin’ on, Ranma? Why are there two of you? And… and which one is the real one?”

Akane forced her way through the crowd. She put her hand on Ranma’s shoulder. “This is our Ranma.” She put her other hand on Ranko’s shoulder. “This is Ranko. She’s another Ranma from a parallel world, except she was born a girl, and she doesn’t have a curse.” Ranko’s eyes spoke her gratitude to Akane for omitting the messy little details about her past. “They’re both ‘real.’ Ranko showed up the day before yesterday. She doesn’t know how she got here and we’re trying to figure out how to get her back home.”

All the students stared for a moment; then, the one who had asked the question said, “Oh, is that all? OK. I guess that makes more sense than Kunou bein’ right.” Several students nodded, and the crowd started to disperse. One more boy tried to ask Ranko for a date, and a few of the girls expressed their sympathies for her predicament, but soon the three of them were alone again, feeling slightly dazed.

Ranma shook her head. “Y’know, I ain’t sure what just happened, but it says somethin’ pretty sad about my life.” Ranko and Akane sighed in agreement.

Shampoo squinted at the napkin dispenser, and tsked. There was a spot of… something on it. She grumbled to herself. I’m an Amazon warrior, and I’m cleaning napkin dispensers. She went after it with her rag, and in short order it was spotless and shiny. She sighed, and proceeded to the next table.

The door chime rang, and she looked up. There was a redheaded girl standing in the doorway, who was just starting to open her mouth in greeting. Shampoo bounded over and attached herself in her usual airtight fashion, glad for the distraction. “Airen! Shampoo so happy to see you!” Shampoo smiled at her Airen, then blinked. She was looking extremely pale and uncomfortable, which was normal. She was also wearing a dress, a hair ornament, and had pierced ears. That definitely wasn’t normal. Well, the pierced ears, anyway. “Airen… go little bit overboard, no? Pierced ears is for keeps.” And… it felt like… yes… her Airen was wearing a bra, too. Hmmm. Shampoo wondered about her Airen sometimes.

The redhead struggled to find her voice. “Shampoo… could… could you please let go of me… now. Please.” Shampoo merely smiled and adhered to her Airen a little more… thoroughly. The redhead turned a sickly pale color.

There was the sound of a throat being cleared, and Shampoo looked up from her Airen… into the eyes of her Airen. She blinked. This one looked normal: pigtail, Chinese clothes. No pierced ears. She noted that Violent Girl was also present, and looked dangerously angry. Too bad.

The Airen she was glomping said faintly, “Please… let… go… of… me.” She looked like she was turning slightly green.

Shampoo shrugged and released her; she sagged against the wall in relief. Shampoo looked back and forth between the two redheads, and smiled. “If two Airens, Shampoo get one?” The redhead in Chinese clothes sighed, and the one in a dress started turning green again.

Cologne, who had been watching all this in silence, smiled and shook her head. And to think I was considering going home. She cleared her throat. “Well, this certainly looks interesting, Son-in-law.” She looked back and forth between the two redheads. “Errr… and which one of you would that be?” Ranma sheepishly raised her hand. Thank goodness for that, thought Cologne. “I assume this situation has something to do with your visit?”

The other Ranma nodded. “Yes, Great-Grandmother. I need your help.”

Cologne was shocked, which was quite an accomplishment considering her years. “What did you call me?”

Shampoo clapped her hands together in delight. “Shampoo knew she get one!”

The redhead in a dress glared. “You are not ‘getting’ me! I’m a girl, for goodness’ sake!” She turned to Cologne as Shampoo glared right back at her. “I called you ‘Great-Grandmother,’ because that’s what I call you… back home.”

Cologne nodded slowly. “I see—I think.” She motioned towards a table. “Perhaps we should all sit down. I believe this may take a while.”

A half hour later, Cologne was nodding again, while Shampoo stared at Ranko, in shock from all she had heard. “Fascinating. It’s a rare opportunity indeed to have a chance to contact a parallel world, to see how a difference like this changes some things—and doesn’t change others.” She smiled. “I’m glad I had a chance to meet you, my dear. Please tell my counterpart in your world what you saw here—I know she will be equally fascinated.” And you’ve helped me to understand Son-in-law’s feelings just a little better, as well. She glanced over at Ranma, who had availed himself of some hot water from the kitchen while Ranko told her tale.

Ranko brightened. “Does that mean you know how to send me home, Great-Grandmother?”

Cologne sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry, child. It takes powerful magic to effect what has happened here. The Nanban mirror could do it, but it is destroyed. There are other artifacts of similar power, but they are all equally dangerous, and none of them are in my posession.”

The redheaded girl sagged miserably. “How am I ever going to get home?”

Cologne leaned forward sympathetically. “Ranko, some agent brought you here. Someone, or… something. It couldn’t have happened by accident; the magic required is too powerful. At some point, that agent will show its hand. When that happens, we’ll have more to work with.” She reached her hand across the table and placed it gently on Ranko’s. “I promise, I will do my best to get you home.” Ranko smiled back at her, and she felt a brief pang of jealousy for her counterpart in Ranko’s world. As an Amazon, she couldn’t help wondering occasionally what Ranma would have been like had he been born female. And here was that person, sitting in front of her.

Plus, Ranko had given her at least one good idea. Cologne had despaired of Shampoo ever achieving her full potential as a leader, but hadn’t considered sending her to school here in Japan. It might be just the thing…

She turned her attention back to the conversation. “Meanwhile, go and enjoy your birthday. Enjoy your visit here in our world, and make the most of it; only a handful of people in history have had similar opportunities. When you learn more of how you came here—and you will—then come see me again.”

Ranko nodded, and she and her companions rose. “Thank you, Great-Grandmother.” She smiled. “I knew I could count on you. Akane was right.”

Cologne raise an eyebrow. “Akane?”

Akane looked embarrassed. “It was… my idea, actually. To come here.” Cologne merely smiled.

Shampoo suddenly blurted out, “Shampoo no understand!”

Everyone looked at her, surprised. “Understand what, Shampoo?” asked Cologne.

“How you can give up martial arts? Give up warrior’s path? Airen not Airen without that!”

Ranko bit her lip and was trying to think how to reply when Ranma shocked them all by doing it for her. “I thought the same way, Shampoo, but her violin… I dunno… it’s kinda the same thing. I mean, it’s different, but I watched her play, and the stuff she does is still the same stuff I like about the Art. I think one’a the things I like about the Art is… it ain’t just fightin’. It is an art—to me, anyway. ’Sides, she uses all sortsa stuff from the Art to play.” He grinned. “Includin’ stuff you guys taught her.”

Ranko nodded. “That’s all true, but my violin also lets me express myself—my feelings—in a way I just can’t through the Art. I use all of me when I play the violin. After… after not really being myself for so many years, that’s very important to me. And as I became more myself, and I understood my own heart better, I discovered that I just couldn’t enjoy fighting any more.” She smiled sadly. “I guess it was a double-edged sword.”

Shampoo shook her head, still confused. “How can give up being warrior for stupid music?” Ranko glared.

Ranma blushed, and stammered, “Uhhhh… Shampoo, I ain’t gonna give up the Art for anythin’, but… but I like music, too. I always have. It ain’t stupid. After seein’ her play, I… I’d kinda like to try it. Just for fun.”

The three girls’ jaws dropped. Ranko asked, “Do you really mean it?” Ranma nodded, cheeks still pink with embarrassment.

Cologne watched, rapt. So different, and yet so alike. Seeing how the same basic traits—the vibrant pigments of Ranma’s personality—manifested on the subtly different canvases of male and female was utterly fascinating. Just a little more emotional, a little more sensitive and caring—and a warrior becomes a violinist. Amazing.

She spoke up. “Shampoo, always remember that the warrior exists to protect the other elements of the human spirit. A true warrior should spend some time appreciating those, to understand what she is fighting for. There have been many great warriors throughout the ages who have been great artists as well. Some of them lived right here in Japan.” Shampoo looked a little shell-shocked; Ranma looked thoughtful.

Ranko faced Cologne. “Great-Grandmother, thank you again.” The matriarch nodded, and the three of them turned to leave.

Shampoo rose hastily from her chair. “Airen come see Shampoo again soon? Take Shampoo on date, yes?” Akane started to seethe, but Ranko put a hand on her arm, and she seemed to calm down.

Ranma blushed and stammered, “Uh… we gotta go now… see ya!” He made a hasty exit, followed by the two girls. Shampoo’s face fell.

Cologne sighed. She had known for months that Shampoo had a snowball’s chance in hell of winning Ranma for herself. Her behavior at the failed wedding had merely been the last straw. Cologne knew Ranma and Akane loved each other—she had been a woman for all of her very long life, after all. Hearing Ranko’s description of her own relationship with Akane in her world, and watching Akane and Ranko together here for even just a short while, had cemented that certainty in Cologne’s mind. Ranko was a fascinating lens through which to view Ranma’s personality, and Ranma and Akane’s relationship.

However, one of the most important attributes of a leader was judgment, including knowing which battles were worth fighting. Cologne had kept her views to herself, and was still waiting for her great-granddaughter to reach her own conclusions on the matter. She continued to be disappointed. Yes, school seemed like a good idea indeed.

“Akane?”

Akane blinked and turned away from her contemplation of the koi pond. She’d been lost in reflection on the interesting exchange that had taken place at the Nekohanten. “Yes, Oneechan?”

Kasumi smiled. “Lunch is nearly ready. Would you go and call Ranma and Ranko for me? I haven’t seen them recently.”

Akane nodded. “I will in a minute, Oneechan.” Kasumi smiled again, and turned back to the kitchen.

Akane turned back to the koi pond, and resumed her ruminations. Once again, she mulled over Ranma’s admission of interest in the violin, and his defense of Ranko’s choices in life. Ranma would certainly leap to protect someone if they were in physical danger, but she’d been pleasantly surprised to see him using words for a change. And Ranma, interested in music? She supposed it made sense in hindsight, given Ranko’s passion for it, but she never would have suspected.

Could it be that Ranma was more sensitive, more thoughtful, than she gave him credit for? She sighed and wished for the thousandth time that he wasn’t such a jerk sometimes. It made it rather more difficult to appreciate his good qualities. Then again, considering how he’d been raised and by whom, maybe he hadn’t turned out so badly…

She shook herself, rose, and set about looking for her fiancé and her… her… Akane didn’t quite know how to complete the thought.

She looked upstairs in the bedrooms, but they weren’t there. She cast about the first floor, but found no sign of them; she even looked in the bath, chiding herself a little for considering the idea. She was passing an open window when she heard a raucous screech float in from the dojo. That had sounded like Ranko’s violin, but Ranko wouldn’t play it that badly, would she?

Suddenly she gasped in realization, and headed out the door and down the connecting walkway to the other building. As she drew closer, she heard voices. Or more precisely, the same voice twice. It was like listening to someone talking to herself, and it was more than a little eerie.

“…less pressure. You need a delicate touch. You use the speed of the Chestnut Fist, but you need fine control, like picking up a single grain of rice with chopsticks. And be gentle; that violin is 150 years old!”

“Alright, gotcha. Lemme try it again.”

A single, beautiful note emanated from the dojo, but mutated into something thin and rather scraggly at the end.

“Much better! You weren’t pressing hard enough at the end. Try for more even pressure.”

“OK. I think I understand.”

This time, the note repeated, ending crisply.

“That was great! You got it!”

“Hey, I did!” There was the sound of two palms slapping.

Akane slid the door open. Two identical redheads turned and blinked at her. One was wearing a white sundress; the other was wearing Chinese clothes, and holding a violin and bow. Akane’s jaw dropped. Ranma blushed and looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

She looked vulnerable, and Akane would normally have taken the opportunity to puncture her arrogance a little, but for some reason, the thought didn’t even occur to her. Instead, a smile slowly spread over her face. “Is someone taking violin lessons?” Ranko grinned.

Ranma realized there was no point in denying it, and her blush deepened. “Yeah. I… I wanted to try it out.”

“And…?”

Ranma smiled uncertainly. “It’s kinda… fun. So far.”

Akane’s smile broadened. “I’m glad. I don’t know what your father, Mr. ‘nothing but martial arts,’ will think, but… I don’t care, either.” She winked, and they all laughed. Ranma felt strangely relieved, as if she had expected something bad to happen, but it hadn’t.

Akane suddenly realized something and blinked. “Why are you doing it as a girl?”

Ranma blushed again. “I tried it as a guy to start with, and I wasn’t gettin’ anywhere. Bein’ this way made it easier to copy what Ranko was showin’ me.” She held up her petite hands. “And it’s easier with these tiny little things. I finally found somethin’ they were good for.” She laughed. “I figure after I get the hang of it this way I can probably do it as a guy, too.”

Akane nodded thoughtfully. “So, are you getting the hang of it?”

Ranma looked embarrassed, and hesitated a long moment before replying. “Maybe not. It took me a couple tries to even hit a note right.”

Akane stared in wonder; usually, Ranma never said a word about his prowess at anything except to brag. If he wasn’t good at something—like school—he tended to dismiss it as useless. For him to admit weakness of any kind was nearly unheard of. What was going on here?

Ranko smiled ker Kasumi smile again. “When I picked up a violin for the first time, it took me a couple of tries, too.” Ranma looked relieved, and nodded. “That’s when my teacher told me it took most students weeks to hit a clear note.” Ranma’s mouth hung open, and Ranko put a hand on her shoulder. “It looks like you have the same talent for this that I do.”

Akane was in shock all over again; unbidden, an image of Ranma playing the violin as expertly as Ranko flashed through her mind. “I… I guess that makes sense.” She glanced at Ranma, who looked thunderstruck, and gently teased, “So, are you going to give up martial arts and become a violinist, too?”

Ranma shook her head vehemently. “No way! But…” She fell silent for a few moments, then spoke again. “I’ve been thinkin’ about what the old ghoul said this mornin’ about bein’ a true warrior. When I used to tell Pop I liked music, he’d just whack me on the head and tell me to not think about anythin’ but the Art.” She paused again, and her expression grew thoughtful. “I ain’t sure what I wanna do about this yet, but… I think I wanna keep tryin’ it some more.”

Akane nodded slowly, amazed. Ranma, not just interested in music, but seriously considering learning an instrument? The idea made her feel… proud, oddly enough. She shook herself. “I almost forgot why I came looking for you guys. Kasumi says lunch is nearly ready.”

Ranma nodded, and handed the violin and bow back to Ranko, who set about putting them away. She gazed earnestly at her twin. “Maybe… after lunch…?”

Ranko smiled. “Sure, though I think the party guests will be coming soon. Maybe I can teach you a scale first, though. I guess I’ll have to do my own practicing tonight.”

Akane laughed. “It sounds like you guys are going to be fighting over that violin pretty soon!”

Both redheads chuckled, and Ranko playfully clutched the violin case to her bosom. “No way! This one’s mine. Get your own!”

They all laughed, and turned to leave. Akane watched thoughtfully as the two twins headed down the walkway in front of her. Ranko had given her an idea…

More than that, though, something about what had just transpired in the dojo—and earlier at the Nekohanten—had opened her eyes. When Ranko had first arrived, Akane had been struck over and over again by her similarity to Ranma. She had been astonished to see so much of Ranma in Ranko. It had been frightening.

But today, for the first time, she was starting to notice the converse as well. She wasn’t sure that he was actually changing; maybe he was just opening up to a new opportunity. Maybe she had just been blind to it before. Regardless of why, she was starting to see Ranko in Ranma.

And instead of fear, she felt hope.

As lunch ended, Ranko helped clear the dishes, following her mother, Kasumi, and Akane into the kitchen. When Kasumi and Nodoka saw what she was doing, they tsked their disapproval, and Nodoka summarily relieved her of the stack she had been carrying. “We’ll have none of that, Dear. It’s your birthday.”

Ranko shook her head. “I don’t mind.”

Akane added, “It’s just as well you came in; I needed to talk to you. Ranko, I have a last-minute birthday idea for Ranma, but I need your help.”

Ranko raised an eyebrow. “Of course, Sis. What is it?”

“How much is a violin? Not a professional one like you have, just a simple model for a beginner?”

Kasumi and Nodoka stopped what they were doing. “A violin, for my son? Why, Akane-chan?”

Akane smiled. “It turns out he’s interested in music, too. After he saw Ranko play, he wanted to try it himself. Ranko gave him a little lesson before lunch, and he said he liked it and wanted to continue with it. Ranko said he has the same talent for it she does.” Kasumi and Nodoka’s eyes went to Ranko, who nodded in confirmation.

Nodoka frowned. “He’s to inherit the dojo, and carry on the Saotome School of martial arts.” She was too preoccupied to notice Ranko’s glare.

Akane blushed. “I know, Auntie, and he says he wants to. He doesn’t want to be a violinist. The violin is just something he wants to try for its own sake.”

Nodoka was still frowning. “Well… as long as it doesn’t distract him from his obligations…”

Akane nodded vigorously. “When we visited the Nekohanten today, Cologne said that a true warrior has to appreciate the other elements of the human spirit, to know why he fights.”

Nodoka brightened. “Yes, that’s true. It seems appropriate, then.”

Akane turned back to Ranko, and blinked; the redhead looked ready to explode, and was making a visible effort to control her temper. My God… that must be what I look like when I’m getting ready to lose it… She shivered. “Ranko?”

The shorter girl closed her eyes for a long moment. When she opened them, she seemed to be in control. “Yes?”

“Ummm… about a violin?”

Ranko nodded. “I’m afraid a halfway decent one costs twice what this dress did, Sis.” Akane’s face fell. “But don’t give up. You can lease one for about 4000 yen a month. Eventually you wind up owning it. If he’s not sure whether he wants to pursue it or not, that’s actually probably better. If he does decide to stay with it, he can always buy it outright at any point. I know a music store on the main shopping street that does that; it’s where I get some of my sheet music.” She frowned. “Assuming it exists here.”

Kasumi piped up. “I think I know which one you mean, Ranko-chan. I pass it often. Next to the bookstore, right?”

The redhead nodded. “He’ll need a sensei, too, but I can do that while I’m here.” She walked over to the phonebook and flipped through it; her face lit up as she found what she was looking for. “Here it is: Kobayakawa. I recognize the address and number.” She turned to the other women. “Kobayakawa Yuriko. She was my sensei when I was just starting out. Assuming she also teaches music in this world, she’s a wonderful sensei. She gives private lessons—or at least, my version of her does.”

Akane looked hesitant for a moment. “Ranko? Would you be willing to… to go pick out a violin? By yourself? I’m afraid if Ranma sees me going with you, he’ll figure out I’m up to something. I really want this to be a surprise. I’ll give you the money.”

Ranko smiled and nodded. “Sure, Sis. I was going to teach him scales after lunch, but I can make some excuse.”

Kasumi held out one of her canvas shopping bags. “We’ll say I needed someone to run to the store for something, and you volunteered. You can hide the violin in this when you come home.” Ranko nodded and took the bag.

Akane was beaming. “This is great! He’ll be so happy!” Ranko’s mood couldn’t help brightening at this, and her residual anger faded away.

Akane ran off to fetch her purse, and soon Ranko was putting her white heels back on in the genkan, getting ready to leave. Ranma came up behind Akane and asked, “Where’re you goin’? I thought we were gonna do scales after lunch.”

“I’m just running off to the market to get something for Kasumi. I should be back in forty-five minutes or so. We’ll still have time.”

“Oh.” Ranma nodded, then hesitated for a moment. “That sounds like a lotta groceries. You want me to come with ya, and help carry stuff?”

Ranko panicked for a moment. “Ummm… no, no that’s OK. It really won’t be that much.”

“Then why’re you gonna take so long?” Ranko froze up.

Akane thought fast. “I asked her to pick up some pantyhose for me at the lingerie shop, too.”

Ranma blanched. “Uhhh, OK. I… I’ll see you later, then.” He disappeared rapidly down the hall.

Ranko blew out her breath and relaxed. “Sis?”

“What?”

“You don’t have to worry. I don’t think he’s a girl.” Both of them burst into giggles.

Ranko smiled as a familiar bell jingled, announcing her arrival. She closed the door behind her, and looked around the shop. It was a bit old and dilapidated, having more the air of a curio shop than anything else. Wooden and metal cabinets were everywhere, and racks displayed sheet music in no discernible order. Artwork of musical instruments and musicians decorated the walls.

Companionable chaos reigned. The place looked like a disaster area, but she’d made many a find here. Besides, coming here was just plain fun.

She looked around; there were several other customers in the shop, browsing about. She glanced over to the counter, and found a familiar face surrounded by a shock of graying hair. She smiled a bittersweet smile; she and the proprietor were good friends, but it was a sure bet he wouldn’t have any idea who she was. She walked slowly over.

“Nishi-san?”

Nishi Seiya looked up from the pile of disorganized sheet music he was attempting to sort, to find a rather stunning young woman with red hair looking up at him with an inquiring gaze. “Yes, young lady? What can I do for you?” She seemed to know his name, but then again it was on the sign out front.

The redhead sagged slightly, as if she were somehow disappointed in his response. “I’m interested in leasing a violin. Do you have time now?”

Nishi grinned. “I can always make time for a lovely young lady like yourself.” She blushed and smiled. “Do you play?”

“Yes, but it’s not for me. It’s a surprise gift for someone who’s interested in learning.”

Nishi smiled broadly. “What a thoughtful idea! Still, if it’s for someone else, it would really be best to bring them in and let them try the instruments in person.”

Ranko bit her lip. “Ummm… it’s for my twin sister. I can try it out for him… uhhh, her.” Ranko winced slightly.

Nishi looked slightly askance at her. “If you say so…” He led her over to a locked cabinet. “Would you like a three-quarters size? You’re a bit on the petite side.”

“No, I’d like a full size, thank you.”

He nodded and unlocked the cabinet. “I have two or three instruments suitable for a beginner. Why don’t you have a look? I’ll go fetch a bow and be right back.” He moved off.

Ranko turned over and examined the instruments. Compared to her own, they seemed like toys. Experimentally, she put them to her chin and plucked the strings, pizzicato. One of them stood out a little; it reminded her of her first violin.

Nishi returned with a bow. “You certainly know how to hold the instrument, my dear. How long have you been studying?”

“About six months.”

Nishi smiled. “It’s always wonderful to see young people interested in taking up an instrument. Sometimes I think the only people left who are interested in classical music are broken-down old fossils like me.” He handed the bow to Ranko as they both laughed.

Ranko spent a minute tuning the violin, plucking the strings. Satisfied, she drew a few notes with the bow. “Hmmm. I don’t know…” Without further ado, she launched into the first few bars of the Bach Partita in E Major. She stopped, her brow furrowed. “I’m not sure about this one…”

There was no response. She looked up to find Nishi staring at her, not to mention all the other customers. “Nishi-san?”

Nishi swallowed. “You know, you might give an old man some warning. Did you say you’d been studying for six months? Not six years?”

She blushed. “Yes, it’s been six months.” Nishi shook his head, and a murmur ran through the shop.

“Did you say this violin was for your twin sister?” Ranko nodded. “Give me that… thing.” He held out his hand in a peremptory fashion. Ranko meekly handed the violin over, and Nishi stuffed it back in the cabinet, locking it again. “Come with me.”

He led her to another cabinet, and unlocked it. “Try one of these.”

Ranko looked over the price tags and blanched. “Nishi-san… I’m not sure we can afford these. I was really hoping for something in the 4000 yen per month range…”

He shook his head. “These are 4000 yen per month for someone who can play like you… or for her twin sister.” He smiled. “But I demand an additional payment as well.”

Ranko regarded him warily. “What’s that?”

“After you select a violin, you must finish the whole Partita. I’ll not have cheeky young ladies tormenting my customers in this way.” There were nods and a “Hear, hear!”

Ranko blushed. “All right… it’s the least I can do if you’re going to be so generous.” She turned her attention back to the violins in the cabinet, picking them up and examining them carefully.

“If I might ask, what instrument do you use, Miss…?”

“Saotome Ranko, Nishi-san. I play a Lott ‘del Gesù.’” She heard a whistle, and added hastily, “It’s on loan, and I won’t be able to pay for it for many years.”

Nishi nodded, as if he’d expected no less. “Then, perhaps… this?” He lifted an instrument from the case.

Ranko hefted the instrument; it had a nice feel, not unlike her own. She turned it over. “Hmmm…” She lifted it to her chin and plucked a few strings, then smiled. She started to tune it up. Nishi smiled himself.

Ranko lifted the bow and started to play, losing herself almost immediately in the Bach Partita. It wasn’t even close to her own instrument, but it was quite nice; better than her first.

She blinked when she realized she had come to the end of the Partita; had it really been twenty minutes? It must have been, for everyone in the shop broke into enthusiastic and prolonged applause.

When it had died down, Nishi said, “Well now, I’d say you’ve chosen your instrument, haven’t you?” Ranko smiled and nodded. “Why don’t we take care of the bureaucracy?” She giggled and followed him over to the counter.

Nishi pulled a form out. “What is your sister’s name?”

“Saotome Ranma.” Ranko bit her lip as she realized that she’d just condemned Ranma to having to come here as a girl to make the monthly payments. Well, if he can wear a bunny suit in public, he can certainly handle this.

“An unusual name for a girl. I take it she’s as lovely as you?” He grinned roguishly.

“Ummm, she is my identical twin, but… she’s quite a tomboy, actually.”

“Ahhh,” said Nishi, as if all were now clear. He continued on to ask Ranko her address, phone number, and the other pertinent details. Ranko hoped that the phone number at the Tendous was the same in this world; she hadn’t thought to check that.

When they were done, and after Ranko had paid the first installment, Nishi got out a case, and placed the violin and bow inside. Ranko lifted the canvas bag to the counter, and the violin was placed gently inside.

Nishi smiled at her again. “I hope we will get a chance to see you here again soon, Saotome-san?”

Ranko wilted. “Nishi-san, I’m so sorry… I love this place, but I live far, far away from here. I’m just visiting my sister.” Nishi sighed in disappointment. “But… there’s a shop back home that’s very similar. I think I will have to go visit as soon as I get home; I’m great friends with the proprietor.” She smiled. “He’s a lot like you.”

“Lucky devil,” muttered Nishi; they both laughed. “Well, I’ll have to content myself with your twin sister. I can only hope she’ll be at the same level in six months. It’s been a pleasure, Saotome-san. Best of luck with your career.” She hadn’t said she was planning to play professionally, but then again she hadn’t really needed to.

“Thank you so much for everything, Nishi-san.” Ranko bowed low, then turned to go. She opened the door to the accompaniment of the little bell, then turned just outside the doorway to once again take in the whole place. She waved. “Goodbye, Nishi-san!”

He nodded gravely. “Goodbye.” He sighed; somehow, he knew he’d never see her again.

Ranko let the door close, turned, and promptly ran into someone who had been walking past the shop. She somehow managed to hold onto the canvas bag holding the violin.

She bowed, mortified. “I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!”

A familiar voice replied, and Ranko’s heart stopped. “No harm done, Miss. Maybe you can help me; is this Tokyo? I’m looking for the Tendou Dojo.”

Chapter Text

Hibiki Ryouga regarded the rather attractive redhead who had run into him; she was taking an awfully long time to rise from her bow. “Miss? Are you all right?”

The girl took a deep, shuddering breath, as if she’d been holding it, and finally straightened up. Ryouga blinked; she looked as if she were struggling to hold back tears. She appeared so overwhelmed that it took a few seconds for him to notice who it was. “R-ranma?!” His face hardened and he made a disgusted noise. “Showing your true colors again, I see. How can you do this to Akane? Don’t you know how she feels about it? You’re disgusting!”

Ranma flinched as if she’d been slapped. “Ryouga… Ryouga, I’m not…”

“I give up on Akane, and this is how you behave, now that you don’t have a rival? You ought to be ashamed of yourself. I can’t imagine why Akane would want to be engaged to a pervert like you.”

Ranma turned ashen. “R-ryouga…”

“If I wasn’t seeing Akari right now, I’d show Akane what a real man is like!”

The next line in the script was for Ranma to start blustering about her manhood. She didn’t follow the script. “A… Akari? W-who is Akari, Ryouga?” She looked to be terrified of something.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. “What do you mean? You know Akari! You practically pushed us together!”

He stared; Ranma was literally trembling. “Is she… is she your… your girlfriend?”

Ryouga couldn’t make any sense of what Ranma was saying. “Of course she is!” he growled. “Have you gone off the deep end or…” he trailed off; tears were running freely down Ranma’s cheeks, her chin was quivering, and she had a wild look in her eyes. It suddenly penetrated his anger that Ranma looked like she was about to break down and cry, and sure enough, she did. She buried her face in her hands and keened, the sound of someone who’d had her heart ripped in two. His heart lurched; it would have to have been made of stone not to. He knew Ranma was in pain; no one was a good enough actor to cry like this.

She stood there, wailing, while Ryouga boggled, not having the faintest idea what was going on, or what to do. Why was she calling him by his name instead of “P-chan” or something similar? Why hadn’t she responded with her usual taunts? Why was she crying like some lovesick girl instead?

A couple of middle-aged women stopped, and glared daggers at Ryouga. One of them looked him up and down, and said “You ought to be ashamed of yourself. What did you do to your girlfriend to make her cry like that?”

He grit his teeth. “She is not my girlfriend! I wouldn’t date her if she was the last… woman on Earth!” He started when Ranma’s wails increased in volume.

The two women moved off, muttering. “Boys these days… animals…”

Other passersby were glaring at him, too, and he awkwardly put a hand on Ranma’s shoulder. “Hey quit it, will you? People are staring at us!”

Ranma tensed up at the contact, and kept crying.

Ryouga rolled his eyes. “Will you stop it? What the hell’s gotten into you?!”

Ranma looked up at him, and Ryouga saw a familiar look in her eyes, a look he had thought he would never see again. A look he never, ever wanted to see again. The look she’d had in her eyes after he’d snared her with the koi fishing rod. Oh, Kami-sama… maybe she wasn’t completely cured.

Suddenly, it all made sense; she’d become a girl the last time, just to please him. An intense wave of guilt rose up and tried to overwhelm his intrinsic perception that everything that happened was Ranma’s fault, and partly succeeded. He swallowed.

Her dress was cut low enough that he could see the spot where the mark had been, and it was still gone. If she was acting this way without it, was it permanent now? It did seem less intense than before; during the earlier episode, if he’d told Ranma to stop crying she would have complied instantly, just to please him. Still, if he hadn’t used the rod on Ranma, she wouldn’t be like this.

Ryouga stared, mesmerized, at the redhead who was looking up at him, sniffling and hiccuping and with tears running down her cheeks. If he hadn’t known it was Ranma, he would never have imagined this wasn’t a real girl, and seeing a girl cry this way was painful. Hell, it was painful even though he did know it was Ranma. Especially since it was his fault.

He groped desperately for something to say. “Look, why… why don’t we just take you home, OK?” She nodded, still crying, and turned.

Ryouga cleared his throat. “Ummm… isn’t it this way?” He pointed.

She looked back at him, and her face screwed up in pain, her tears flowing more freely. She wordlessly shook her head. “Uhhh… OK.” He moved to walk beside her.

She cried for the entire ten minute walk to the Tendou home. Ryouga noticed that the looks of the passersby had changed from anger to compassion, but didn’t realize it was because the same change had taken place on his own face.

He watched Ranma the whole way. Her body language—her entire demeanor—was female. He cringed. The last time, she’d only shown hints of feminine behavior, and then only after he’d told her that he didn’t want to be mooned over by another guy. She was pretty far gone this time. Waves of guilt started to lap at his heart. Had the rod slowly turned Ranma into a girl, just to make him happy? He shivered.

They turned into the Tendou compound’s front gate, and Ryouga suddenly realized that Akane was not going to be at all happy with him for doing this to Ranma. It was too late to run off now, though. He sighed.

Ranma slid the door open, and called out, “T… t… tadaimaaaa…” and trailed off into sniffling and hiccuping again.

Akane came running down the hallway. “Ranko, are you all right? What on Earth happened to…” She spotted Ryouga and trailed off. “Oh no…”

Ryouga blinked. Ranko?

Ranma suddenly surged up from the genkan, not even noticing she was still in her shoes, and threw herself into Akane’s embrace. She buried her face in Akane’s shoulder, and started to wail again. Akane hugged her gently, rubbing her back, and looking at Ryouga not in anger, but with worry etched deep on her face.

Ryouga heard another set of footsteps come pounding down the hallway, and another voice. A very familiar voice. “Hey, did somethin’ happen to…” Ranma came into view, and stopped. Nodoka and Kasumi arrived a few steps behind him.

Ryouga looked wildly between the redhead who was crying into Akane’s shoulder and Ranma, who stepped forward, balling his fists. “What the hell did you do to her?”

Ryouga wasn’t capable of speech at the moment. “R… R… R…” was all he could manage.

“If you hurt her I’m gonna make bacon outta you, pig-boy!” His stance grew more threatening.

“No!” shouted the redheaded girl. She pulled away from Akane. “Don’t you dare hurt him! I won’t let you!” She started to cry again, and returned to Akane’s arms.

Ranma relaxed his stance, confused. “What? Why not?” Akane bit her lip.

Ryouga finally managed to blurt out, “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?!” He looked back and forth. “Why are there two of you?”

Akane looked around; Ranma and Ranko were too upset to explain properly. “Ryouga, this is Ranko. She’s another Ranma from a parallel world, except she’s a girl, a real girl. She was born a girl.”

Ryouga tried to ask an intelligent question, but what came out was “What… how… why…”

“We don’t know how or why she came here. We’re still trying to figure out how to get her home.”

Ryouga felt his brain overloading as it tried to grasp this bizarre concept. So, if she was a real girl, that explained the dress and behavior. But if she was from another world, why had she been looking at him like that? Come to think of it, how had she even known who he was?

Ranma still looked angry. “What happened?”

Ryouga managed to find his voice. “I met her by accident, and I… I thought she was you. I said… I said some of the things I… I usually say to you.” He blushed. “But she didn’t really start to cry until I mentioned Akari.” As if to illustrate the point, Ranko’s crying grew louder. Kasumi gasped and looked to Nodoka, who nodded.

Ranma’s anger faded into confusion. “Why would she care about Akari? I mean, she’s just your…” Ranma trailed off. Akane closed her eyes and waited.

You could almost hear the gears grinding. Ranma was a bit clueless when it came to matters of the heart, but he wasn’t deaf, dumb, and blind. Wait a minute… she hears about Akari, and she starts cryin’. She says she won’t let me hurt P-chan here. Her fiancé back home is a martial artist, and she didn’t wanna tell me who he is. He swallowed heavily. Oh, Kami-sama… “I… I don’t feel so good.”

Akane sighed. He was actually taking it better than she’d expected. Ranko had stopped crying, and turned around to watch, her eyes wide. Akane kept a comforting arm around the shorter girl’s shoulders.

Ryouga looked around. “What? Why?”

Ranma looked him in the eye, and shivered involuntarily. His skin was crawling. “She’s got a boyfriend back home in her world. They’re plannin’ on gettin’…” he swallowed again, “married.”

Ryouga blinked. “So? That’s nice, I guess.” He supposed he could understand why Ranma was uneasy about the idea, given some of the situations his curse had landed him in. He’d almost wound up a bride himself on several occasions.

Akane glanced over at Ranma; he looked too queasy to elaborate. “Ryouga, Ranko’s world is almost identical to ours, except that she and her cousin Hiromi are girls instead of boys.”

Ranma felt even more queasy. Hiromi?

Akane continued, “We haven’t been able to find any other differences. We all exist there: my family, Ranma’s parents, Ukyou, the Amazons, Sayuri and Yuka, the Kunous, everyone. Including… you.”

Ryouga boggled. “So there’s another me in this parallel world?” Akane nodded. He couldn’t help smiling; in this other world, there was no Ranma for Akane to be engaged to! Maybe he had won her heart there, and never met Akari. Ranko certainly wouldn’t have been a rival; she was a girl herself, after all! A girl… and she… she had a… boyfriend… and…

Insight hit him between the eyes like a two by four, and he went white as a sheet. His eyes found Akane’s, and she nodded. His eyes moved on to the redhead in Akane’s embrace. She bit her lip, and nodded too. And she had that look in her eyes again. His eyes moved on to Ranma; he was still looking queasy.

Ryouga swallowed. “I… I don’t feel so good either.”

Ryouga didn’t think that making your fiancée cry on her birthday was actually classified as a war crime, but he was sure he couldn’t feel any lower if it was.

Granted, technically, she wasn’t his fiancée. But it didn’t matter; to her, she was. And he’d certainly had his heart broken enough times to know what it felt like.

He’d wanted to blame everything on her, because she was Ranma, after all. But she was also a girl, and that played havoc with Ryouga’s mental categorizations. What’s more, she’d been in pain, genuine pain. He knew what that felt like, too. Compassion and his dislike of Ranma had warred, and compassion had won. And so he felt guilty instead.

She’d even apologized. Ranma had apologized to him. Even if it was a female Ranma from another world, the very concept made his head hurt; Ranma was supposed to be a jerk.

She’d explained that even though she knew he was a different Ryouga from hers, the thought of him being another woman’s boyfriend had hurt terribly. She’d explained that they just loved each other too much; they were going to get married, start a family. She’d explained that in her heart, she felt they already were married. While she’d meant well, none of these were things he particularly wanted to hear.

Ranma himself obviously hadn’t wanted to hear them, either. Both of them were looking rather more uncomfortable at the end of Ranko’s apology than at the beginning, and for the same reason. The idea of being engaged to each other—and willingly—was about as attractive as being engaged to Kodachi. Maybe less attractive.

Which explained why the whole family was gathered around the dining table to listen to Ranko’s story, because the one question on everyone’s mind was, how in Kami-sama’s name could Ranma—any version—and Ryouga fall in love?

“You told me it started when you felt sorry for me, after attacking me on the beach in Ibaraki.” She pursed her lips and lowered her gaze to the table.

“Why did he… why did I attack you, if you were a girl? For that matter, how did we even meet? Ranma and I met in junior high, at an all-boy school.”

She blushed. “We met there, too. I… I was a boy when I met you.”

“Wait a minute… I thought Akane-san said you were born a girl?”

“I was. I was turned into a boy, sort of by accident, when I was a little girl. My father raised me as ‘Ranma’, and by the time I was eight or so I’d forgotten I was a girl. Being a boy still hurt, but I didn’t know why. It hurt a lot…” She paused, her eyes moist, and Ryouga found compassion winning his internal battle again.

“It wasn’t until my mother found me here that I found out who I really was, and I started to explore becoming a girl again. While I was doing that, I went to a cottage in Ibaraki with my mother, Akane, Ucchan, Sayuri, and Yuka. Just to get away from it all, but you managed to find me anyway.” She smiled.

“You attacked me, and I was losing badly because I hadn’t practiced martial arts much in weeks. Akane and Ucchan rescued me, and then I told you what was going on. You told me later that when you heard about my life, you felt that I’d suffered worse than you had, and you couldn’t hate me any more. It kind of wiped the slate clean between us.” She decided to ask this Ryouga about P-chan later. He’d better not still be doing that to Akane…

Ryouga fidgeted nervously; that was kind of the way he was feeling about her right now. “And then we fell in love?”

“Oh, no. It took a couple of months, and it was just you at first. You told me that it kind of grew slowly on you, and then all of a sudden, a couple of months later, you heard me play my violin, and it hit you like a ton of bricks. You confessed to me the next day.”

Ryouga decided to ask about the violin later. “And you said you loved me too?”

She giggled. “No. I was kind of doubtful about the whole thing. I mean, given our history and all. I wanted to be your friend—I’d wanted that for a long time, even when I was Ranma—but love? I wasn’t ready for that, especially with you.” Everyone was too busy watching Ranko to notice the slightly guilty look on Ranma’s face.

Ranko sighed. “But you loved me so much. I still remember what you told me: that you loved me more than you thought it was possible to love another person. It just floored me, the way you expressed your feelings and how vulnerable you were. I didn’t want to hurt you. So when you asked me to give it a try, just one teeny little date, I said yes.” The other women were all smiling.

“And…?” asked Akane, who was smiling the most of all of them.

“And he kind of grew on me, too. I didn’t really notice it as it happened, but we just got closer and closer. And I started to feel claustrophobic; I’d only just gotten out of all these engagements, and I felt hemmed in again. Then I met his parents, and they just adored me. His mother kept telling me how I was practically a member of the family and asked me to call her ‘Mother.’” She sighed.

“Sounds like Mom, all right.” Ryouga sighed himself.

“It was sweet of them, really, but it pushed all the wrong buttons. I freaked, big time. I told him I needed some space. We had a fight, and I was a mess for days. That’s when I realized that I loved him, too. We made up, and we haven’t looked back since. We’re not formally engaged, but… we might as well be.” Again, her heart ached, and she wondered why she’d been so obstinate about an engagement. She had to turn away from Ryouga; right now, looking at him was too painful.

Ranma was looking glassy-eyed. “How the hell could you fall in love with him?”

Ranko and Ryouga both glared at him. “I would have said the same thing when I was Ranma. But after he stopped being mad at me, we started to get along really well. I stopped teasing him and he stopped… doing things that annoyed me. I never saw it before because we fought so much, but he’s a really sweet, generous guy. He’s kind, gentle, and caring. When he fell in love with me he stopped being depressed all the time, and now he smiles a lot. He dotes on me. He even said he’d help take care of our children and the household chores so I can be a violinist. Not many guys would go that far for the girl they love.” Akane started glaring at Ranma, too, and he shrank a bit from their combined onslaught.

Ranko smiled. “I think he’s wonderful. I’m glad I fell in love with him.” Her gaze couldn’t help going to Ryouga, and that love was plainly visible in her startling blue eyes.

Something took Ryouga’s heart, put it in a blender, and turned it on set to “purée.” Wildly conflicting emotions of all different kinds mixed together into an unidentifiable mess, then exploded, splattering all over his insides.

He didn’t feel any better receiving Ranma’s confession of love than he had the first time, when she’d been under the influence of the koi fishing rod. This was still Ranma, after all. But this love was the real thing, not some magically-induced fever, and this Ranma was a real girl, not a cursed boy. Some part of his brain was trying to point out that a very beautiful woman was declaring her undying love for him, but he tried hard to ignore it.

Something of his feelings must have been visible in his eyes, because Ranko blushed and looked down. “I’m sorry. This must all be overwhelming to you. Here’s this strange female version of Ranma from another world, and she’s going on and on about how she’s going to marry you.” She sighed. “I know you’re not my Ryouga, but my heart doesn’t. And… and I miss him…” She blinked back sudden tears and shook herself. “There I go again. I’m sorry.”

Ryouga’s emotional blender got turned up a notch. “It’s… it’s OK, Ranko-san. I’m sorry I said those things to you when we ran into each other.” She nodded and smiled a little, and Ryouga smiled back. He tried to imagine how he could possibly love this girl the way she had said his other self did, and couldn’t.

She turned to Ranma. “I know it bothers you, too, but you don’t know him as well as I do.” She looked between the two of them. “You two could be friends if you wanted to, you know.” Ranma and Ryouga eyed each other with suspicion, and Ranko sighed.

She turned back to Ryouga and tried to smile. “I think I’ll be all right now. Can… can we be friends while I’m here? That would help.” He nodded slowly, and she brightened.

Her eyes fell on the canvas bag sitting next to Akane, then went to the clock. “Oops, I almost forgot. We have a little time left before the guests arrive, Ranma. Do you still want to try some scales?”

Ranma tried hard to push the whole Ryouga thing to the back of his mind, though he was pretty sure he was going to have nightmares about it. “Uh, sure… I guess. Just a sec, lemme go change.” He rose and headed into the kitchen.

Ranko rose as well. “I’ll go get my violin. I’ll be right back.”

Ryouga blinked. “What’s going on?”

Akane smiled. “After watching Ranko play the violin, Ranma decided he wanted to try it out, too. She’s teaching him.”

Ryouga boggled. Ranma, learning the violin? He shook his head. “What’s with Ranko and the violin? Is it a hobby?”

Akane shook her head. “No, she’s planning to be a violinist. She’s really good at it, and she’s already attending a top fine arts school in addition to Fuurinkan. She chose the violin over martial arts.” Ryouga’s jaw dropped.

Ranma returned from the kitchen, female, and Ryouga looked her up and down. “Why are you a girl?”

Ranma blushed slightly. “I wasn’t makin’ much progress in my guy form. It’s easier for me to pick up what she’s showin’ me this way.” She held up her hands. “Small hands help, too.” Ryouga saw a chance to needle Ranma about her manhood, but decided to let it pass. He just wasn’t in the mood right now.

Nodoka frowned slightly.

Ranko returned, carrying her violin case. Ryouga looked rapidly between the two of them; they really were… identical.

“Do you want to practice in the dojo again?”

“Yeah. Don’t wanna bug everyone with my screechin’.” Everyone laughed.

Ryouga blurted out, “Can I watch?”

Ranko smiled like the sun coming up, and Ryouga stared, mesmerized. “Sure! But no making fun of my first student, OK?” He nodded and rose, as did Akane.

As Ryouga followed the three of them out, careful to keep them in sight at all times, the thought passed through his mind that Ranko sure was cute when she smiled like that.

“No, that’s an E flat. You wanted an E there.”

“Gotcha. Lemme try it again.”

Ryouga watched and listened as Ranma once again launched into “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” This time, it was flawless.

“That was wonderful! It was nice and musical, too.” Ranko and Ranma both smiled broadly; it was clear they were enjoying themselves immensely.

He and Akane had watched this for the past half hour. Ranma had quickly mastered the scale, and Ranko had decided to try her twin on a simple composition. It had taken Ranma about ten minutes to pick it up by watching Ranko and imitating her. He could see why Ranma was doing this as a girl; it made it easier to mimic Ranko exactly.

Ranko had been fascinating to watch as well. She was so bright, open, and enthusiastic. She’d been a patient teacher throughout the whole exercise. Ryouga found it hard to believe that she was really Ranma, other than the obvious physical aspect; she seemed to have a sweet, caring disposition. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of arrogant jerk in her body. And her love of music shone forth luminously. He was starting to see how his other-world self could have fallen in love with her. Ranko seemed nothing like the Ranma Ryouga knew.

Except… seeing the two of them next to each other, taking turns at playing the same music, interacting with one another… it was apparent just how much they had in common. Ranma was clearly a guy, despite her current body, and Ranko was clearly a girl. Their behavior was different. But they reacted to things in such similar ways. The same love of music—and the same gift for it—was apparent.

Ryouga knew Ranma was a jerk… but… today, she seemed more relaxed and happy than Ryouga had ever remembered seeing her. She wasn’t being arrogant at all. She was freely admitting her mistakes and making self-deprecating jibes about her own ability. Her mouth seemed to be remarkably foot-free. Today, Ranma seemed different from the Ranma Ryouga knew. Why was that? Was she changing, or was she just showing a different part of herself, with Ranko’s help? Would she revert to her old ways after Ranko left?

Things were passing strange today. Ryouga wasn’t about to join a fan club, but he started to wonder if there was more to Ranma than he had thought.

Akane spoke up. “Guys, I hear voices coming from the house. I think the guests are starting to arrive.”

Ranko nodded. “I guess we’d better stop here.” Ranma reluctantly handed over the violin, and Ranko started to put it away. She smiled as she did; Akane’s birthday idea seemed likely to be a success.

Just as Ranko was closing the case, the door slid open, and Ukyou was standing there. She looked around and spotted Ranma. “Hey, Ranchan, who’s this ‘Ranko’ Kasumi was talking about? She’s not another fiancée… is… she…” She trailed off as Ranko stood up and turned to face her, and started looking back and forth between the two redheads, her open mouth making her look a little like a fish.

Ranma and Ranko said “Hi, Ucchan!” simultaneously. They blinked and looked at each other.

Ukyou took a half step towards them, still looking back and forth. “Ranchan?” she asked tentatively.

Both redheads said, “Yes?” It sounded eerily like an echo.

Ukyou groaned. “Which one of you is the real one?”

Ranma and Ranko looked at each other again. Ranma slowly raised her hand. “Well, we’re both real, but I guess I’m the one you know.”

Ukyou nodded slowly, and her gaze went to Ranko. “So what is she?”

Ranko flinched slightly, and Ranma frowned. “Ucchan, she’s me, too. She’s another me from a parallel world.”

Ukyou’s brow furrowed as she tried to assimilate this. A part of her mind reflected sadly that that was a whole lot easier than it ought to be. Even the White Queen would have trouble keeping up with Ranma; she’d only managed to believe six impossible things before breakfast. Amateur. “So if she’s another you, why is she dressed like a girl?”

“Maybe,” drawled Akane, “it’s because she is a girl. Her name is Ranko, and she was born female.” Akane felt guilty; she was starting to enjoy this process way too much. But it was so much fun to watch everyone’s eyes bulge…

Ukyou didn’t disappoint; she stared wide-eyed at Ranko, who grew uncomfortable. “Ucchan?…”

Ukyou found her voice. “You… you know me?” Ranko nodded. “So… so what kind of relationship do we have in your world?”

Ranko smiled. “You’re my closest friend, except for Akane.”

Ukyou felt a little hurt. She chided herself for being jealous; this Ranma was a girl, after all. She tried to put on a smile to take the sting out of her question. “Even though we’ve known each other longer?”

Ranko shook her head. “In my world, Akane and I were raised together from birth. Even though we were separated when we were four and a half, we never lost that.” Ukyou nodded in understanding. “She’s practically my sister.”

Ukyou sighed. Even with Ranma a girl, she’d lost to Akane. Again she kicked herself; she was being stupid to think this way. Ranchan did tend to bring out that side of her…

Ranko seemed to read her thoughts. “Ucchan… I… I love you, too, you know.” She blushed.

Ukyou felt the world swim around her. She’d longed to hear those words from Ranchan… too bad this one was a girl. Still… she’d take what she could get.

The room sank into an uncomfortable silence; Ukyou tried to think of something to lighten the mood. “Well, at least you didn’t have the whole fiancée mess our Ranchan had!” She grinned, but it faded as she noted the bright pink tinge on Ranko’s cheeks. “You’re… you’re kidding…”

Ranko shook her head, unable to make eye contact.

“But you’re a girl! What was your idiot father thinking… wait, scratch that. He was thinking about stealing my father’s yatai, that’s what he was thinking.” She sighed. “I can’t believe it! On top of everything else, he lied to my father about you being a boy, too!” Ranko turned an even brighter red, and Akane and Ranma looked uncomfortable as well.

Ukyou slowly took in all their expressions. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Ranko nodded, her eyes still on the floor, and spoke in a tiny voice. “Actually… I was born a girl, but…”

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you…”

Ryouga sang along, grinning, as Kasumi carried the cake in, candles glowing brightly. He was grinning—as were many others—because the look of breathless anticipation on Ranko’s face was priceless. She hadn’t had a birthday party in thirteen years, and the wide eyes and even wider smile were worthy of any five-year-old. Even Nabiki was smiling indulgently as she snapped pictures. Ranma looked a little embarrassed by the proceedings, but Ranko was lapping it up eagerly.

Kasumi set the cake down, and like the banner over their heads it said “Happy Birthday Ranma and Ranko!” Nodoka beamed at Ranma, her own son, and Ranko, her alternate-reality daughter. “Go ahead and blow them out together, dears.”

The other teens present—Akane, Ukyou, Yuka, Sayuri, Hiroshi, and Daisuke—counted together: “One, two, three!” and Ranma and Ranko blew together, easily extinguishing the eighteen candles on the cake. The girls cheered, and everyone applauded. Ranko looked around the room, her smile and the tears in her eyes conveying her feelings in a way that words couldn’t.

Her eyes found Ryouga’s, and her smile changed slightly; it became a special, private smile that was just for him. She probably didn’t even realize she was doing it, but all the same Ryouga’s heart lurched like an airplane making a difficult approach in bad weather. Her smile was the smile of a woman for her husband, and it spoke volumes; it made him feel like they were already married. He tried to calm the butterflies in his stomach.

The tableau was broken by Akane. “I hope you like the cake. I worked really hard on it.” Instantly, a hush fell over the room, and a lone crow could be heard cawing outside.

As Ranma—who’d forgotten the genesis of this particular birthday cake—struggled to find something to say that would not get him malleted, Ranko shocked everyone (except Kasumi) by saying, “I’m sure it’ll be delicious, Sis.”

Desperate hope lit Akane’s eyes. “R-really?” Ranko nodded confidently.

Sayuri wondered if Ranko’s Akane was a good cook. If so, the poor girl was in for a rude shock.

Kasumi beamed. “Why don’t you two go ahead and cut it?” She passed a large cake knife to Ranma. He placed it on the cake, and his eyes went to Ranko in invitation; he motioned with his head. She put her hand on top of his, and together, they pressed the knife down.

Nothing happened.

Ranma and Ranko eyed each other nervously, and pushed down harder. Still nothing. They put their backs into it, and were rewarded when the knife slowly started to move down through the cake, making a crumbling, crunching sound not unlike that of tearing cardboard. The cake seemed to have the consistency of toast that had been forgotten for an hour or two. They repeated the process, and shortly two slices of… cake were produced. They each took one.

Ranma screwed up his courage, and managed to chip off a bite. He and Ranko raised their forks to their mouths, and started to chew. There were loud crunching noises reminiscent of those given off when chewing ice. Akane looked distraught, and everyone watched, deathly silent, waiting for the inevitable conclusion of one of her cooking experiments: violence.

Except that Ranko said, “It’s pretty good, Sis.” Everyone stared at her; Ranma wondered if she’d gone insane. Was she eating the same cake he was? Maybe the cake had addled her brain, and he was next.

Ranko observed the color. “Chocolate?”

“Vanilla,” said Akane, blushing in embarrassment.

“Oh.” said Ranko. “Well, they’re easy to confuse sometimes.” She beamed. “Thank you for baking a cake for me and Ranma.”

Ranma, who had been wondering why Ranko was bothering with this charade, suddenly knew: Akane’s face lit up with one of the most luminous smiles that had ever graced her features. For a moment the only sound he heard was the beating of his own heart. She’s so beautiful when she smiles like that… I wish I could make her smile more often.

He looked back and forth between Akane and Ranko as they smiled at one another. It was clear from Akane’s raised eyebrow and affectionate smile that she knew that Ranko was lying through her teeth about the cake. And it was clear from Ranko’s “who, me?” grin that she knew that Akane knew that. But there was a truth behind the lie that transcended it: Ranko was not saying she liked the cake, not really. She was saying something much more important. Watching his other-self go through this exercise was more enlightening than ten thousand lectures from his parents about how he should treat his fiancée—or an equal number of malletings.

He hesitated for a long moment, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s pretty good. Thanks, Akane.” Everyone’s jaws dropped, and the sounds of one or two bodies falling over could be heard.

Akane stared at Ranma, incredulous; then, suddenly, tears were running down her cheeks. “You’re… you’re welcome, Ranma. I’m glad you… liked it.” She lowered her head, overcome.

Unnoticed, Ukyou did much the same thing.

Ranko looked Ranma in the eye, and he understood her silent message: “Well done.” Suddenly, Ranma was glad that Ranko had come to their world. Because she was him, they understood each other, and because she was a girl, she and Akane understood each other. Ranma had been sleeping in class when they had learned about the Rosetta Stone, but he would have appreciated the analogy.

Ryouga had watched all this in silence, and gazed at Ranko intently. You know… she’s a wonderful girl. I can really see why that other me fell in love with her. He shook his head. Not that I would, of course. She’s still Ranma, after all.

Ranko set about cutting more slices of cake (no mean feat) and placed them on plastic plates that Kasumi had provided. Akane noticed that aside from Kasumi, Nodoka, and Ryouga, no one took any, but today… she didn’t care. She was still glowing from Ranma’s remark.

Kasumi took a bite of her piece, chewed noisily, swallowed loudly and with some difficulty, then spoke up. “Why…”—she coughed a few times—“Oh, excuse me. Why don’t I go fetch the other snacks? Then we can start in on the presents.” She rose and headed into the kitchen, Nodoka following her; they returned with trays of mochi and o-nigiri. Akane sighed as everyone scrambled for those.

Rather than dwell on that, she headed over to the pile of presents stacked in one corner, and started ferrying them to the table. Ranko watched forlornly as Akane lay presents in front of Ranma, until some started landing in front of her as well. She gasped, and her face lit up. “For… for me?”

Akane nodded and smiled. The look on Ranko’s face made all the running around the previous day worthwhile. “How could we not get a present or two for the birthday girl?” Ranko giggled, and for a moment looked like a five year old again.

Ranma was poking at a large, oblong package. “Geez, this one’s pretty big.” He hefted it. “Hmmm.”

Akane smiled. “Save that one for last, OK?” She eyed both of them. “Well, what are you two waiting for?” She had to laugh as Ranma and Ranko tore into their presents with equal ferocity.

In short order Ranma uncovered some new wrist bracers (from his father), some more of his trademark silk Chinese shirts (from his mother), some aftershave (from Ukyou), and… something… handknit from Akane. He held it up to Ranko, a somewhat desperate look on his face, and after a few moments’ study, she mouthed the words “Sweater… I think.” This turned out to be correct, and Ranma was rewarded with another smile from Akane.

Ranko had only a handful of presents, but not having expected any at all she was delighted. She received a pair of earrings from Sayuri, who wondered why Ranko seemed amused when she opened them.

She received a hair ornament from her mother, the kind that goes with a kimono. In response to her mother’s query, she confirmed that she indeed had a kimono, purchased for this past New Year’s holiday by… her mother.

From Akane, she received a charm bracelet. It was a beautiful silver band, and from it dangled little metal kanji: the character for Akane’s name, and the character “ran,” from “Ranma.” She laughed, even as her eyes grew teary.

Akane looked puzzled. “What is it?”

Ranko shook her head and sniffled. “I’m sorry, Sis. It’s a wonderful bracelet; I love it. It’s just that this ‘ran’ is the wrong one. It was in my name when I was Ranma, but it isn’t now.” Akane tilted her head, still not understanding. “When Mother showed me my birth certificate, I found out that I was named ‘Ranko’ with the ‘ran’ meaning ‘orchid,’ not ‘disorder.’” An “Ahhhh…” of comprehension ran around the room. Nabiki nodded; she’d seen Ranko’s student ID.

Ranko smiled, her wet eyes crinkling. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled by it at the time, but now I think it’s pretty.” Nodoka smiled, and Ranma once again silently thanked Kami-sama that he’d been born a boy. He didn’t want the character for “orchid” anywhere in his name.

Akane grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t think of that.”

Ranko shook her head. “Don’t worry, Sis. I know what you meant to say. Thank you; this ‘ran’ will remind me of the time I spent here in your world, and who the bracelet came from.” Akane nodded, and felt a cloud pass over her.

Ranma hefted the large package again. “So, can I open this one yet?”

Akane smiled and nodded, her strange sadness dissipating. “I hope you like it.”

Ranma tore the wrapping paper off to reveal… a towel. He looked over at Akane, confused.

“I didn’t want the shape to give it away. Unwrap the towel.”

Ranma complied, and grew more confused. “I don’t get it. Why’d you put it in a violin case?”

Akane laughed. “Why don’t you open the case and find out?”

He did so, and his eyes widened. “A… a violin? For me?” Akane nodded, and Ranma’s face lit up. He gently took the violin out, and the bow as well. He turned the violin over and over, looking at it from all angles. “Wow…”

Akane clapped her hands together and laughed; she loved the all too rare occasions when the little boy in Ranma made an appearance. Everyone in the room smiled, even Ryouga.

Ranma looked up from his examination. “Thanks, Akane. I think this is the best birthday present I ever got. I mean it.” They were simple words, but they came from the heart.

Akane nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. “You’re very welcome, Ranma. You should thank Ranko, too; she went and picked one out for me. That’s what she was out doing earlier when she ran into Ryouga.” She blushed. “I’m afraid it’s a rental. I couldn’t afford to buy one outright.”

Ranma shook his head and smiled. “That’s OK. I… I wouldn’t want ya to spend that much money on me anyways.” His eyes strayed involuntarily to the dress Ranko was wearing. After a moment, his eyes traveled up to her face. “So I gotta go pay a rental charge?”

Ranko nodded. “If you decide to stick with it. Once a month, at Nishi Music on the main shopping street. After two years you’ll own it.” She blushed. “Ummm… I’m really sorry about this, but… you need to go as a girl.”

Ranma’s jaw dropped. “Huh? How come?”

Ranko was still blushing. “I said it was a gift for someone else, but Nishi-san wanted me to bring you in to try out the instruments yourself. So I said you were my twin sister and I could try it out for you. That was OK with him, but now he’s expecting a girl to come make the payments.” She giggled. “Don’t worry, I told him you were a real tomboy.”

Akane snickered. “Now who’s the tomboy, Ranma?” Everyone laughed as Ranma blushed himself.

He was about to reply that at least he was a cute tomboy, but something stopped him. A little-used corner of his mind, which had moldered unused for years until Jusendou, told him that that would hurt Akane’s feelings. That little part of his mind had gotten a lot of exercise the past day or two, from watching Akane and Ranko interact.

Akane, in the absence of a retort, felt a twinge of guilt. I should have been nicer about that. She smiled apologetically at Ranma, and his blush faded. “So, are you going to try it out?”

Ranma blushed all over again. “All I know is ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.’”

Ranko smiled. “Wait a minute while I get my violin. I have an idea.” She rose and scurried up the stairs. A minute later she returned with her own instrument. “Give me yours for a second so I can tune it up. I’ll show you later how to do that yourself.”

Ranma nodded. “OK. I gotta… go change, anyways.” He rose, handing the violin to Ranko, who proceeded to start tuning it. He headed into the kitchen, and returned moments later, slightly damp and thoroughly female.

Genma asked, “Why did you switch to your cursed form, Boy?” There was an undertone of accusation.

Ranma glared at her father. “’Cause I learned to play this way, by watchin’ her. When I get better at it I’ll do it in my guy form, but for now it’s easier this way.” She looked him up and down. “Considerin’ how much time you spend bein’ a furball, I don’t think you oughta be chuckin’ any rocks, Pop.” The elder Saotome shut up. Nodoka, who had been about to add her own comment, refrained. Her son had a point.

Ranko had finished with Ranma’s violin and was tuning her own. Ukyou, Hiroshi, and Daisuke, who hadn’t seen her play before, watched in fascination.

Ranko turned to Ranma. “OK, here’s what I had in mind. You just keep playing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle,’ over and over, and I’ll play around you.” They both lifted their instruments. “Ready?”

Her twin nodded. “Yup.”

“1, 2, 3…” Ranma began her one and only piece, and Ranko launched into a fugal counterpoint. Everyone watched, fascinated, as Ranma played the simple nursery rhyme on her violin, and her double turned it into a complex piece of music.

Ranko watched Ranma carefully, and smiled as she noticed that the other redhead was watching her just as closely. She wasn’t the least bit surprised when, after a minute, Ranma started to tinker with the melody herself. She copied simple elements from what Ranko was doing, and Ranko responded by incorporating even more variations. Ranma stayed very close to what she knew, but the little bit of extra variety on her part transformed what they were playing into something that sounded more like a duet for two violins than a child’s song.

No one breathed a word; the room practically crackled with the electricity of their playing, even though Ranma flubbed an occasional note. Nodoka had had her doubts about Ranma taking up the violin as a hobby, but these fled her mind as she watched her two redheads. Ranma clearly had the same gift that Ranko did. And it was the same gift they both applied to martial arts: adaptation and improvisation.

After a few minutes, Ranko felt she was running out of ideas, so she gradually brought the counterpoint back to where she started. Ranma got the hint, and they finished with a flourish.

Everyone burst into applause, but Ranma and Ranko hardly noticed; they were too busy grinning at each other. For just a moment, the gender gap between them faded away, and each saw herself in the other.

Ukyou spoke up, her earlier melancholy forgotten in the glow of seeing Ranma so happy. “Wow, Ranchan, that was great! You could be a violinist, too!”

Ranma opened her mouth to respond, but Nodoka did it for her. “I’m sure Ranma will enjoy it as a hobby, but he’s to continue the Saotome school of martial arts.”

Ranma snapped her mouth shut in irritation. She’d been about to say more or less the same thing, but once again, her parents had taken matters out of her hands. Ranma didn’t want to give up martial arts for the violin, but it sure would have been nice to make the decision herself. She was overtaken by a sudden flash of envy; Ranko clearly didn’t have the same pressures and obligations she did. Sometimes, Ranma wished she could just run away from being herself, and be someone else instead.

Her eyes went to the other redhead, and her mouth fell open. Her twin was doing a credible imitation of a volcano about to erupt; her battle aura was showing brightly. Ranma looked to Akane, whose jaw was also hanging open, and as one they went over to Ranko. Akane put her arm on Ranko’s shoulder, and the shorter girl’s anger subsided, though not before Nodoka noticed. Ranma was somehow comforted by the fact that Ranko had gotten angry on her behalf; it was just what she would have done for someone else.

Yuka, who’d been watching all this, blurted out, “Ranko-san, I’d like to hear you play something solo. I enjoyed listening to you so much yesterday. Would you mind?” Akane and Ranma both glanced at her, their eyes saying “Thank you…”

Ranko relaxed further. “Sure… I guess.” She looked around. “If that’s OK with everyone…” There was a chorus of agreement. Ranko furrowed her brow, deep in thought.

After a moment, Akane asked, “Is something wrong?”

Ranko shook her head. “No, I’m just trying to decide what to play.” Her family had already heard the Bach Partita the other evening; she wanted to play something else. She wanted something short, too, so she wouldn’t overshadow Ranma’s birthday party.

“Is that a problem?”

Ranko laughed. “A little. There actually isn’t a lot of music for solo violin; it’s not like the piano. There’s the Bach Partita, but I already played that the other night. Bach has other solo violin works, and there are a few works by other composers, but I haven’t learned them yet.

“The things I’m working on right now are mostly advanced practice pieces, and they’re not as much fun to listen to or play for an audience.” Her mind raced, and lit on the recital coming up in a month. “That might work… Kasumi-neechan, do you still have that old cassette player in the kitchen?”

Kasumi nodded. “Yes, I listen to tapes sometimes when I’m cooking.”

Ranko smiled; she’d expected that. “I’m working on the Beethoven Violin Sonata number 2 at the moment. Another student and I are going to perform it in a recital at the University in about a month. I’ve only finished learning the first movement, so if you don’t mind hearing just that…” Everyone voiced enthusiastic assent. Ranko nodded, and turned towards the stairs.

Nodoka asked, “Where are you going, Dear?”

Ranko turned and smiled. “It’s a piece for violin and piano. I have a tape with just the piano part that I use to practice at home. It’s in my portfolio.” She headed up the stairs, and a minute later returned with a cassette tape. She went into the kitchen, and came out with a somewhat battered looking cassette player. She plugged it in, inserted her tape, and picked up her instrument.

She took a moment to run over the first movement in her mind, then pressed the play button on the cassette player and lifted her bow; the room grew silent. Professor Murata’s voice came from the machine, counting “1, 2, 3…” for her cue, and she began to play as piano music emanated from the speaker.

It was a bright, cheerful piece, but quite difficult in spots, and Ranko grit her teeth as she navigated these rocky straits. She still needed more practice before next month, not to mention the other two movements she was still working on. Still, it was a lot of fun, and she thoroughly enjoyed playing it.

Everyone listened attentively, captivated by her performance. She would have been well worth listening to if she had been a stranger, but she was Ranma, and that made it even more fascinating.

Akane glanced around the room, and smiled; Ukyou, Hiroshi, and Daisuke were looking slightly stunned. She remembered feeling the same way the first time she had heard Ranko play the Bach Partita. Her eyes found Ryouga, and she blinked. He was staring at Ranko, his mouth slightly open, his eyebrows raised. His gaze never wavered from the redhead’s face. He looked utterly entranced, but there was something more in his gaze…

Her mind flashed back to what Ranko had said: “you heard me play my violin, and it hit you like a ton of bricks.”

Akane bit her lip. Uh oh.

The party had broken up into small groups. Ranma, Hiroshi, and Daisuke were in a corner, laughing about something. The fathers were playing shogi, and Kasumi and Nodoka were chatting about recipes. Nabiki had gone off to change the film in her camera.

Akane, Ukyou, and Yuka were listening as Ranko tried to persuade Sayuri to take up the piano again. She described Sayuri’s performance of “Für Elise” at the Fuurinkan talent show in her world, and how well she was doing in her lessons with Kobayakawa-sensei. Sayuri was listening intently, and looked like she was on the verge of giving in.

Akane looked around the room briefly, noting what everyone was up to. Her eyes stopped on the porch, where Ryouga was sitting by himself, staring off at the koi pond. She watched him for a moment, then excused herself and rose.

Ryouga’s eyes were pointed at the pond, but they were seeing other things; his thoughts were a confused jumble. He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there when he heard a voice behind him. “Do you mind if I join you?”

He turned, and Akane was standing there, her hands clasped in front of her. “Ummm… no, I guess not.” He turned back to the pond as Akane sat down beside him.

She watched him for a few moments; he had a faraway look in his eyes. “Ryouga-kun… it’s Ranko, isn’t it?”

He winced, and lowered his gaze. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighed. “I was telling myself the whole time that there was no way I could develop feelings for her. She’s Ranma, and I can’t stand Ranma.” His eyes unfocused again. “Or at least, that’s how I’ve felt about Ranma for a long time.”

He grew silent, and after a time Akane said gently, “But…”

Ryouga smiled sheepishly. “But when she was playing her violin, I caught myself wondering how long it was going to be before she returned to her world. I caught myself hoping she’d get stuck here.” He snorted. “When I first found out about her being my girlfriend in this other world, I thought there must be something different about this other me, something weird that let him fall so deeply in love with her. I guess I should have known better. She’s just… there’s something about her…”

Akane felt a chill run up her spine. This could get very ugly very fast. “What are your feelings for her?”

Ryouga peered over at Akane for a moment, then looked back to the koi pond. A koi leapt out of the water, then fell back with a splash. The fish were starting to get more active now that the weather was getting warmer. “I’m not deeply in love with her, if that’s what you’re asking.” His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Not yet.”

Akane relaxed a little. “Go on…”

Ryouga sighed and his shoulders slumped. “But I can’t say I don’t have feelings for her. And they’re getting stronger; I can see it coming. Another few weeks with her and I’d be hooked, but good. Then where would I be if she leaves? And I can’t try to keep her here; that other me, and that other you, and her whole family and all her friends are all waiting for her, worrying about her. Maybe you and I are sitting on this porch in that other world right now, and you’re crying for your sister, and I’m wondering where… where the woman I love is.” Akane felt a strange disquiet at the image he painted.

“And it’s Ranma, of all people! I’ll never be able to look at his girl form the same way again. Girl form, hell, I’ll never be able to look at him the same way again. Kami-sama…” He put his head in his hands.

The koi pond and Ryouga’s words led Akane’s mind back to the koi fishing rod incident. She wondered again why Ryouga had tried to snare Ranma if he felt that way about him, but decided not to pry. “And… what about Akari?”

Ryouga winced. “That’s what I’ve been thinking about the most. I can already see that my feelings for Ranko are different from what I feel for Akari. Akari worships me, and I care about her, but this…” He shook his head. “This is different. This is like something from a storybook. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.” Even you, Akane.

He sighed, and regarded the pond for a long time. “I’m going to have to think hard about Akari. Maybe I’m just seeing her because she’s the first girl who’s said she cares for me. Maybe not; maybe it’s more than that. And if Ranko were stuck here…” He didn’t finish, and was quiet for a while. “Already I’m wondering if I’m ever going to be able to feel this way about Akari. Or about any woman.” He frowned.

“What are you going to do?” whispered Akane.

Ryouga lifted his eyes and looked beyond the horizon. “I’m thinking… that I’d better leave before I get in any deeper, and try my best to forget her. That’s going to be hard with Ranma’s curse.”

Akane’s heart ached for Ryouga. “Do you want to just leave now, quietly?”

Ryouga shook his head. “No. I can’t hurt her like that. I already hurt her once today.” He rose with a heavy sigh. “I’ve got to say goodbye.”

He turned around and gazed at the redhead in the white sundress, who was laughing about something with the other girls. “I… I hope she’s gone the next time I come back. I don’t think I’ll be able to say goodbye to her twice.”

Ranko hurried to the genkan, Akane on her heels. As she turned the corner, she slowed to a halt. Ryouga was standing there, wearing his pack, his combat umbrella strapped to the top.

She looked him over. “You’re leaving?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“But… but you just got here! Won’t you stay for a little while?” She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes.

He closed his eyes for a long moment; when he opened them, he was smiling. “I wish I could… but I know I’d regret it.”

She blinked. “Regret it? Why?”

“Because it’s not going to get any easier to say goodbye to you forever when you go back to your world. So I’m doing it now.”

She looked confused for a moment; then her eyes widened in realization. “Oh, Ryouga… I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Her eyes grew wet and she lowered her gaze. “Gomen…”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll be OK.” I hope.

“I’ve been selfish. It… it was so nice to see you… even if you’re not my Ryouga.” She looked up at him. “Ryouga, I… I…”

He interrupted her. “Please… please don’t say it.”

She bit her lip, then nodded slowly. “All right.” She swallowed. “Take care. I hope… I hope you and A-akari are… happy together.”

Damn, she’s making this hard. “Thanks. Good luck getting home.” He smiled. “Take care.” He turned, slid the door open, and was gone.

Ranko bowed her head, tears running down her cheeks. Akane put an arm around her. “Ranko…”

Ranko whispered, “I want to go home…”

Akane nodded. “I know.” She gently guided Ranko back towards the living room. Suddenly, the redhead stopped short.

“What is it?”

Ranko groaned. “I forget to tell him to get a pocket GPS receiver. My Ryouga has one, and he doesn’t get lost any more.”

Akane smiled. “I’ll tell him the next time I see him, I promise.” She paused. “Maybe it’s just as well you didn’t tell him now.”

Ranko smiled a tiny smile through her tears. “Maybe.” She turned to Akane and hugged her. “Thank you, Sis.”

Akane hugged her back. “For what?”

Ranko pulled away and smiled. “For… for being you. For being friends with me while I’m here. For supporting me; I’ve needed it.”

Akane shook her head and smiled. “What else could I do?”

Ranko nodded, and the two just smiled at each other for a moment.

Ranko took a deep breath. “I think we should get back to the party.” Akane nodded, and watched as the redhead turned and walked back down the hall; after a moment, she followed.

Oh Ryouga, I wish I could run away like you. This is going to hurt.

“Had enough yet, old man?”

Ranma stood with his arms folded as his father once again peeled himself off the floor. They had come out to the dojo to practice once the party guests had left. Ranko had started her own practicing immediately thereafter, wanting to get several hours in even though it was her birthday. Ranma had wanted to stay and listen—and most of all, watch—but Genma had insisted that he work out some rather than “waste more time on music.”

As a result, Ranma had not been kind to his father. Genma was a superb martial artist, but the last year had indeed made Ranma the finest martial artist of his generation. He’d defeated a god; how could you top that? Genma decided he couldn’t; every muscle in his body ached.

“I think we’ve done enough for today, Boy. I just need to make sure you don’t get too soft!”

Ranma said nothing, but merely snorted. “I’m goin’ back to the house.” He turned and left as Genma staggered to his feet.

As he walked in the door, he was pleased to hear that Ranko was still practicing. He decided to put off his bath and catch the end of her practice session. He entered the family room and plopped down; the rest of the family was there, save Kasumi and his mother, who were in the kitchen working on dinner. Ranko acknowledged him with a smile, without breaking stride.

At the moment, she was working on the second movement of the violin sonata she’d played earlier; it was in rather rougher shape than the first. Ranma watched closely, fascinated, trying to absorb as much as he possibly could from her while she was still there.

He wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed when a voice called out from the genkan; it was the mailman. Kasumi hurried out of the kitchen and down the hall, leaving Nodoka to hold down the fort.

She returned a moment later, with a rather large bundle of mail in her arms. She came into the family room with it, and started to sort through it. “Ranma-kun, there are some birthday cards for you here!” Ranko paused her practicing, and she and her other-self turned to face Kasumi. She lay her violin down on the table.

Kasumi sorted through the pieces, handing the birthday cards to Ranma, who read the return addresses as he collected them. “Aomori… must be from Hirosuke and Auntie… Ucchan…” He held up a pitch black envelope. “Gehhh. This one’s from Kodachi. I’d better open it in the chem lab at school, under a hood.” Everyone laughed.

Kasumi was just about to hand him a curious-looking red and black envelope, but paused, and reread the address more closely. “Ranko-chan, you said you had the character for ‘orchid’ in your name, didn’t you?”

Ranko nodded. “That’s right, Oneechan. ‘Orchid child.’”

Kasumi seemed nonplussed. “This card appears to be for you.” She handed it to Ranko as the entire family watched, awash in curiosity.

Ranko examined the envelope. “I can’t read the return address. My name and address are in Japanese, but the return address is in Roman letters. They’re in some kind of fancy form I can’t recognize.”

Nabiki came over to kneel beside Ranko. “Here, let me have a look.” Ranko handed the envelope to Nabiki, and she peered at the return address. “It’s calligraphy; no wonder. Let’s see…” She blinked rapidly. “Ranko, do you know a ‘Prince Wilhelm von Dittersdorf’?” Ranko shook her head vigorously. Nabiki handed the envelope back. “That’s who it’s from. There’s no address, just the name.”

Ranko opened the envelope and pulled the card out; it appeared to be handmade. It said “Happy Birthday!” in English on the front. Below that was a rather credible likeness of herself, drawn in the super-deformed manga style, blowing out the candles on a cake. She smiled; whoever had drawn it was a decent artist. She opened the card, and found the inside was written in Japanese. A moment later, she gasped, and her face grew pale.

Everyone leaned forward, concerned; Nodoka came hurrying out of the kitchen. “What is it, Dear? What’s wrong?” 

Ranko tried to find her voice, but couldn’t. After a few seconds, Nabiki took the card from her unresisting hands, and read it aloud. “‘My dear Ranko, a very happy seventeenth birthday to you. Please accept my deepest apologies for the cavalier fashion in which I have spoiled your birthday plans and pressed you into my service. Rest assured that it is all in a good cause, and your involuntary servitude will soon be at an end. Your humble servant, Willie (the rock formerly known as a prince).’” Nabiki lowered the card in shock. “He must be the one who brought you here, Ranko.”

Ranko’s head was awhirl. “Do… do you think this means I’ll be going home soon?” No one had an answer.

Something took Akane’s guts and twisted them into a pretzel; she felt numb. She looked up at Nodoka, and the older woman’s face was ashen. Oh, Kami-sama… why did I let myself get so close to her? But she knew the answer: they had already been close when Ranko had arrived. Akane would never have been so uneasy about her otherwise.

The whole family sat in silence for a moment, digesting the news. Kasumi shook herself and resumed sorting through the mail; perhaps there was another piece for Ranko. There was. “Ranko-chan, here’s another card for you, but your name is written with the same kanji as Ranma’s.”

Ranko eagerly took the card from Kasumi and scanned the return address “Kobayashi…” Her shoulders sagged in disappointment, even as she chided herself. “It’s from Sayuri. No wonder the name is wrong. She must have mailed it yesterday.” She opened the envelope and smiled; the card had music notes swirling all over the front, and inside they circled the phrase “Happy Birthday.” There was a short note inside: “We hope you make it home before you get this, but if you’re still here… a big birthday hug from both of us. Sayuri and Yuka.” She blushed and smiled quietly.

Meanwhile, Kasumi had finished with the mail. “Ranko-chan, I’m afraid that’s it. There isn’t any other mail for you.” Nodoka ducked quickly back into the kitchen to rescue dinner, and Kasumi followed her.

Ranko sighed a long heavy sigh. “He drops a hint that I’ll be going home soon, but doesn’t say anything else! What are we supposed to do?”

Nabiki was still examining the card from “Willie.” There was a red and black coat of arms below his signature; it matched the colors of the envelope. “We wait, Ranko. We wait for the other shoe to drop.”

Chapter Text

Nodoka watched, subdued, as her children demolished the birthday feast she and Kasumi had prepared. They’d made a number of Ranma’s favorite dishes, hoping that they were Ranko’s favorites as well, and they’d guessed right. Her wide, delighted grin had been evidence of that. It was clear that despite being a girl, Ranko’s views on food were the same as Ranma’s. Ranma ate like a voracious killing machine, and Ranko ate like a lady, but they both ate. And ate.

She smiled a wan smile; it was a joy to cook for one’s family, but this was likely the last time she’d be able to do it for Ranko. Soon she’ll be gone, and I’ll never see her again…

She is not your child, she chided herself. She belongs to another you, in another world. She belongs with her mother, her family; they are surely grieving for her right now. Her heart, wiser in some ways and more foolish in others, sullenly refused to listen. It’s not fair, she thought. It’s not fair. I already lost my Ranko once. Why do I have to lose another one? The first time, it had at least been an even trade: she had lost “Tendou Ranko,” but she had gained back her son. Her precious son, gone for so many years, grown into a fine young man, albeit with… interesting problems. Even so, she’d grieved for the girl who hadn’t really existed.

This time, there would be no such compensation. This was a real girl, not a disguise. This girl was Nodoka’s own daughter, not some fictitious cousin of Akane’s. The fact that she was another Nodoka’s daughter didn’t really change that very much. And this girl would be gone… gone forever.

She had been able to accept that she could not have any more children, that she could not have the daughter she had always wanted. The gods gave one children, and one loved the children one got. But the gods had tormented her, tantalized her by dangling two redheaded not-quite-daughters in front of her, then snatching them away. Is one of my own too much to ask for?

Her gaze traveled to Akane, and there she found a melancholy that echoed her own. Akane was eating her dinner quietly, not really participating in the conversation. So, she made the same mistake I did. Not that we really could have avoided it…

She turned her attention back to Ranko, who was chattering away about some violin technique, her audience—Ranma—spellbound. It wasn’t that she would miss that face; she could see it every time her son’s curse took effect. It wasn’t even entirely who she was; she was in large part Ranma. It was that she was a feminine Ranma: a woman, like Nodoka. A daughter. Nodoka could share things with her that she could never share with Ranma, even when Ranma was a girl. Because Ranma was a man, even when he was a woman. Nodoka would not want it any other way.

As if guided by intuition, Ranko’s gaze met her own. There must have been something of Nodoka’s feelings in her face; the redhead’s eyes widened. Her head tilted, her mouth opened slightly, and her eyebrows rose in concern: “What’s wrong?”

Nodoka summoned every last ounce of will she had to hold back tears. She shook her head: “Nothing.” The last thing she wanted was for Ranko to find out how she and Akane felt. It would be wrong to make the child feel guilty for going home to her own family.

Nodoka’s luck ran out after only a couple of minutes. Ranko’s eyes happened on Akane; she blinked, then furrowed her brow. A few moments later, her eyes widened, and she started looking between Akane and Nodoka. Finally, a look of determination settled over her features.

Nodoka wasn’t suprised when the diminutive redhead corralled both of them after dinner, dragging them to Akane’s room for some privacy. She and Akane sat on the bed while Nodoka sat in Akane’s chair.

Ranko took Akane’s hand. “All right, out with it. Something’s bothering both of you. If someone has a gloomy face like that at a birthday celebration, there’s got to be a reason.”

Akane surprised both of them with her reaction. “Baka! How can you be so calm about this?”

Bewilderment spread over Ranko’s face. “About what, Sis? I don’t understand.”

Akane took a deep breath. “That card you got! You’ll be going home soon. And… and I’ll… I’ll never see you again! How can you be happy about that!” Ranko’s jaw dropped, and Akane suddenly realized what she was saying. Her anger evaporated, and she hung her head, feeling rather foolish. “I’m sorry. Of course you want to go home. It just… hurts.”

Ranko was shaking her head slowly. “Oh, Sis…” She turned her gaze to Nodoka. “Mother…” Pain colored her voice. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”

Akane’s mouth hung open. “You didn’t realize? Aren’t… aren’t you going to miss us? You’re never going to see…” She trailed off, then her eyes widened. Her face grew pink, and she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I keep forgetting how this all looks to you. Of course you’re not going to miss us; we’re there in your world. And… they’re your Akane, your mother. The ones you’ve known your whole life. We’re just these… weird doubles.”

Ranko shook her head. “No, Sis, you’re not weird doubles to me. But you’re right; I hadn’t thought about it much. To me, you’re the same people.” She eyed Nodoka, and again wondered why she seemed to differ in some ways. Now didn’t really seem like a good time to bring it up. Even so, this was her mother.

“You look the same, you… you mostly act the same. I know that you’re not exactly my sister and my mother, but when I look at you, that’s who I see. Not doubles. I was kind of thinking that going home would just mean that everyone would start acting normal again. Well, Ranma wouldn’t be there, but he’s me, so it isn’t like I’m going to miss him.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about how this looked to you.”

She looked between Akane and Nodoka again, and her voice turned hesitant. “Are… are you saying you want me to stay?” She held her breath, waiting for the answer.

Nodoka interceded, her voice firm. “No, Dear, absolutely not. We’ve only known you a few days, though it feels much longer. I guess that’s because you’re Ranma. But… we can’t do that to your family. We’ve already got one Ranma here; we can’t be that selfish. And you have your fiancé waiting for you, too.”

Ranko looked back and forth between them. “But why is it bothering you? Isn’t one of me enough?”

Akane and Nodoka looked at each other. Nodoka was reluctant to air her feelings, but she didn’t know what else to say. Finally she answered simply, “I’ve always wanted a daughter.”

Memories of the things she and her mother liked to do together flowed through Ranko’s mind, and she nodded and smiled sadly. “I understand. I’m sorry, Mother.”

Nodoka pasted on her best motherly smile. “Don’t be sorry, Dear. Many mothers are in the same situation. I’ve survived this long without one.” Ranko seemed to relax, and her smile brightened.

After a few moments, she turned to Akane with an expectant air. The short-haired girl bit her lip. “I guess… I see you as different from Ranma.”

Ranko tilted her head, puzzled. “Different how? Of course, he’s a boy and I’m a girl; we behave differently. Maybe I’ve matured a bit in the past seven months, and he hasn’t, yet. But when I look at him, I see me, except he’s a boy.” She grinned. “Even when he’s a girl.” She peered at Akane. “Is that it? Is it because I’m a girl?”

Akane shook her head. “No… no, I have two sisters and plenty of girlfriends. It isn’t just that.” She took a deep breath, and blurted out “I… I just feel so close to you, like we can share everything. I’ve never felt that way about Ranma.” She hesitated before admitting this in front of Nodoka, but plunged ahead. “I… I love him, I even want to… to marry him, just… just not right away.” She glanced nervously at Nodoka, who merely smiled.

“But I’m not close to him in the same way I am to you. It’s like there’s a barrier between him and me, a distance that isn’t there between you and me. He’s this martial arts god, we have trouble even getting along…” Her eyes suddenly grew teary, and she stopped speaking. After a while, she whispered, “He doesn’t mean to, but he intimidates me.” Nodoka tried to hide her disappointment.

Ranko put an arm around Akane; it was an akward position for her given her shorter stature. “Sis… you and he will get there. I’m sure of it. He has many of the same problems I had, because he was… raised the same way.” Again she glanced at her mother; she did not want to open this can of worms right now. Part of her wanted to go home without ever opening it at all, but she felt she owed it to Ranma to at least try to broach the subject. “He’ll grow up eventually.” She paused. “He is a boy, after all. You know they’re slow that way.” She winked.

Akane smiled in spite of herself, but it quickly faded. “Maybe. I… I’m not sure. Maybe some day…” She bit her lip, and her face grew very cloudy. “But with you here, I feel like I’ve finally gotten close to Ranma, and… and I’m going to miss that. I’ve gotten spoiled.”

Ranko was sitting at the dining room table, pondering what Akane had told her, when the other shoe dropped. And it was a good thing it didn’t land on anyone’s foot.

A call came from the genkan. “Gomen kudasai…”

Kasumi called “Hai!”, rose from her needlepoint work, and hurried down the hall. A minute later, she called “Ranko-chan? Could you come to the genkan, please?”

Ranko went to join Kasumi, and found a plump, middle-aged woman in the entryway. “Ranko-chan, this is Marumoto-san. She is one of our neighbors. Marumoto-san, this is Saotome Ranko. Could you tell her what you told me?”

Marumoto-san smiled at Ranko, then peered at her more closely, her brow furrowed. “Ranma-kun? Is that you? I knew about your little problem, but I didn’t know you had an alias you used as a girl.”

Ranko blushed. “I’m not Ranma, Marumoto-san. I’m a double of Ranma from a parallel universe, except I was born a girl. My name really is Ranko.”

Marumoto-san, being a neighbor of the Tendous, took this all in stride without batting an eyelash. “How interesting! Things have been so entertaining around here since the Saotomes arrived. It’s nice to meet you, Dear.” She beamed at Ranko for a moment, then blinked. “Oh, yes, as I was just telling Kasumi-san, today this simply huge envelope arrived in the mail. It was addressed to a Saotome Ranko, and we didn’t know anyone by that name, and frankly it looked a little bizarre. We thought it was a joke or something and were about to throw it out, but then I thought that maybe Ranma or his father might know who it was since they were named Saotome, so I decided to come over here and ask, even though it is a little late—I am sorry about that—but I’m glad I did, because here you are!”

Ranko thought she was going to explode as she waited for Marumoto-san to finish speaking. “Thank you, Marumoto-san. Did you bring it with you?”

Marumoto-san nodded. “Yes, indeed! It’s right here in this bag.” She lifted up a mesh shopping bag and held it open. Ranko reached inside, and her eyes bugged out as she wrestled a very heavy, very large plain brown mailing envelope from the inside. It weighed over two kilograms!

She and Kasumi examined the address. It was indeed addressed to her, by name—and with the correct kanji. Kasumi exclaimed, “Oh! Whoever sent it transposed two digits in the address. That’s why it went to your home instead of here, Marumoto-san.”

Marumoto-san nodded, smiling. “Well, I’m glad we didn’t throw it out! I’ll just be going home, then. Good night.” She turned and left.

Kasumi and Ranko called out “Good night,” in turn, and headed back to the family room.

Akane looked up as Ranko and Kasumi appeared. “What’s that? It’s pretty huge.”

“Someone sent me a package, but they addressed it incorrectly. I wonder if it’s another present?” She set it down on the table.

Ranma looked over at the large brown envelope from his place in front of the TV. “Who’s it from?”

Ranko peered at the envelope; she hadn’t looked beyond the recipient address before. The color drained from her face.

Nodoka put down her book and leaned forward. “What is it, Dear? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ranko swallowed audibly. “It’s from… it says it’s from the ‘Bureau of Mortal Affairs, Mortal Auxiliary Support Department.’” She looked over the rest of the envelope, and her jaw dropped. Instead of postage, it bore an imprint, which she read aloud: “Interreality postal permit 126517906153-642. Official use only. Unauthorized use is prohibited and may be punishable by fine, imprisonment, or…” she blinked, “eternal damnation.”

Suddenly Nabiki, Ranma, and Akane were all looking over her shoulder, peering at the envelope themselves.

Nabiki felt a little light-headed. It wasn’t every day that you received mail from the gods. Official mail. “Maybe… maybe you should open it?” She winced. Insightful, Nabiki. Really insightful.

Ranko ripped open the envelope and slid out the contents: an enormous stack of papers. On top was a form.

Form 487389566-QRZ (Revised 5384 B.C.): Instructions for Mortal Auxiliaries (Package Contents)

Dear Mortal,

This package contains information necessary to your position as a temporary mortal auxiliary. Please take care not to lose it; it contains much important information and cannot be easily replaced.

“Great,” said Akane, “It’s important and can’t be easily replaced, and they misaddressed it. It could have wound up in an incinerator.”

Enclosed you will find:

(Qty 1) Cover letter

(Qty 235) Official forms and instructions

(Qty 93) Informational brochures

(Qty 107) Valuable coupons and offers

“I don’t believe this…” moaned Ranko. She turned the page.

Form 939587284-WWU (Revised 1203 A.D.): Cover letter

Greetings, From the Director of the Bureau of Mortal Affairs

Congratulations! You have been selected to serve the multiverse as a mortal auxiliary!

“Really?” deadpanned Ranko, “I hadn’t noticed.”

Your service is a result of:

O The whim of one or more gods

O Bad karma during a previous existence

X The wish of a mortal

O The eternal battle against the forces of darkness

Everyone boggled. “Somebody wished for this?” asked Ranma. Everyone looked around at everyone else, but no one looked like the guilty party. Ranko continued reading.

Your status as an auxiliary is temporary and will lapse at the conclusion of your service. Abuse of your status as a mortal auxiliary is a serious offense and may result in your retroactive erasure from reality.

Ranko swallowed. “Let’s pass on that, shall we?” She wondered what exactly constituted “abuse.”

Please be sure to read all of the attached important material in order to be fully informed as to your responsibilities and rights, and your situation.

Ranko eyed the huge stack of materials. “All of it?!”

Instructions on your mission, and how to return to your own reality when it is concluded, are included on the appropriate forms. Enjoy this unique experience, and welcome to the mortal auxiliaries!

That was the end of the cover letter. Ranko started to flip through the other materials; they seemed to be in no discernible order. She pulled the first item off the stack. It was a glossy four-color brochure. She read aloud:

The Interreality Agricultural Pest Control Bureau

We Keep Crops Safe in Your Universe!

“Yes,” observed Nabiki drily, “obviously this material is very important.”

Two hours later, Ranko, Akane, Ranma, and Nabiki were still plowing through the huge stack of paper, as the rest of the family watched, somewhat incredulous. They were still looking for useful information, and hadn’t found much. Everyone’s eyes were starting to glaze over.

“Hey Ranko,” called Nabiki. “Here’s another coupon.”

“What’s it for?”

“A free tankard of mead at the Fox and Vole pub in London.”

“And when did this one expire?”

“June 22, 1189.”

The “valuable” coupon joined several more like it in a growing trash pile. Ranko pulled the next item off the stack; it was another brochure.

The Interreality Bureau of Weights and Measures

Want to know how high up is? We have the answer!

Her eyebrows shot up, but at the moment she was more interested in finding out how to get home than how high up was, so it landed in the trash pile, too.

Most of what they had gone through had been like this: marginally useful, or not at all. Ranko had had her question answered; they’d found:

Form 295729480-KKF (Revised 1489 A.D.): Abuse of Mortal Auxiliary Status

The following actions are expressly forbidden to you during your tenure as a mortal auxiliary. Breach of these prohibitions is punishable by retroactive erasure from reality.

- Transport of objects massing more than 1 million metric tons between realities, including celestial bodies.

- Injuring a Certified Public Accountant or Notary Public.

- Import of animals or plants to a reality where they have mythical status.

- Trading securities based on knowledge of another reality.

- Founding a new religion.

- Using a weapon of mass destruction.

- Parking in a loading zone.

Ranko had felt some relief, as she certainly didn’t intend to do any of these. This was the most useful form they’d found so far. Others had included:

Form 398723927-KJS (Revised 1301 B.C.): Application for Permit to Transport Livestock Between Realities

Form 390103992-YXL (Revised 1098 A.D.): Self-Declaration of Mythical Status

Form 209818027-ALK (Revised 3072 A.D.): Application for License to Operate a Field Inversion Gate

They’d spent a few minutes trying to figure out what a “field inversion gate” could possibly be, and wondering what a form from 3072 was doing in Ranko’s package, but had given up and decided to press on through the stack.

It was getting on towards 11 o’clock, and everyone was getting rather bleary-eyed, when Akane called out “Ranko! Look at this!”

Ranko tossed aside the brochure from the Interreality Messiah Certification Board and took the form which Akane held out to her.

Form 298742094-YUI (Revised 722 A.D.): Mortal Auxiliary Mission Details (Mortal Wish)

In order to protect the privacy of clients granted wishes, it is not possible to divulge either the details of the wish you are helping to grant or the identity of the mortal who made it. This form lists actions you should take to help fulfill the wish, and the current status of your mission.

There was a box, which was filled in with:

Be seen together with Ranma by at least 80% of the student body at Fuurinkan High School. It would be best to wear relatively feminine clothing (e.g., dresses rather than blue jeans). Ranma must be in his male form. Your non-mortal supervisor will take care of all other issues pertaining to granting this wish.

Below that was a section entitled “Mission Status”:

Your mission is currently _100%_ complete. When this number reaches 100%, Form 109822942-SOR (Instructions for Return to Home Reality) will appear in your package.

Ranko blinked. The “100%” was typewritten; how could it change? She shrugged; it didn’t really matter. “Well, at least we know the instructions on how I can get home are in here somewhere.” She beamed. “I’ll be going home soon!” Her smile faded as she noticed Akane and her mother looking very, very somber.

She sighed and peered at the form once more. “I guess the wish is complete now. So that’s why we ran into all those people this morning. But why would someone make a wish that involved people seeing Ranma and me together? And why did Ranma need to be in male form?”

Akane’s brow furrowed, and after a few moments her eyes widened. “Ranko, do you remember what Kunou said when he ran into us this morning? ‘Thus is the vile lie exposed!’ He and his loony sister are the only people who think Ranma’s girl side and his boy side are two separate people!”

Ranma groaned. “You’re right! That’s gotta be it. One of ’em musta wished for the ‘vile lie’ to be ‘exposed.’ This prince guy needed a girl version of me to make it happen. That’s gotta be why it says I need to be a guy and she needs to wear a dress.” He turned to Ranko. “Sorry ’bout this, kiddo.”

Ranko was seething. “It’s not your fault. It’s those idiots’ fault!” She sagged and let out a long sigh as the anger suddenly left her. “There’s no point in getting upset, I guess. It’s too late to do anything about it now.”

Ranma grinned. “How’s about next time I pound the moron, I give him a few extra for you?”

Ranko laughed. “Thanks.” She rubbed her eyes. “You know, I just can’t stare at this fine print any more. I have a headache.” There was a chorus of agreement.

Kasumi looked around. “Maybe we should all go to bed and continue in the morning?” Ranko nodded, rose, and headed into the kitchen in search of aspirin. The family started to drift off to prepare for bedtime.

Ranko caught up with the other women in the bath. To speed things along, the men had bathed together, and the women were now doing the same. With the three Tendou sisters, Nodoka, and Ranko all in the tub, it was a bit of a tight squeeze, but they managed.

From the mood, you might have thought it was a funeral rather than a bath. Nodoka and Akane were both morose; Ranko took her cue from them. Kasumi and Nabiki watched all this transpire in silence.

Ranko reflected that her visit was ending the same way it had begun: with a family bath. This time, instead of the air of uneasiness which had pervaded the family, it was an air of mourning. Even though she hadn’t been part of their family, they were her family, and somehow, it seemed she was going to be leaving a hole when she left.

She looked back and forth between her mother and Akane, and settled on the older woman. “Mother, I…”

Nodoka shook her head. “No, Dear. I’ll be fine; I’m just a little sad. I’m sorry I even told you how I feel; I don’t want you to suffer because of this. It’s not your fault.” Again, she summoned her will and her experience as a mother, and managed a smile of affection. She was rewarded by a little smile stealing onto Ranko’s face.

The redhead nodded slowly, then turned to Akane. She tried a smile, and Akane gave a halfhearted smile in return, a smile that said “It’s going to be all right.”

Ranko thought, Yeah, right. And everyone says I’m the one who’s bad at lying.

Her heart tightened, but she knew that there was nothing she could do to change the fact that this Akane and this mother were going to miss her. And yet she also knew that at that very moment, her Akane and her mother were missing her, and she wanted to go home to her own family and her own life. It was a no-win scenario. She knew she couldn’t stay, but she wished there were something she could do to make her loved ones here feel better.

After the bath, everyone quietly headed off to bed, but Ranko wandered back to the family room. Her head still ached—possibly more than it had earlier—and the aspirin hadn’t taken effect yet. She hoped it would soon; too bad it wouldn’t do anything for the ache in her heart.

She found Ranma there, too, flipping channels on the television. It looked like he wasn’t ready to sleep, either.

He looked up briefly as she dropped down to sit next to him, sagging slightly as she arranged herself on the floor. “Ain’tcha goin’ to bed?”

She smiled faintly. “My headache is still pounding away. I’m waiting for the aspirin to work.”

He nodded, somewhat distracted. “And you?” she asked.

He didn’t answer for a while. “Akane and Mom are sure takin’ your leavin’ pretty hard.”

Ranko raised an eyebrow. “You noticed, huh?”

He snorted. “Yeah. It was hard to miss.” He glanced down, tuning out the TV. He’d landed on some American movie, dubbed into Japanese. It looked like a kid’s movie, set at a summer camp.

He seemed to have something more on his mind, but just stared at the floor; Ranko waited patiently for him to continue. “I’ve been thinkin’ alot about what you said last night. About bein’ Akane’s friend.” He looked up at Ranko. “And I decided… you’re right. I gotta be her friend too, not just her fiancé. After watchin’ you guys, I can understand that.” He sighed. “But… I dunno. I mean, we…” he looked around to make sure they were alone, “we l-love each other, but… whenever we try to get together, we just… I dunno… fight.” He eyed her. “You guys get along great. Akane and me, we oughta get along like that, too.” He offered a wan smile. “I’m kinda jealous, y’know?”

Ranko sighed. “I know. She told me she feels like there’s a barrier between you and her, but there isn’t between me and her.” She blushed. “I’m sorry about this. I sort of grabbed onto her when I first got here, because I’m so close to my Akane, and… and I really needed her. Now, she’s gotten attached to me.” She shook her head. “We’ve got to find a way for her to feel comfortable with you, too. I’m not going to be here past tomorrow, but you guys will be spending the rest of your lives together. We’ve got to get her to see that you can be her friend the same way I can.”

Ranma’s brow furrowed. “But how? Every time I try to talk to her, it’s like our defenses go up. I’ve been watchin’ you, and I think I can… I can do better talkin’ to her, but I dunno if she’s gonna give me the chance. How can I get her to relax the way she does when she’s talkin’ to you?”

Suddenly a girl’s voice said, “I have a brilliant idea!” Two pairs of eyes swiveled around to the television. On the screen, two young girls were having a conversation.

They were identical twins. They were redheads. Ranma’s and Ranko’s jaws dropped.

“What is it?” replied the other redhead on the TV.

“I think we should switch places! When camp is over, I’ll go to London as you, and you go to California as me!”

“What?!”

“We can do it! We’re twins, right?” Ranma and Ranko looked at each other, blinked, then looked back to the TV.

“But we’re so different!”

“That’s OK! Look, I can already do you!” She imitated the other girl’s way of speaking.

Ranma slowly raised the remote control and turned the television off. He and Ranko both stared at the dark screen for a minute, then turned to stare at one another.

Slowly, a grin crept onto both their faces.

The clock was slowly creeping up on 3 AM as two redheads plotted strategy in the family room. After making sure the rest of the family was asleep, they’d snuck back downstairs to meet. Ranma was in her female form, and they were both wearing pajamas, because Ranko was giving Ranma a crash course in how to be her. Having spent twelve years as Ranma herself, Ranko didn’t feel she needed any education in that department.

Ranma already knew how to use female speech—every male knew what it sounded like, and she’d had a fair amount of practice during the last year. She had just needed a little tutoring to tone down her exaggerated femininity. They’d been at it for over two hours, and as always Ranma was a fast learner when she was motivated. As a result, anyone watching at the moment would have been hard pressed to tell the two girls apart except by what they were saying. And the fact that one of them had her hair in a pigtail.

One redhead asked, “Are you sure we shouldn’t just swap now? It’ll be harder tomorrow when everyone’s awake. Especially Nabiki-neechan.”

The other shook her head. “No, we’ll never be able to pull this off for the whole day. You haven’t had enough practice yet, and someone is going to start wondering why I don’t ‘change back.’ Our best bet is to swap right after I ask Akane to meet for a private talk.” She grinned. “Besides, if Akane finds out you slept in her room, she’ll go ballistic.”

Ranma sighed. “True.” She frowned. “Why do you say I haven’t had enough practice yet? I think I’m speaking the same way you do.”

Ranko nodded. “You are. But you haven’t had practice in something just as important: being open with your feelings. That’s a big difference between us; Akane noticed it right away. It took me a long time to open up like that after I became Ranko again, to say what I was feeling rather than holding back all the time. You won’t be able to overcome that right away. Akane will catch on sooner or later, and we shouldn’t give her a chance before you two get together. And there are other things everyone might pick up on. You haven’t lived as a girl for seven months like I have.”

Ranma tilted her head. “I guess you’re right. All right then, we’ll wait until just before you meet Akane.” She peered at Ranko. “Are you sure you know how to be me?”

“Hey,” said Ranko using male speech, “I ain’t stupid, ya dumb macho tomboy!”

Ranma bristled for a moment, then stopped, her mouth falling open. This was how she made Akane feel, wasn’t it? Her cheeks turned pink in embarrassment as Ranko smiled. “Well, I guess you haven’t forgotten…” Suddenly she yawned, and Ranko yawned with her.

Ranko rubbed her eyes. “I want to get to bed before my headache comes back. This ought to be enough to get you through one conversation with Akane. After that you two are on your own.”

Ranma nodded. “I know. I just hope it’s enough to get us past the first step. I’d like to be able to be friends with her without having to pretend to be you.” She smiled. “Thank you; I really appreciate your helping me with this.”

Ranko nodded in approval. “That was very good! You expressed some feelings there. You’re getting the idea.”

Ranma’s smile broadened into a grin. “Thank you, Oniichan.”

Ranko grinned too. “Anytime, kiddo.”

“Yaaaaaahhh!”

Akane’s punch passed through the space Ranko had occupied a moment before, meeting nothing but empty air. For her efforts she was rewarded with a smart rap in her side. It hurt a bit, but she didn’t hesitate, completing her motion and taking up a new position from which to evaluate the situation.

She and Ranko circled each other. “I was too aggressive just then, wasn’t I?”

The redhead nodded. “Yes. You left yourself open because you overextended yourself.”

Akane nodded herself. “I thought so. I’ll try to watch that.” Ranko didn’t respond with words, but leapt, fingers extended for a blow. Akane reacted on instinct, and managed a twisting leap that avoided the attack, but just barely. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t have succeeded if Ranko hadn’t been holding back.

The day had dawned gray and dreary, and that had matched Akane’s mood perfectly. She’d woken before Ranko, and had spent a few minutes watching her roommate slumber in the gray light before trying to wake her. That had been more difficult than usual for some reason.

Today Ranko was likely to go home, and Akane had wanted one more sparring session with her. She could tell it was improving her skills, and it also got her mind off the redhead’s imminent departure. Ranko had been happy to oblige in any case.

The sun had started to break through the early morning mist as their session had progressed, but Akane’s mood had not improved with the weather. She wasn’t angry at Ranko, but part of her was feeling sullen and resentful, and the negative emotions were throwing her off a bit. She was trying to push that aside, with mixed success.

Ranma watched quietly from the porch; he, too, looked a little bleary-eyed. For some reason, his father was content to let him sit and evaluate the match, and that was exactly what he was doing. He’d been too shocked discovering Ranko to properly observe the action on Friday; today, he was watching intently. He observed how Ranko was pushing Akane, holding back so as not to overwhelm her but rather fighting at a level just beyond that of Akane herself. And Akane was following Ranko’s gentle lead, pushing herself.

His face was tinged slightly pink as he thought about the times he had battled with Akane. Usually it was only when she gained some magical advantage, like the Super Soba, and he couldn’t bear the thought that she could beat him. He’d felt compelled to prove he was better, that he was the best, that he could always beat her. Those few times they’d fought, she’d been so eager to show him that she was an equal, but he hadn’t ever felt he could allow that. Because Saotome Ranma never lost. He hadn’t even thought about trying to improve her skills; all he’d cared about was reestablishing his own supremacy.

Why?

As he watched Ranko and Akane spar, he thought about his goal in life: to be a martial arts sensei, to continue the dojo. Ranko had given up on being a sensei, but she was acting like one, concentrating on the development of her student. When had he ever done that? All he had cared about was winning. What kind of a sensei would he be with an attitude like that?

He’d lived with Akane for a year, and it had taken a girl version of himself from another reality to try to teach her, to help her to improve. I shoulda been doin’ this all along, he thought. His face turned a deeper shade of pink.

After an hour, both girls decided to call it quits. They went off to wash up, and when Ranko returned for breakfast she was wearing the same outfit she had when she arrived: teal v-neck top, jean skirt, and hose. She didn’t say anything about going home, but she didn’t need to: her outfit said it for her. There was little conversation during the meal.

Ranma watched the redhead for a short while, continuing to muse on the differences between them. One of them reminded him of something. “Hey, Ranko, any chance I could get one more violin lesson from you before…” He noticed the ashen expression on Akane’s and his mother’s faces, and left the sentence unfinished. Baka. You had to rub it in, didn’tcha.

Ranko smiled and nodded. “Sure. After we finish sorting through the papers.”

They returned to that task after breakfast; once again, Ranko, Ranma, Akane, and Nabiki made their way through what was left of the stack. As Akane scrutinized each paper, she tried to ignore the little voice in her head which told her to destroy the instructions for Ranko’s return if she were the one to find them.

They hadn’t been at it very long when Nabiki paused, her eyes widening. Suddenly, she drew her breath in sharply. Everyone turned to look at her.

“Oneechan?” asked Ranko, tentatively.

Nabiki swallowed. “It’s another coupon. This one hasn’t expired.”

“Oh?” asked Ranko. “What’s this one for? A free takoyaki at a stand in Sapporo?”

Nabiki shook her head. “It’s… it’s for… one free wish. Whatever… whatever you want.”

Ranko snatched the coupon from Nabiki’s outstretched hand, and scanned it. She read aloud:

One free wish, no restrictions.

This coupon has no expiration date.

This coupon may only be redeemed by Saotome Ranko, daughter born to Saotome Nodoka and Saotome Genma of Nerima ward, Tokyo, Japan, on March 18, 1983, at 7:23 AM. Any version of Saotome Ranko meeting this definition may use this coupon.

Ranko blinked; there were other versions of her, as well? She supposed it made sense.

Instructions: Please write your wish in the space below, and sign your name or use your seal when you are certain of your wish. This will redeem the coupon and cause your wish to take effect.

Note: For best results, sit down, drink a nice cup of tea, relax, and think things through before making your wish. Ill-considered wishes can be hazardous to your reality.

Paperwork reduction act notice: average time to complete this form is twelve minutes, exclusive of time to consider your wish.

There was an empty box below the print, which took up most of the space on the paper, and a line for her signature.

Those who had wondered why Nabiki hadn’t silently kept the coupon for herself had their question answered. A hush fell over the room; this really was a valuable offer.

Ranko gently placed the coupon on the small pile of useful forms. “I’m going to have to think about that one.” They continued working their way through the pile, the mood a little more somber.

The mood was much more somber when, an hour later, they finished off the last of the stack. There had been no sign of Form 109822942-SOR. It just plain was not there.

Nodoka hurried over to embrace her daughter as the redhead burst into tears, even as her face burned with shame at that part of her heart which was rejoicing.

As lunchtime approached, they finished their second pass through the documents. Since they were looking for something specific, it had been quicker than the first. It hadn’t been any more successful, however. They’d looked through every single piece of paper again, and the form simply wasn’t there.

Ranko was huddled with her face buried in her knees as the family looked under and around the table, under the TV, behind the furniture, and generally anywhere they could think of on the off chance the form had fallen from the stack and become hidden. They’d had no luck.

Akane was looking through the small stack of useful forms just in case they’d misplaced it there, and came across the coupon for a free wish. Suddenly, her eyes widened. Part of her heart was screaming at her to keep her mouth shut, but she said “Ranko? You know, if we can’t find the form, you can always use your wish coupon to get home.”

Ranko’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. “You’re… you’re right! I didn’t think of that.” A small smile took root on her face, and slowly blossomed into something beautiful; Akane’s heart gladdened. “Thank you, Sis.” The redhead sighed in relief.

Kasumi looked in from the kitchen. “Akane, would you mind clearing the table off for me? Lunch is nearly ready.”

Akane nodded. “Will do, Oneechan.” She picked up the envelope the papers had arrived in, and picked up a stack from the top of the “useless” pile. Useless though they seemed, it was probably a really bad idea to throw them out without being certain of that.

She stuck a thumb into the envelope to help spread it apart in order to insert the papers with her other hand, and winced; she’d gotten a paper cut from something inside. Curious, she put the papers down and pulled the envelope open with both hands to look inside.

There was a lone piece of paper in the envelope.

Her hand trembling slightly, Akane reached in to withdraw the paper. It didn’t want to come out; it looked like it was stuck on some adhesive from the envelope’s flap. She coaxed it gently, and it came free. As she scanned it, her face turned pale.

It was the form they had been looking for.

“Ran… Ranko?”

Ranko looked up, and felt her heart seize up as she saw Akane reading a form, her face ashen. Slowly, Akane reached out and handed the form over, fighting her desire to tear it to shreds. It wouldn’t do any good anyway; Ranko had her wish to use. And Akane couldn’t do something like that to her.

Ranko took the form, and gasped when she saw what it was. She read it aloud, in a voice that was barely above a whisper:

Form 109822942-SOR (Instructions for Return to Home Reality)

Congratulations! Your mission as a mortal auxiliary is complete. You may stay for a few extra days if you like, but we recommend that you return to your home reality soon. You will find that your presence in another reality can easily cause disruptions for people who know your counterpart there.

Ranko paused to sigh silently in agreement.

Please collect all possessions you had with you when you arrived. Only items that are actually on your person will return with you. If you forget anything and leave it behind, you will not be able to retrieve it later. You may leave things behind if you wish, and you are allowed to take a small number of items from this reality with you as long as they were lawfully obtained. The value of these items may not exceed 50,000 yen.

Remember, you are expressly forbidden to transport objects massing more than one million metric tons, including any celestial bodies, as well any animal or plant that has mythical status in your home reality. Examples of animals that are mythical in many realities include unicorns and dragons. If you are unsure about a particular animal or plant, consult an oracle.

When you are sure you are ready to return, follow the instructions in the box below. If you are prone to motion sickness, you may wish to take some medication before your departure.

There was a large box on the form, which was mostly empty, except for two lines of typewritten text:

Say the words, “There’s no place like home,” and click your heels together three times.

Several jaws hung open, and there was no sound in the room for a few moments.

Finally, Ranko found her voice. “That’s it?!” she shrieked. “That’s the powerful magic we’ve been searching for that will take me home?” She lay the form on the table and put her head in her hands. “I don’t believe this…”

“Well,” observed Nabiki, “I guess someone up there likes old movies.” There were a few chuckles.

Ranko started to brighten. Silly though it might be, she now had the means to go home. All she had to do was follow these simple, insipid instructions, and she’d be back with her Akane… with her mother… with her Ryouga. Her heart ached for home, and she could hardly wait to go; she felt as if she could reach out and touch it. But a glance at the grim expressions of Akane and her mother told her she couldn’t go, not just yet. Soon, though. Soon. A tear rolled down her cheek, which did not escape Akane’s notice.

She moved to help Akane clear the table, and soon Kasumi was serving lunch. There was hardly any conversation, and Ranko, Akane, and Nodoka didn’t seem to have much appetite.

Akane was afraid to ask, but felt she had to. “Ranko, when… when are you planning to leave?”

Ranko stared at the table for a while. “I… I promised Ranma one more lesson. And I want to spend a little time with you, Sis. After that, I think.” She looked up, her eyes wet. “My family… they may not even know what happened to me…”

Akane smiled through her own tears. “I know. You should go as soon as you can.” Akane had only faint memories of her mother’s death, but she remembered this feeling very well: the realization that she was about to say goodbye forever to someone she loved.

Ranma finished her last set of chords with a flourish and a wide grin, and took a bow. This time, they’d been perfect.

Ranko grinned right back at her, and for a moment the two of them shared something that didn’t need to be put into words. “OK, I think that ought to hold you until you can start seeing Kobayakawa-sensei. Don’t wait too long to see her, and keep practicing every day.”

Ranma nodded, and started to put away her violin. She paused for a moment, her eyebrows knit in a frown. “Does… does she know that you used to be a guy?”

Ranko nodded. “Yes. It was all over the school, of course, and she couldn’t help finding out. She never saw me in boy form, though. By the time I met her, I couldn’t change any more.”

Ranma was still lost in thought. “How… how’d she take it?”

Ranko smiled one of her Kasumi smiles. “Don’t worry. She’s a sweetheart; she won’t have any trouble with your curse.” Ranma’s face brightened, and she nodded in relief. “You might want to demonstrate it the first time you meet her, though, just so she knows who you really are. I’m pretty sure she won’t mind teaching you in whatever form works for you.”

Ranma smiled. “Good. I didn’t wanna haveta look for another sensei. She sounds pretty good. Any chance you could introduce me to her?”

Ranko shook her head, smiling. “Ranma, she won’t have any idea who I am.”

Ranma frowned; then her eyes widened. “Oh, right. I keep forgettin’.”

Ranko turned to finish putting away her own violin, and spoke over her shoulder. “Are you ready? It’s time for your chat with Akane.”

Ranma nodded nervously. “Yeah, I guess.” She thought a moment, and her posture changed subtly. “I mean, ‘Yes, I think so.’”

Ranko straightened up. “Come on. Let’s go in the storage closet.”

Ranma blinked. “What for?”

“We have to swap clothes. And I mean everything.”

Ranma stared. “But… but… you’re a girl! You’re gonna… gonna take off…”

Ranko laughed. “If it were anyone but you, I wouldn’t do this. But you’re me, and I’m you, and even though you’re a boy and I’m a girl, I… it just doesn’t feel like that matters in this case. Especially since you’re a girl right now.”

Ranma rubbed the back of her head, a little embarrassed. “I guess not.”

They ducked into the storage closet, and a few minutes later two redheads emerged. One was wearing Chinese clothes and had her hair in a pigtail; the other was wearing a teal v-neck top, a jean skirt, and hose, and her hair was unbound except for a hair ornament.

The one in Chinese clothes turned to the other. “Ready, kiddo?”

The other one swallowed. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go.” They left the dojo, carrying their violins, and walked back to the house. They went to the living room, where the family was assembled.

Nodoka looked up and smiled. “How was your lesson, Dear?”

There was a short pause before the redhead in the Chinese clothes replied, “Great, Mom! I’m gonna call up that sensei’a hers tomorrow, and see if she’ll take me as a student.”

Nodoka turned to the other one. “You know, I wasn’t sure about this to start with, but I think this will be very good for Ranma. Thank you, Dear.”

The redhead in the jean skirt beamed. “You’re very welcome, Mother.” She turned to Akane. “Sis? Do… do you have some time? I’d like to… to talk to you.”

Akane nodded, her face somewhat grim. She knew that Ranko planned to leave soon afterwards. “Of course, Ranko. Let’s go up to my room, OK?” The girl with unbound hair nodded, and followed Akane up the stairs.

Genma looked up from the shogi board. “Aren’t you going to change back, Boy?”

The remaining redhead paused for a moment. “Think I’ll go work out for a bit before I take a bath.”

Genma grinned. “That’s the spirit! I’d join you but it would be rude to walk away from this game. You go ahead.”

The redhead snorted. “Sure, Pop. Whatever you say.” She turned and walked back towards the dojo.

Akane pulled the door to her room closed behind her and went over to sit on the bed. The redheaded girl who had followed her in hesitated, gazed longingly at the doorknob, then went over and sat next to her.

They looked at each other for a long moment. Unbidden, tears welled up in Akane’s eyes. “So this is it, huh? Goodbye forever?”

The redhead’s face showed pain as well. “Sis… I’m sorry. I… I don’t like seeing you unhappy. I wish there were something I could do.”

Akane blinked; Ranko seemed to be speaking very deliberately, as if she were carefully considering each and every word. She shook her head. “It’s my own fault. I never meant to get so close to you.” She smiled ruefully through her tears. “You made it so easy, though.”

The redhead blushed. “I’m sorry about that.”

Akane’s face screwed up in pain. “Now I’ll never see you again…”

The other girl reached out her hand, pulled it back, hesitant, then reached out again and put it on Akane’s shoulder. “But… but that’s not quite true. You have Ranma, don’t you? He’s… me.” She said it almost as if she were realizing it herself for the first time. “Otherwise you would never have gotten so close to me so fast.”

Akane bit her lip. “Well… you have a point, but I could never have a conversation like this with that baka. I love him, but we can’t seem to go five minutes without starting to fight.” She blinked again, as Ranko grew very quiet and a strange series of emotions played out over her face in rapid succession: amusement, anger, happiness, shame. She didn’t seem to know how to react. Akane couldn’t understand; she’d just made a simple statement, hadn’t she? Why was Ranko so flustered by it?

The redhead seemed to be thinking furiously, and took a long time to reply. “Are… are you sure? He might surprise you. If you love him… if you’re going to… to m-marry him, don’t you need to be his friend, too?”

Akane sighed, a long heavy sigh. “Of course I do, but… it’s been the same story the whole time I’ve known him. He always just says something that gets my goat, and then…” she faltered, “and then I do the same thing to him. I guess it’s my fault, too.”

The redhead blushed. “Maybe… you both need to work on it. I know the things you say to him sometimes… h-hurt him, and he… he doesn’t feel like he can… admit that, because it’s not… manly. But I’ve also seen some of the things he does to you, and…” she lost her voice for a moment, “and I think he’s just starting to realize how those make you feel.” She was quiet for a while. “Like insulting you, or your cooking, or… or refusing to take you seriously as a martial artist.”

Akane pondered that. “I don’t know. When he was so nice about the birthday cake I made, even though it turned out so awful, I… that made me feel really good. I wish he were like that all the time.” She sighed. “I know that in his heart he’s just as sweet and generous as you are, but he doesn’t ever let it show through the way you do. I wish he could; it’s like he keeps his heart behind barbed wire, and it takes a crisis to get it to come out.” The shorter girl winced. “It took me a year to figure that out. I’m beginning to think you’re right, that he’s very insecure about his manhood. Every time he’s about to open up, it’s like this ‘that’s not manly’ reflex kicks in, and before I know it we’re fighting again.” Her face was grim.

The other girl was silent for a while. “I… I… I think you might be right.” She averted her eyes. “Sometimes I think he needs to get away from this… image he has of what he’s supposed to be. I think that’s why he… why he uses his girl form so much.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He doesn’t want to be a girl, but sometimes I think he gets tired of being Saotome Ranma, man amongst men. Sometimes… he feels trapped by what his parents and everyone else expect him to be.” She paused for a long moment. “And sometimes, being a girl is the only way he knows how to do some things.”

Akane’s eyes were wide. “I wonder if that’s why he thought he was a girl when he hit his head that time? Maybe it was an escape. Did he tell you about that?”

The shorter girl shook her head. “I don’t think he knows himself why that happened. You… you might be right.”

Akane nodded slowly, then blinked. “He’s been telling you all this? He won’t ever tell me things like this!”

The redhead sagged a little. “I… I think he feels safe telling me things like this. We’re the same person, after all.” She smiled nervously.

Akane bit her lip, the tears welling up again. “We’re going to be married, and… and he doesn’t feel safe telling me what’s hurting him. How can we have a good marriage that way?”

The other girl shook Akane’s arm a little. “That’s why… why I think it’s important for… you guys to work on this. You have to learn to… to trust each other. You both need to… open up.”

“Yeah…” sighed Akane. “But where do we start?”

“A talk like this with him might be a good place.”

“With him?” Akane frowned, but it soon faded. “I don’t know… you do seem to be having a good influence on him. He seems to be trying now. Maybe… if we keep working on it…” she trailed off, lost in thought, her eyes unfocused.

Finally she sighed and offered a sad smile. “Maybe he’ll get there eventually.”

The redhead nodded. “I… I think he will. It may take him some time. It took… me a few months, and I’m a… a girl.”

Akane bit her lip. “I just wish it were sooner than months from now.” She looked the shorter girl in the eye. “Because even if he and I get to be just as open with each other as you and I are right now, I’m…” tears started to roll down her cheeks, “I’m still going to miss you.”

“Why, Sis?”

Akane shook her head slowly. “B-because I love you too, Ranko. In a different way than I love my Ranma, but I love you too, because you’re Ranma. Just because you’re so similar to my Ranma doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.” Her voice started to break. “And… and Auntie is about the only person I could turn to for comfort, and she won’t be able to help because… because she’s going to miss you too. And Ranma…” she started to cry in earnest, “Ranma will probably just make fun of me for missing you…”

The redhead looked on in frozen agony for a long time, seeming as if she had turned to stone. Akane, sniffling, finally asked, “Ranko? W-what’s wrong?”

The other girl seemed to want very badly to say something, but couldn’t seem to bring herself to say it. She alternated between looking Akane in the eye and opening her mouth as if to begin, and turning away, as if she were afraid of doing so. Akane shook her head slowly, confused.

After a few repetitions of this, the redhead looked down for a long moment, then looked up, and whispered “Akane?”

Akane grasped her hand. “What is it, Ranko? You can tell me. What’s bothering you so much?”

“Akane, I… I won’t make fun of you. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I swear it. I never meant to hurt you.”

Akane stared, bewildered. “I don’t understand…”

The shorter girl closed her eyes briefly, as if to gather her courage. “Akane, it’s… it’s me. R-ranma.”

Akane’s jaw fell open. “What are you saying? You can’t be…” she trailed off as the other girl fingered her earlobe, showing it off.

There was no hole in it. The skin was unbroken.

“Ranma?!” Rapidly growing anger clouded Akane’s face, like a swiftly gathering storm. “What… Just what are you trying to pull here? How dare you take advantage of me like this?!” She let go of Ranma’s hand, summoned her mallet and raised it high…

Ranma looked her square in the eye, pleading with her gaze. “Akane… please. Please, let’s talk. Please.”

Akane looked into those startling blue eyes, and somehow, though she knew it was Ranma, she couldn’t help feeling she was still looking at Ranko. She couldn’t understand why. Her anger fizzled, and her mallet with it.

She hunched her shoulders, and the tears came in torrents. “Why, Ranma?” she sobbed, “Why? How could you do this to me?!”

Ranma looked near tears herself. “Akane, I’ve wanted to talk to you this way for a long time, but we weren’t gettin’ anywhere. Ranko and me, we thought maybe if I pretended to be her, you and me could talk. Actually talk. That maybe you could see me as a… a friend, too.” She paused. “And… pretendin’ to be her made it a lot easier to… to say some’a the things I needed to say. Like I said, there’s some things I don’t know how to do any other way. It’s kinda dumb, but it’s true.” A deep crimson flush spread over her cheeks.

Akane was so shocked she stopped crying. “Ranko was in on this? Wait a minute, of course she was… if this is you, then… then that was her!”

Ranma nodded. “Yeah.” A determined look came over her face. “Akane, I don’t wanna haveta be a girl to be your friend, but… but if that’s what it takes, then I’ll be a girl sometimes, dammit. ’Cause I haveta be your friend.” Her gaze was earnest.

Akane’s eyebrows shot up. “You… you mean you really meant everything you said just now? It was all true? All the… all the things about how you felt?”

Ranma blushed again and nodded. “Yeah. All of it. Every word.”

Akane was crying tears of an entirely different kind now. “Oh, Ranma, you baka! Of course you don’t have to be a girl to be my friend!” She threw her arms around Ranma, who hugged her back fiercely. Again she had the odd feeling that this was still Ranko.

“Maybe I need to practice this way for a while. Like with the violin.” They both laughed.

Akane pulled back, and smiled at the petite redhead who was smiling nervously back at her. The eyes, she thought. The eyes, and that unsure little smile. They’re the same. Exactly the same.

Maybe the reason that she was still seeing this girl as Ranko was that in some important ways… that’s who she was.

A redheaded girl in Chinese clothing slipped into the dojo, and promptly sagged against the wall, closing her eyes. She put her hand to her mouth and took a deep breath, then let it out explosively. She hugged herself, and sighed, “Kami-sama, that was scary.”

“I thought Saotome Ranma wasn’t afraid of anything?”

The redhead shrieked and jumped a foot in the air. She turned around to find Nabiki eyeing her coolly.

“O… Nabiki! What’re you doin’ here?”

Nabiki smiled her cheetah-cornering-a-wildebeest smile. “Oh, just wondering what’s going on.”

The shorter girl smiled nervously. “What’s goin’ on? There’s nuthin’ goin’ on! Nuthin’ at all.”

Nabiki’s smile broadened. “Really? Then why did you have Ranko’s violin case, Ranma-kun?”

The other girl froze. “Heh. G-guess I just goofed. They look real similar, right?”

Nabiki nodded. “Of course.” She peered at the redhead’s face. “And when did you get your ears pierced? And grow bangs that need pinning back?”

The redhead sighed and slumped to a sitting position on the floor. “You always could see right through me, Oneechan.”

Nabiki joined Ranko on the floor. “You know, if I had any doubts that you were the same person as Ranma, this harebrained scheme was enough to erase them. That, and your performance. It was more than good enough for everyone else. You would have fooled me, too, if you hadn’t messed up on the violin cases.” She turned to look Ranko in the eye, but her look was not predatory; it was one of intense curiosity. “You really are him, aren’t you.” It was a rhetorical question, but Ranko nodded anyway, blushing and turning her gaze away from Nabiki.

“So what’s this all about? Why did you guys switch places?”

Ranko grew subdued. “It’s Akane. She’s so upset about me leaving, and she and Ranma have such a hard time getting along. We thought that if Ranma could show her that he can be her friend the way I am… that they would get along better, and she wouldn’t miss me so much. We didn’t think she’d give him a chance unless he could get past her defenses.” She looked back to Nabiki, and cringed slightly. “You think it’s a bad idea, don’t you?”

Nabiki grinned. “I didn’t say that. I just said it was harebrained. It just might work; it’s worth a shot, at least. The worst that’ll happen is she’ll brain him again.” Nabiki startled her by putting an arm around her and giving her a squeeze. “Thanks for trying to help the two of them. You’re a sweet kid.” Ranko blushed furiously.

They sat for a few minutes, then Nabiki stood up and offered her a hand. “Come on. You don’t have to hide out here in the dojo. Let’s go sit on the porch and enjoy the sunshine. I’ll run interference for you… Ranma-kun.”

The redhead took Nabiki’s hand and stood up. “Geez, Nabiki. What’s it gonna cost me this time?”

Nabiki threw her head back and laughed. “Touché.” They returned to the house, and passed through the family room, settling down comfortably on the porch.

Genma called from the shogi board, “I thought you were going to work out, Boy! Are you slacking off?”

Nabiki turned and gave Genma a frigid look. “He’s with me.”

Genma narrowed his eyes. “What’s this about?”

Nabiki smiled her best don’t-mess-with-me-little-boy smile. “5000 yen.”

Genma scowled, “Never mind.” He turned his attention back to the game.

For a time, they enjoyed the warm sunshine that fell gently from the cloudless sky, the songbirds serenading the yard with their welcome of the change of seasons, the slow activity of the koi in the pond.

Ranko wondered idly if the weather in her world was the same right now; she supposed she’d find out in an hour or two. Her mind drifted back to what was waiting for her there, and she felt a sharp pang of homesickness. She felt the urge to follow those simple instructions right now, and fought it down; she’d be leaving soon enough.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Nabiki turned to look up at the second story and remarked, “Well, ‘Ranko’ must be pulling it off. I don’t hear any sounds of violence.”

The girl in the Chinese clothes nodded. “Looks like all we haveta do is sit here and wait.”

Just then, a young man vaulted over the wall of the Tendou compound. He looked around, and his eyes fixed on Ranko, his face contorting in anger. “At last I’ve found you, Saotome! You’re going to pay for what you did to me!”

Ranko closed her eyes briefly. Obviously, Ranma still had a source of chaos in his life. She hoped fervently that none of it followed her home.

She stood up. “OK. Who’re you, and what’d I do?”

The man snarled. “I’m Nagahara Masao! Don’t pretend you don’t remember, you bastard! That day on the beach?” He took in the redhead’s totally bewildered look. “You don’t remember, do you, you scum! You flirted with me, you got me to take you for ice cream! Do you know how humiliated I was when I found out you were really a guy? My friends all laughed their asses off!” While he was talking, the rest of the family came out onto the porch to watch.

Ranko looked Nagahara over again; he appeared to be in his late twenties. She glared at him in a decidedly unmanly fashion, and her speech slipped. “And just what were you doing hitting on a high school girl at your age, if I might ask?” She was starting to think she approved of Ranma’s taking advantage of this jerk.

Nagahara—not to mention the parents and Kasumi—seemed taken aback by the flash of feminine anger. “That’s not important! What is important is that I’m going to make you pay for it.” He sneered. “I heard you were a martial artist. Well, I got news for you, buster! I’m a martial artist, too, and I challenge you!” He assumed a ready stance.

Ranko sighed; she couldn’t very well sully Ranma’s honor while playing his part. “I accept your challenge.” She assumed her own ready stance, and eyed the man’s sloppy posture; he was clearly a beginner. Good—she’d be able to defeat him without hurting him too much. “So how long have you been a martial artist, Nagahara-san?”

He started circling her slowly, in a comicly exaggerated way. “I’ve been studying for a whole year, so you’d better watch out!”

She raised an eyebrow as he nearly stumbled over a small rock. “That long, huh?”

He reddened. “Well, OK, it was part time. I was studying for my CPA exam, and that took a lot of time. But I passed that two months ago, and I’ve been spending a lot of time on martial arts since then!”

Ranko felt a buzzing sensation in her ears, and the world seemed to swim slightly around her. “What… what did you say?”

Masao smirked. “I said, now that I’m a full-fledged CPA I’ve been spending a lot more time on martial arts!” He was totally unprepared for what happened next.

Saotome Ranma, martial arts master, put her fists to her mouth and screamed like a woman.

Ha, thought Masao. He’s obviously not as tough as I heard. They never are.

Akane and Ranma were smiling at one another when a scream of pure terror came from outside. They let go of each other and stood up. The scream was followed shortly by shrieks of “watch out!” and “be careful!” and “don’t do that!” The voice was a familiar one: Ranma’s own.

Ranma’s eyes widened. “That’s Ranko! She’s in trouble!” She flashed to the window and was gone. Akane blinked, and ran for the stairs.

Ranma dashed across the roof, cursing the long, narrow denim skirt. How can she run in this damn thing? Guess she doesn’t have to…

She reached the edge facing the koi pond, and looked down to evaluate the situation. There was a young man—who looked somewhat familiar—chasing Ranko around the yard, while the family looked on, stupefied. He was attacking her with the moves of a clumsy beginner, and every time he threatened to stumble or overextend himself and pull a muscle Ranko would shriek another warning.

Ranma had no idea what was going on, but she leapt down, tucking her legs slightly to keep her skirt from turning into a parachute. She had a moment to reflect sadly that not too many guys knew how to jump off a roof wearing a skirt.

She landed in between Ranko and the intruder, who skidded to a halt, his jaw falling open. Akane arrived on the porch a moment later.

Ranma spoke over her shoulder without turning around. “Why didn’t you just take care of this bozo yourself? You could do it blindfolded with one hand tied behind your back!” The man scowled.

Ranko clutched at Ranma’s shoulders and peeked over them from behind. “But he’s a CPA!” she wailed; tears started to trickle down her cheeks.

Ranma tried to process that and failed. “So?”

“It was on the form! If I injure him in any way, I’ll be… I’ll be erased! I’ll have never even been born!”

The truth of the situation finally sank in for the rest of the family. “Ranko?” gasped Nodoka, speaking for everyone. “Ranma?”

The intruder didn’t like being ignored. “Get out of my way! This is a fight between me and that lousy coward Ranma. I guess you must be his sister or something, but this is none of your business!”

Ranma stepped forward, her fists balled. “Who’re you callin’ a coward, jackass? I’m Ranma. She’s Ranko! What the hell are you lookin’ for me for, anyway?”

The man boggled, then resumed glaring. “Nagahara Masao. The beach. That triple hot fudge sundae.”

Ranma furrowed her brow, then broke into a smile. “Oh yeah. Thanks. It was yummy.” She patted her stomach and batted her eyelashes coyly.

Nagahara snarled and charged, and suddenly found himself lying on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Ranma’s petite foot was planted on his chest. How had that happened? He hadn’t even seen her move!

“Look, bozo, you were hittin’ on me, even though you’re ten years older. You offered to buy me ice cream. All I did was say ‘yes.’ And now you’re goin’ around attackin’ innocent people.” Ranma increased the pressure of her foot on the man’s chest. “People who can’t fight back.”

Akane hurried over to embrace Ranko, who was still trembling from fear of what might have happened. Suppose Nagahara hadn’t mentioned his profession? She felt faint.

Ranma noticed that Nagahara was staring up at her in a peculiar way, but she couldn’t figure out why. He nodded curtly. “All right. I yield.” Ranma stepped back, and Nagahara got to his feet. He turned to Ranko and bowed slightly. “I’m sorry, Miss. You look just like your sister.” He turned to Ranma. “And my asshole friends told me you were a guy. That’s why I got mad. I’m really sorry, I guess they were pulling my chain.”

Ranma growled again. “I am a guy!”

Masao frowned, confused. “Really? I mean, I heard about the curse, so I can understand the swimsuit at the beach. But if you’re a guy, why are you wearing a skirt now? Not to mention pink striped panties…”

A moment later, he was a dwindling dot in the azure spring sky, Ranma’s and Akane’s fists raised in salute to his departure. Ranko blushed scarlet; it was her underwear Nagahara had been peeping at, even if Ranma was wearing it at the moment. She shivered and relaxed a bit. “Thanks, guys.” She managed a nervous smile. “I would have done that myself if I could.” They all started to laugh.

Nodoka marched over, and the laughter died. “Ranma.” Her tone was stern.

Ranma felt her blood turn to liquid nitrogen. “Y-yeah, Mom?”

“I want to see you and Ranko in the dojo. Now. I’d like both of you to explain why my manly son is wearing… pink striped panties.”

Chapter Text

Nodoka closed her eyes and sighed. “Ranma.”

Ranma looked up at his mother tentatively. “Yeah, Mom?” He and Ranko were kneeling in the dojo, facing their mother with an air of subdued contrition. They’d swapped clothes again, and Ranma had availed himself of some hot water afterwards.

“Your hair…” She gestured faintly with one hand.

Ranma looked confused. “My hair?…” He reached up to feel it, and blushed. “Oops.” He removed the hair ornament and handed it to Ranko, then set about rebraiding his pigtail. Ranko bit her lip and started undoing hers, the hair ornament waiting in her lap. They were both done in a minute.

Nodoka sighed once more and looked between the two of them. “Whose idea was this?”

Ranma and Ranko looked sheepishly at each other. “We kinda thought it up together, Mom.”

“And what was the purpose?”

The two of them exchanged glances again. Ranko answered hesitantly, “Well… we wanted to help Akane feel like Ranma could be her friend, not just her fiancé. So they would get along better, and so… and so she wouldn’t miss me quite as much.” Ranko’s face tightened; the fact that she would be seeing her own Akane very soon didn’t make her feel any less guilty about leaving this one behind. Not to mention her mother.

Nodoka nodded, though she still looked confused. “And?…”

Ranma smiled faintly. “I think it mighta worked. We talked. Actually talked. We ain’t never done that before. She nearly flattened me when she found out it was me, but she was happy I wanted to try bein’ more like friends.” His smile broadened slightly. “I hope we can be.”

Nodoka smiled. “I’m glad for that Dear; it’s long overdue. But why did you need to be a girl?”

“Well… Akane and me, we kinda fight outta habit, Mom. Since she thought I was Ranko, she didn’t wanna fight, and I was too nervous she was gonna find out and kill me.”

Nodoka tilted her head. “You’re sure there isn’t anything else?” Her look said she knew there was.

Ranko and Ranma exchanged guilty glances. Ranma stared at the floor for a minute, then mumbled something.

“What was that, Dear? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said, it’s… it’s… it’s easier for me to do stuff like that as a girl.”

Nodoka sighed. “I was afraid that might be the case. Ranma, that isn’t very manly. I’m not happy about you learning the violin as a girl, either. Do you like being a girl?” She unconsciously fiddled with her katana.

Ranma swallowed, and fears he had thought laid to rest resurfaced. “N-no! No way!”

She seemed to read his mind. “Dear, your father’s promise was to raise you to be manly. He did—though more by luck than anything else, it seems. Seppuku was his idea, not mine. I only wanted to see that honor was satisfied. It has been.” Ranma sagged in relief.

“However,” Ranma looked up, “I’m concerned about the influence your curse seems to be having on you. You seem to spend more time in your girl form than water accidents can account for. Do you want to become a girl for real, the way Ranko did?”

Ranma looked down, abashed. “N-no, Mom.”

“Then you should behave in a more manly fashion.”

Ranko was shaking her head. “Mother… I… I don’t understand. Do you think Ranma is dishonorable, or a coward?”

Nodoka was taken aback. “No, of course not! He’s very honorable and brave. More than any mother could hope for.”

“Then if he finds his girl form useful, what’s wrong with that? It sounds like it really helped him and Akane.”

Nodoka shook her head. “I’m sorry. He’s a man. He shouldn’t be doing things like that. It is simply not appropriate.”

“Why not? If it helps him, what’s wrong with it?”

“Because it isn’t right. I understand what you are saying, Dear, but I cannot accept it. It is a matter of how I was raised. And how I wish to raise my children.”

Ranma wasn’t sure if his mother realized that she’d said “children,” but Ranko certainly didn’t miss it. Her eyes flashed, and there was steel in both their gazes to rival Nodoka’s blade. Ranma swallowed nervously; he had the uncanny feeling that this family discussion was turning into a duel of some kind. That, or World War III. If he’d had any doubts that Ranko was a woman, the way she and his mother coolly regarded one another erased them.

“Do you know what my mother told me when she found out I was living as a boy?”

Nodoka blinked. It had slipped her mind that it was another version of herself who was Ranko’s mother. “I imagine I wasn’t happy about it.”

Ranko nodded. “You weren’t. It hurt you terribly. I wouldn’t even believe you were my mother to start with; I just couldn’t accept that I was a girl. I rejected you, and I clung to being Ranma—not because I wanted to, but because I was too afraid and ashamed to consider anything else. I hurt you, and I still feel guilty about that.

“But you told me that if I needed to stay a boy, if that was what would make me happy, then you’d accept that. I could tell you hated the idea, but you never tried to push me.” She shook her head. “Mother, Ranma isn’t going to turn into a girl. I don’t think being one particularly makes him happy. But if his girl form helps him through some problems…”

Nodoka shook her head. “I don’t know why I feel differently in your world, but I cannot change my opinion on this matter. Ranma must be a man.”

“But he is a man. It’s so obvious! So what does it matter if he uses his curse instead of just suffering from it? I couldn’t stand being a boy any more because I’d been stuck as one for twelve years, but if Ranma can stomach being a girl sometimes, I say more power to him…”

“It is not appropriate. Men should be manly.”

Ranko leaned forward, intent, both hands on her legs. “If he weren’t under so much pressure to be manly, if he didn’t feel like he had to prove himself constantly, he wouldn’t feel he needed to be a girl in order to express his feelings or be friends with his fiancée!”

Ranma tried to make himself as small as possible. He had been right; it was World War III, and he didn’t think there was a fallout shelter nearby.

Nodoka drew herself up. “It is not appropriate. Do I need to keep repeating myself?” She felt herself losing her temper, something she hadn’t done in years. “Neither is your own behavior.”

Ranko flinched as if she’d been struck. She stared at Nodoka, shocked, and tears started to gather in her eyes. “My… behavior?”

Nodoka’s heart tried to tell her to stop, but the heavy weight of her traditional background overruled it. “Men and women have different roles in life. You need to understand that. Even though some women have careers nowadays, you should not be asking your husband-to-be to perform women’s work such as caring for children or making a home. You are a woman. Your own career should come behind that of your husband, and your role as a wife and mother.”

Ranko’s jaw hung open as she stared at this woman who wore her mother’s face. How could this possibly be the same woman who had encouraged her to explore her talents? Who had praised Ryouga for his modern attitudes about raising a family (and had told Akane not to settle for less when she made her own choice)? Who had admired Nabiki for her sharp mind and business acumen?

She tried to speak, but had trouble finding the words. What could she possibly say in the face of such a gap in attitudes? She considered just giving up—she was about to go home, after all—but thought about what would happen to Ranma if she did. And to Akane. She knew her sister was deeply passionate about the theater. What would this version of her mother think of that once Akane was her daughter-in-law? She had to try one more time.

“Mother… I… I know that is the traditional Japanese view, but… but I don’t think it’s fair to either women or men. Why shouldn’t women have careers if they want? And why shouldn’t men help raise their own children or run the household? Why does it have to be women’s work and men’s work? Why do we all have to wear straitjackets? Just because it’s traditional? Ranma’s straitjacket is strangling him!” Her jaw was set, and her knuckles were white with frustration.

Nodoka raised her voice. “Young lady, that is quite enough! You are forgetting yourself!”

Ranko jerked her head away, averting her gaze for what seemed like an eternity. She didn’t speak for a full minute.

When she finally looked back, she seemed to have regained her composure. “I see.” She bowed her head deeply and politely. “I must apologize, Saotome-sama.” Nodoka gasped at the cold form of address and formal language. “I am afraid I cannot agree with your views, but it was inexcusably rude of me to have been so outspoken with my own.” She rose smoothly. “If you will excuse me, I should collect my belongings and return to my own family.” She turned to leave.

Ranma looked back and forth between the two women, wanting to do something to stop this but not having any idea what. Tears started to spill down his mother’s cheeks as they both watched Ranko walk to the door and put out her hand to open it…

…And pause. She just stood there, her hand on the door, as Ranma and his mother wondered why. Then she seemed to sag, as if she were growing old beyond her years in the span of a few seconds. After a moment more she turned around, and there were tears running down her own face, and her shoulders were shaking.

Mother and not-quite-daughter gazed at each other for an agonizing instant before they surged into each other’s embrace, both of them sobbing and whispering “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” over and over again.

Ranma just sat there with his jaw hanging open. If I live to be as old as the mummy, I’m never gonna understand women…

After a time, they pulled apart, still in each other’s arms. Nodoka dabbed at her eyes. “So this is what it’s like to have a daughter, is it?” She laughed. “Obviously having a son has not prepared me for it.”

Ranko shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mother. It isn’t my place to tell you how to run your family. I’m just so worried about Ranma, and… and Akane.”

Nodoka rubbed the back of her finger along Ranko’s cheek to dry her tears. “I know, Dear. I finally realized that. You reminded me—rather forcefully—that you weren’t making these arguments just to be rebellious.”

“I didn’t mean to be so cold…”

Nodoka kissed Ranko’s forehead and pulled her into another embrace. “I know.” She sighed. “You’re very much like I was at your age. As fiery as our red hair.” She sobered. “I assume that in your world, I agree with your views?” Ranko nodded. “Then I, too, have been presumptious. I must apologize as well. I must respect your mother’s decisions on how to raise you.” She smiled again. “Especially since she is me.”

Ranko nodded tentatively. “Mother?”

“Yes?”

“Please… think about what I’ve said. I know you don’t agree with me, but…”

“But you never give up, do you?” Ranko blushed, and Nodoka looked to Ranma, who was watching all this with wide eyes. “Just like my son.” Ranma blushed as well.

Ranko opened her mouth to plead again, but was disarmed by the look of patient amusement on her mother’s face, and closed it again. Her mother was still… her mother.

“And he is my son, Dear. I have his welfare at heart, always. Please do not go home with this weighing on your mind.”

“But…”

Nodoka put a finger to Ranko’s lips to shush her. “I know. Dear, I am only 37, and my ears still work just fine. I have heard everything you had to say, and I will try to understand what Ranma is going through.” Ranma paled slightly.

Ranko flushed again. “I’m sorry, Mother. Thank you.”

Nodoka gently gathered the diminutive redhead into her embrace again. “Don’t be sorry, Dear. If…” her voice broke, “if I had a daughter, I would want her to be just like you. I’m very proud of you, every bit as proud as I am of Ranma.”

“Mother… I love you.”

“I know, Dear. I love you, too.”

The family looked up as Ranko and Akane descended the stairs from the second floor, holding hands tightly. Akane had wanted a proper private goodbye after Ranma had hijacked her earlier attempt. Both girls’ eyes looked more than a little red.

Ranko sighed. “I guess I’d better collect everything.”

Nabiki gestured towards the dining table, where the large envelope Ranko had received from the Bureau of Mortal Affairs lay. “Don’t forget that stuff. Have you made your wish yet?”

Ranko shook her head. “Not yet.” She had been thinking of taking the coupon home with her, but was starting to worry that it might get lost or disappear. “I think I’ll do that right now. I don’t want to take a chance on losing the coupon on the way.” She went to the dining table, and pulled the coupon out of the envelope, laying it in front of her.

Kasumi ducked into the kitchen, and reappeared with a cup of tea and a pen, both of which she set in front of Ranko. “The instructions did say to sip a nice cup of tea and think about it carefully.”

Ranko and Kasumi shared a smile. “Thank you, Oneechan.” Ranko took a big sip from the cup, and knit her brow.

“Of course you’ll cure your family members of their curses, won’t you, child?” asked Genma. Ranma nodded eagerly as well. As useful as the curse was, he’d gladly be rid of it.

“That’s just one of the things I’m thinking about, Father.” She resumed her deliberations. There were so many things she could do with this. She could wish for happiness for Ranma and Akane, but she had the feeling that would happen anyway. She could wish to cure the Jusenkyou curses, both here and at home, and that was definitely worthy of consideration. She remembered how much she’d disliked hers. Never knowing when you were going to be hit with water, and transformed against your will…

On the other hand, there were many people around the world who suffered far more than Jusenkyou victims, who lived in misery, who lost their lives. Perhaps she should wish for world peace, or a cure for the ills of Mankind. However, she knew that hers was not the only wish that had ever been granted, and she knew she was not the only person who would consider such a wish. Why had none of these worthy goals ever come to pass?

She knew from painful experience that wishes often had unintended consequences. Perhaps such wishes had been made before, and not had the intended effect. Something affecting all of humanity was simply too dangerous; she did not feel she had the wisdom to make such a wish.

She looked around at the faces of her family; all were looking at her with anxious anticipation, wondering what her wish would be. All… except her mother and Akane, who were gazing at her with sad longing, as if to try to glean every last memory of her that time would allow them.

Suddenly, it came to her what she should do. She opened the pen, set it to the paper… then hesitated. Following the form’s advice, she took another sip of tea, and tried to think things through one more time. She tilted her head one way and then the other, then her eyes widened, and she nodded. She wrote a few brief lines, and signed the coupon. The moment she lifted her pen from the paper, it vanished in a shower of sparkling lights.

“Well?” asked Genma. “What did you wish for?”

Ranko stood up, smiling, and shook her head. “It’s a surprise.” Genma dashed out the porch and jumped into the pond—and promptly turned into a panda. It growfed its disappointment, and shuffled into the kitchen in search of a kettle. Ranma lowered his head, and sighed.

Nodoka asked, “But if you leave without telling us, Dear, how will we ever know what it is?”

Ranko smiled at her mother. “If it comes true, then… I think you’ll find out.” Her mother nodded uncertainly.

Ranko lifted the heavy envelope and headed towards the genkan, the family following her. As they passed the stairs, Akane’s eyes widened. “Wait just a minute.” She dashed upstairs. Ranko’s eyes followed her up, puzzled.

She returned a minute later with the dress Ranko had worn on her birthday, which she held out. “Here. It will never get worn again if it stays here. Take it with you, and wear it on your birthdays if nothing else.”

Ranko gasped. “I couldn’t! It’s so expensive…”

Akane smiled and shook her head. “I bought it for you. I bought it for you, because… I bought it for a female Ranma, and… and that’s who you are.” She held it out again. “Please. I want you to have it.”

Ranko nodded, her eyes growing wet again. “Thank you, Sis.”

“Here, Ranko-chan, let me give you a bag for that. You’ll have too much to carry otherwise.” Kasumi took the dress, folded it neatly, and placed it in a worn canvas shopping bag from the drawer she kept them in. Akane took the matching white heels from the shoe rack, and placed them in the bag as well. Ranko put in the envelope with her forms, and her portfolio; the bag was pretty full.

Nabiki held out an envelope to Ranko. “I have some photos from your birthday with Ranma yesterday. Something to remember your visit by.” Ranko reached for the envelope, and Nabiki jerked her hand back. “3000 yen.”

Ranko’s jaw dropped open. Nabiki laughed, and handed her the envelope. “You’re so gullible.” Ranko blushed and put the envelope in her purse. She stepped out of her house slippers into the genkan, putting on the loafers she had worn when she arrived. She put on her long navy coat and her beret. She stood before them, dressed for a journey.

She and Akane looked at each other for a long, painful moment, and Ranko thought of the expensive dress in her bag. She suddenly set down the bag and the violin case, and reached to the back of her neck, where her heart pendant necklace was clasped. She started to undo it…

“No!” commanded Akane. Ranko stopped, confused. “I’m betting that was a gift from me to you, right?” Ranko nodded wordlessly. “Then I can’t take it.”

Ranko bit her lip, then held up the pendant and opened it. She fiddled with it briefly, and the tiny photograph inside slid out. She held it out to Akane. “Here. Mother has the negative. I can get another print.”

Akane took the tiny heart-shaped photograph of two little girls with their cheeks pressed together, and tears began to stream down her face. “Th-thank you. This is worth far more to me than the jewelry.”

Ranko nodded, her own face screwed up in pain. How could leaving home hurt so much when she was leaving home to go home?

Nodoka, ever the mother, asked, “Now, do you have everything?”

“I think so…”

“Your violin?”

“Yes.” She picked up the case. “I double-checked; this one’s mine.” It certainly wouldn’t do to leave her Lott “del Gesù” behind by accident and take Ranma’s rental home instead.

“Let’s see… I saw the portfolio go in the bag, and you have your purse.” She peered at the redhead’s ears. “You’re wearing the same earrings… I think that’s everything.”

No one had anything else to add; the moment had arrived. Ranko looked around once more. “G-goodbye, everyone. Thank you for everything.” She turned to Ranma. “Ranma, please take good care of my sister for me.”

Ranma nodded. “I will. I promise.” He put an arm around Akane, and for once she didn’t object.

Ranko looked back to Akane, but it was clear that the other girl couldn’t speak any more; neither could Nodoka. She looked around at each and every face one more time, pausing to exchange a wordless message with each of them; tears were leaving shiny tracks down her face by the time she was done.

She clutched her parcels tightly, and took a deep breath. “There’s no place like home.” She clicked her heels together three times.

Nothing happened.

Ranko’s jaw fell open. “Now what?”

Nabiki frowned. “You did follow the instructions, right?”

“Of course, Oneechan! I have seen the Wizard of Oz, after all…” She frowned. “Maybe I di” she began, and in mid-syllable, simply vanished. There was no flash of light, no sound, not even a gentle breeze to mark her departure. One moment she was there, and the next she was not, as if someone had pulled a plug. There was a kind of negative afterimage where she had stood, but within a second that faded away to nothing. Nabiki shivered; it was a disquieting image.

Nodoka, utterly overcome by the strain of holding them back for so long, burst into tears. Genma, shocked, went to comfort his wife.

And Akane whispered “Goodbye… Sis,” buried her face in Ranma’s shoulder, and began to sob as well.

Ranko felt like she was in the Wizard of Oz. The part where the house was picked up by a tornado.

This was far rougher than her first ride had been, and she held onto her belongings with all her formidable strength. Please let me not lose Senpai’s 6 million yen violin…

There was nothing to see, just a formless, blinding whiteness. Suddenly, her left foot struck something solid, and her body pivoted around violently. She did not have a hand free to brace herself; her head slammed into something, and the whiteness faded to black.

Akane sat on the porch, staring at nothing in particular. It was another gorgeous spring day. The koi were getting quite active now, leaping out of the water from time to time. The birds were in a frenzy of activity, either building their nests or gathering food for their young; their tireless chatter filled the air. The fat buds on the lone cherry tree in the Tendou yard looked ready to burst. An occasional fluffy white cloud drifted by, a calm accent against the deep blue of the sky.

Akane wished they would all just go to hell.

She’s not dead, Akane told herself. Somewhere, in another world I can’t see or touch, she’s with her family. With the man she loves. With me, with all of us. She’s home, where she belongs, and she’s happy. And I have my own Ranma, and he’s her and she’s him.

So why does it hurt so damn much?

She knew the answer: losing Ranma, any Ranma, was almost more than she could bear, and she hoped to Kami-sama that it never, ever happened again. Not till she and he were old… old and gray. And she sure as hell planned for both of them to give Cologne a run for her money.

Ranma appeared at her side. “Mom’s restin’ upstairs.” Akane nodded quietly. He sat down beside her. “How’re you doin’?”

Akane sighed. “Lousy.”

Ranma didn’t respond, and after a moment Akane turned to look at him. He was gazing at her, with a serious expression she rarely saw when he wasn’t in the midst of a battle. “Ranma?”

“You really miss her a lot, don’tcha?”

Akane nodded. “Yes.” Ranma looked sad, and a horrible thought occurred to Akane. “Ranma… you’re not jealous, are you? I would miss you just as much. That’s why this hurts so much; it’s like losing you.”

Ranma blinked in surprise. “Of course I ain’t jealous, Akane. I’m just sorry for ya. I wish there was somethin’ I could do.”

She stared at him, her eyes scanning his face intently, as if she were looking for something. After a moment, his eyes widened as he realized what it was. “Akane?”

She started, and dropped her eyes, embarrassed. “What?”

“Would it help if I went and jumped in the pond?”

She blushed scarlet. “Probably… but I don’t want to do that to you, and… and I don’t want to do it to me, either. I don’t want to use that as a crutch if I can avoid it.” She looked up at Ranma again, her blush still tingeing her cheeks pink. “I don’t need you to be a girl to see her in you. The main reason I love her is because she is you.”

Ranma blushed himself, and for a while neither of them said anything. They were both more than a little dazed at how much they had opened up to each other over the last three days.

“But… Ranma?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, Kami-sama, I feel so bad asking this. Ranma… if… if you find a cure soon… could you… could you maybe wait a year or two before you use it? If that’s possible? I’m not ready to say goodbye to that face f-forever yet. I need a little time to mourn, still.” She blushed again. “I’m sorry, that’s a horrible thing to ask of you. I know how much you hate the curse.”

Ranma looked thoughtful for a few moments. “It’s OK, Akane. I understand. Sure.”

Akane’s mouth fell open. “Wh-what? ‘Sure’? No argument? No fight?”

“Akane, I told ya. I don’t wanna hurt you anymore. I only used to do it ’cause I didn’t understand what I was doin’.” He sighed. “And I guess… I got used to this curse. It ain’t horrible anymore, just… a pain.” He grimaced. “’Specially since Mom ain’t too fond of it.”

“I’m sorry, Ranma…”

“Don’t worry ’bout it.” He grinned. “I bet you wouldn’t cry if I never got cured, huh?”

Akane snorted, embarrassed. “Maybe not.”

“Always knew you liked me better as a girl.” She jerked her head up to look at him, but he was still grinning; he was teasing her. She stuck out her tongue, and he laughed. “That’s better.”

They both looked out into the yard. After a minute, Ranma’s voice came, quiet and serious. “I kinda wish I’d been a guy when we met, though. We sure started off on the wrong foot.”

Akane turned to look at him; he had an almost wistful look on his face. She studied him for a few moments, and an idea came to her. An idea that should have come to her a long time ago.

She cleared her throat and smiled at him. “Hi, I’m Akane,” she said. “Would you like to be friends?”

Ranma’s brow furrowed in confusion; then his jaw dropped. He stared at her, open-mouthed, until slowly, his surprise changed into a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” They smiled at each other.

A mischievous element crept into Ranma’s smile. “You practice kenpo, right?”

Akane’s eyes widened. “A little.”

“Later on, when you’re feelin’ better, how’s about I show you the dojo, and we can have a little match. I promise I won’t hurt ya.” His smile widened. “Much.”

They both laughed, and Akane suddenly felt better. She turned her gaze back to the koi pond, and found she didn’t feel quite so much like filling it in with cement as she had a few minutes ago. Meeting and then losing Ranko would hurt for a long, long time… but she was glad it had happened.

Nabiki hesitated a long moment, then slid open the desk drawer where she filed her photographs. She knew the one she was looking for, but she didn’t particularly want to find it.

She forced herself to leaf through the larger prints, until her finger came lightly to rest on the edge of one of them. Gently, she lifted it from the drawer, and held it up. A petite redhead smiled back at her, cradling a violin.

Last month, Professor Murata had asked Ranko to bring him a professional portrait, to be used in the programs that were printed up for the Music department’s recitals. Rather than go to a commercial photographer, Ranko had asked Nabiki to do it, explaining that she was more comfortable being photographed by her big sister, and besides… she was used to it. Nabiki held the result in her hand, and smiled at the memory.

She slid her drawer closed, then gazed at the photograph for a minute longer, a sober expression on her face. Reluctantly, she rose and headed downstairs, holding the photograph to her chest with both hands.

Kasumi was waiting for her in the family room, an empty picture frame in one hand. Nabiki stopped and closed her eyes, clutching the photograph a little more tightly. “It’s too soon, Oneechan.” She opened her eyes; they glistened. “It’s only been three days.”

“Nabiki,” said Kasumi gently, “we’re not giving her up for dead. The police told us cases like this can take months, and they find missing people alive all the time. We’re just saying that she is in our thoughts and prayers.”

“I know,” whispered Nabiki. “But… if we put her up there… next to… to M-mom…”

Kasumi smiled. “Mother will watch over her, wherever she is.” She held out her hand, and Nabiki reluctantly handed over the photograph. Kasumi slid it into the frame, and turned it over; they both examined the portrait. “It’s a beautiful picture, Nabiki. You really captured her personality.” They both sighed.

Kasumi walked slowly to the butsudan, the family shrine, and reverently placed the portrait on the shelf, next to one of a smiling young woman with black hair. She stepped back, and they clapped their hands twice and bowed their heads. Kasumi whispered “Please, Mother… please bring her back to us, if you can. And if you can’t…” she paused for a long, long time, and when she resumed, her voice was unsteady and heavy with emotion, “And if you can’t… then please take care of her for us.”

They looked up, and Nabiki gazed at the portrait of her mother. She had been a little girl when her mother had died, and she remembered this photograph more than its subject; it had been the photograph which had watched her grow up. Mom was so young, thought Nabiki. Not that much older than… she didn’t want to complete the thought.

Nabiki gazed quietly at both portraits for a while. “Oneechan?”

“Mmm?”

“You know the police aren’t going to find her. She’s not a missing person—she vanished, into thin air. In front of eyewitnesses.”

“I know, Nabiki. That’s why doing this was so important.”

Nabiki sighed a long, tired sigh; she knew Kasumi was right. She stared at the floor.

Kasumi eyed her carefully. “Nabiki, Dear, why don’t you go out and do something? The weather is beautiful. It will get your mind off it a little.”

Nabiki nodded slowly. Akane and Auntie Saotome had gone with Ryouga to the park, just to get out of the house. And the fathers… they’d gone out the previous night to get drunk, and must have succeeded; they weren’t back yet. She looked up at Kasumi. “How can you be so calm about this, Oneechan?”

A dark cloud passed over Kasumi’s face, hinting at far more. She said simply, “I can’t afford not to be.” After a moment, the clouds passed. “Are you going to go out?”

Nabiki’s eyes strayed to the shrine. “In a little while…”

Kasumi followed her gaze. “I understand. I’m going to go start dinner. If you want company, please come into the kitchen, all right?” Nabiki nodded.

Kasumi went into the kitchen, and Nabiki sat at the dining table, planted both elbows on it, and alternated between gazing at the portraits on the shrine, and looking out the porch towards the koi pond.

She was startled out of her reverie by a loud thud from the direction of the genkan. Kasumi called from the kitchen, “Oh, that umbrella stand has fallen over again. I really need to take it to be repaired. Nabiki, would you mind righting it? You have to fiddle with its feet a bit to get it to stay up.”

Nabiki called, “Sure, Oneechan.” She took another look at Ranko’s portrait, then rose and headed down the hall.

Kasumi was peeling vegetables when she heard a loud scream from the genkan: “Oneechan!!”

It had been many, many years since Kasumi had seriously practiced the Art, but somehow she found herself in the genkan faster than she would have thought possible. Nabiki was kneeling over a body which lay sprawled across the floor, items strewn around it. Kasumi caught sight of a familiar beret and a shock of red hair, and shrieked herself: “Ranko?!” Her heart hammered in her chest. “Is she… is she…”

Nabiki shook her head. “She’s just unconscious.” She tugged at the prone form. “Oneechan, help me out here…”

Kasumi sagged in relief, and joined Nabiki on the floor. “Just a moment, before we try to move her…” She called on her limited medical knowledge, and ran her hands lightly over Ranko’s neck and limbs. Good; nothing was broken. Her fingers found a large, growing lump on the redhead’s skull. “She must have hit her head. I think she’ll be out for at least an hour. If it were anyone else, I’d have said two.”

The two of them easily lifted the diminutive girl. Kasumi looked over the items scattered around the genkan: one of her own canvas shopping bags, Ranko’s violin case and purse. She’d have to come back and clean up; right now, her hands were full.

They carried Ranko into the family room, and Kasumi ran off to fetch a futon. When she returned, she found Nabiki taking Ranko’s portrait off the shelf on the butsudan, and she smiled. “You see? We shouldn’t have waited so long to ask Mother for help.”

Nabiki laughed, and tears started to leak from the corners of her eyes, tears of relief. They both paused a moment to turn towards the shrine, bowing their heads in silent thanks.

They removed Ranko’s coat and shoes, and pulled her onto the futon. Kasumi went into the kitchen and came back with a cold, wet cloth, which she placed on the lump on Ranko’s head.

She rose, and picked up the discarded outdoor clothing. She had been about to tell Nabiki to stay by Ranko’s side, but it was clear she didn’t need to: Nabiki was kneeling next to the futon and hovering over their younger sister. Kasumi smiled; ever since Ranko had become herself again, Nabiki had been showing more of her nurturing side.

She went back to the genkan, hung up the coat, and put the shoes back in the rack. She picked up the beret, dusted it off, and put it up on the shelf. She took a moment to run her gaze over the items, and smiled. There, she thought, everything is back… exactly where it belongs.

She stooped to pick up the other things, slinging the purse over her own shoulder. She hefted the canvas bag. Oh my, what does she have in here? It weighs a ton! She frowned. That’s odd… I don’t remember this bag being missing. She went to her bag drawer…

Nabiki was busy dabbing her eyes with a tissue when a quiet voice came. “Nabiki?”

She looked up; Kasumi was standing there, loaded down. “Do you need a hand, Oneechan?”

Kasumi shook her head. “Look at this.” She put the purse and violin case in a corner, out of the way, and brought the canvas bag over to the table. She set it down.

“It’s just one of your shopping bags, right? Didn’t she take it with her when she left?”

Kasumi shook her head again. Wordlessly, she reached out her other hand, and put another canvas bag on the table, this one empty. Nabiki took a closer look, and her eyes bugged out.

The bags were nearly identical. Every scuff, every stain, every threadbare spot matched. There were a few minor differences, but it was obvious that they were the same bag. There were just… two of it.

“Why doesn’t that old lady ever watch where she’s tossing the water?”

Nodoka and Akane smiled at Ryouga as she squeezed out the soggy parts of her shirt. The three were on their way home from the park, and Ryouga had just experienced firsthand the woman’s uncanny aim. “Maybe she does it on purpose!” teased Akane.

Ryouga snorted. “Maybe. I think she has radar for Jusenkyou victims.” She continued to wring out various portions of her clothing.

Nodoka cleared her throat. “Ryouga-kun. Your shirt is sticking to your… ummm…”

Ryouga looked down. “Oops.” She pulled the front of her shirt away from her chest, and squeezed it out, too. “Thanks, Mom.”

Akane laughed. “I think you may be right about the ladle lady. She always used to nail Ranko when she was Ranma. She never saw it coming, either.” Abruptly the smiles on their faces died, and the jocular mood evaporated. Nodoka’s face was ashen.

“I’m sorry, Auntie,” whispered Akane. “I just can’t seem to stop thinking about her.”

“It’s all right, Dear,” sighed Nodoka. “None of us can.”

They were silent for several blocks, each lost in thought. At first they’d thought it was a magical kidnapping of some kind, the sort of crazy thing that had plagued Ranko before Happousai’s spell was neutralized. But as one day, then another, then a third had passed with no ransom demands, no ultimatums, no word of any kind, they had tried hard to edge away from a conclusion none of them wanted to reach: that something had wanted Ranko dead, and had reached out to swat her like an insect. Had Ranko gone somewhere, or was she… gone?

Ryouga glanced at her two companions, and addressed what was being left unsaid. “Mom, Akane-san… you have to have faith in her. She’s the most resourceful, adaptable person I know. If anyone can come back from what’s happened to her, she can.”

There was a grim look in Nodoka’s eyes, as if they were seeing something truly awful. “I know, Dear. It’s that ‘if’ that concerns me.”

No one had a response to that.

They turned in the gate of the Tendou home, and Akane morosely eyed the front door as they walked up. The park had been a diversion for a couple of hours, but nothing had changed, really. Behind that door, in every room of that house, lurked memories, waiting to remind her of what she had lost. Visions of a long, quiet evening of dull pain hovered in front of her, and she sighed. She slid the door open, and they all called out “Tadaima!”

Kasumi and Nabiki called “O-kaeri!” in return. Kasumi added, “Auntie, Akane, Ryouga-kun, come quickly!”

Akane blinked at that; her two older sisters sounded… excited? She went to take off her shoes, and stopped cold.

“Auntie… Ryouga…” She seemed quite agitated.

“What, Dear?”

“Look.” whispered Akane, and pointed. They all turned their eyes to the hat shelf, where a familiar beret sat.

They practically fell over themselves in their hurry to take off their outdoor clothes. They rushed down the hall to the family room, intent on questioning the elder Tendou sisters.

They didn’t need to. The slight girl who had occupied most of their thoughts for the last three days lay on a futon, a light blanket covering her and a wet cloth on her head.

Nodoka whispered “R-ranko?!” She took a step towards the futon, then paused and turned to Kasumi. “Is she… is she all right?” Kasumi, who was seated with Nabiki at the table, where they appeared to be going through some documents, smiled warmly and nodded.

Nodoka needed no further permission. “Ranko!” she cried, Akane echoing her. In the space of a moment, Ranko’s head was cradled in Nodoka’s lap; she held the unconscious girl gently, tears running down her cheeks as she sobbed in relief. “Ranko… my daughter… my baby… thank Kami-sama!” Akane was on Ranko’s other side, grasping her hand tightly, also crying tears of joy; her gaze did not leave the face of the girl she thought of as her twin sister.

Ryouga was not surprised to find her face growing wet as well; something about this body drew forth tears even more readily than her guy form. She sank slowly to her knees in profound relief, nightmares of a world without the woman she loved receding into blissful irrelevance. She took a moment to gaze at Ranko’s face, drinking in a sight she had feared she would never see again.

Between Akane and Ranko’s mother, there wasn’t a lot of room around the diminutive redhead, but Ryouga reached out and took her remaining free hand. She rubbed her thumb along the delicate fingers; even when Ryouga was in girl form, they were smaller than her own. They were warm with life, but a little on the cool side, and Ryouga instinctively closed her hand around Ranko’s, trying to warm them up. “Who…” she sniffled, drawing smiles from the the others, “who found her?”

“No one did,” said Nabiki. “She just… dropped in. We heard this loud noise in the genkan, and found her there, out cold.”

Ryouga frowned. “You mean she just came home and passed out?”

Kasumi shook her head. “No, the front door didn’t open; I would have heard that. Maybe she came home… the way she left.” She paused for a moment, considering that. “She must have hit her head hard; she has a big lump. But she seems all right otherwise. She doesn’t have any broken bones, and her pupils seem normal.” Kasumi had gained a lot of experience examining unconscious people in the last year, though things had calmed down somewhat recently.

Akane nodded. “I guess we’ll have to wait until she wakes up before we find out anything.”

“Not exactly,” said Nabiki, waving at what was on the dining room table.

Akane turned her head, while still holding onto Ranko’s hand; she didn’t want to let go just yet. There were two canvas bags, both empty, Ranko’s portfolio, a large mailing envelope which had no doubt held the stack of papers Kasumi and Nabiki were going through, and… a folded white dress with a matching pair of white pumps. It looked relatively new, and on the expensive side.

Akane’s jaw dropped. “If she vanished for three days to go on a shopping trip, I’m going to kill her.”

Nabiki chuckled. “I don’t think so.” She handed Akane one of the papers to read.

Akane blinked as she read aloud: “Form 939587284-WWU (Revised 1203 A.D.): Cover letter. Greetings, From the Director of the Bureau of Mortal Affairs. Congratulations! You have been selected to serve the multiverse as a mortal auxiliary!” She scanned the rest of it in silence. When she was done, she handed the form to Ryouga, who held it so that she and Nodoka could read it together.

“You know,” said Nabiki, “I thought Ranko might have been kidnapped by gods, or demons, or monsters, or some crazed martial arts master or magician from China… but I never imagined that she’d been abducted by bureaucrats from the spirit world.” She snorted.

Just then there was a call from the genkan. “Gomen kudasai…”

“Oh,” said Kasumi, “it’s the mailman. I’ll be right back.” She hurried down the hall, coming back a few moments later with a handful of letters. She kneeled at the table, looking through the pieces, and stopped, looking over a standard letter envelope. She appeared to be somewhat taken aback.

“What is it, Oneechan?” asked Nabiki.

Kasumi replied, “There’s a letter here for ‘The Tendou and Saotome families.’ From the Bureau of Mortal Affairs.” She peered at the envelope more closely, and read aloud, “Mail delayed due to incorrect postal code. Please inform sender of correct information.” She opened the envelope, and read further:

March 16, 2000

“That’s the day she disappeared!” said Nabiki.

Dear Mortals,

One of your family members has been selected to serve the multiverse as a mortal auxiliary. He/she/it is safe and should return within a few days. This letter has been sent as a courtesy to alleviate any concerns you may have about your loved one’s disappearance.

Sincerely,

The signature was a collection of seemingly meaningless squiggly lines.

Section Chief, Mortal Auxiliary Support Department, Bureau of Mortal Affairs

Everyone stared, incredulous. Akane snarled, “They put us through three days of hell, because they didn’t get the postal code right?” She shook her head. “If I could get my hands on those idiots… It’s a shame they’re all dead already.”

Nabiki grinned. “Feeling violent, kiddo?”

Ryouga cracked her knuckles. “She isn’t the only one.”

“None of that really matters,” said Nodoka gently. “What matters is that she’s home… safe and sound.” She smiled as she stroked the redhead’s cheek.

Nabiki turned back to plowing through the forms, looking for more information. Though most of it looked useless…

Kasumi returned to the kitchen to resume work on dinner. She smiled contentedly as she pulled a few more ingredients from the refrigerator; she would have one more to feed tonight.

And Nodoka, Akane, and Ryouga just sat, and quietly enjoyed the slow, gentle rise and fall of the blanket that covered Ranko.

When Ranko started to shift and moan a little, Nabiki called “Oneechan!”, and Kasumi hurried back in. Everyone watched with anxious anticipation as the redhead stirred, shaking her head slightly.

Ranko swam slowly back towards consciousness. Her head was throbbing, and the last thing she remembered was clicking her heels together in the genkan. Had it worked?

Her head, while it felt like it was in a vise, seemed to be in someone’s lap, and she felt a hand gently caress her cheek. She slowly opened her eyes, to find her mother smiling down at her. “M-mother?” She winced; her head really hurt. “Did it… did it not work?”

Nodoka’s smile faded into a bewildered expression. “Did what not work, Dear?”

Ranko lowered her gaze and looked around. She was in the family room, surrounded by five women, all watching her with great concern: her mother, her three sisters, and… her boyfriend. She smiled, and winced again. Seeing Ryouga-chan could mean only one thing. “It did work… I’m home…” Tears started to trickle down her cheeks, and she grasped her mother’s hand tightly.

Nodoka smiled, and tears left tracks down her cheeks as well. “Yes. Welcome home, sweetheart.” She squeezed back.

After a time, Nodoka helped her daughter sit up, keeping an arm around her to steady her. Ranko’s head swam. “Kasumi-neechan,” she rasped, “could you… ugh… could you get me some aspirin? Extra strength…” Everyone winced in sympathy as Kasumi got up and hurried into the kitchen, returning with the painkillers and some water, as well as an icebag. Ranko showed her gratitude with her eyes, and downed the pills quickly. The icebag was placed on her head. “Thanks, Oneechan.”

Though Ranko still looked a little shaky, Akane couldn’t contain herself any longer; she felt like she was ready to burst. “Sis, where have you been these past three days?!”

Ranko smiled, and winced again. “I was right here… except I wasn’t.” Confused stares abounded. “I was right here in this house, except in a parallel world. I was sent there to fulfill a wish, by something called the ‘Bureau of Mortal Affairs.’”

“We know about them,” snorted Nabiki. She waved at the forms on the table, and handed the letter to Ranko. “This arrived today, three days late. The postal code was wrong.”

Ranko scanned the letter, and sighed. “It figures. They misaddressed my package of forms, too.”

Akane didn’t really care about that; she was impatient to know what had happened to her sister. She leaned forward, intent. “What do you mean, a parallel world?”

Ranko weakly waved her hand around at her family. “It was exactly identical to this one—almost. You were all there, and you were all exactly the same.” Kasumi gasped, and held up the two canvas bags, an unspoken question in her eyes. Ranko nodded. “Yes, the one I brought home belonged to that other you.”

Ryouga asked, “How did you know you were in a parallel world if everything was the same?”

Ranko smiled at her. “I said it was almost identical. There was one big difference: in that world, I had been born a boy, and so had Hiromi. They were Ranma and Hirosuke instead.” Jaws dropped around the room. “Ranma… he looks just like I did, before. And he has a Nyanniichuan curse, too; his female form looks exactly like me. When I showed up, he was off visiting Hirosuke in Tama New Town, and all of you thought I was him, but had flipped out and was acting like a girl. We got it straightened out eventually, and Ranma came home the next day.”

She shook her head, and winced again. “The odd thing was, our lives were just about the same, up until the point where I became a girl again. He was on the road with Father for ten years, not twelve, and he fell in the Nyanniichuan by accident, but everything else was the same: the multiple fiancées, the craziness, the martial arts challenges, everything…” She shivered. “And they didn’t stop. My life stopped being like that when I became me again, but his life kept going the same way. Just an hour or so before I came home, someone challenged me, thinking I was him.”

Everyone looked around. “This is kind of hard to grasp, Dear,” said her mother.

Ranko nodded. “I’ll bet. I have some pictures…” She started to rise, and fell back heavily into her mother’s embrace. “Maybe if someone could get my purse for me…” Akane fetched it for her, and Ranko pulled out the envelope which the other Nabiki had given her. She slid the photos out, and her family crowded around to look at them.

The first one told it all: it was a picture of Ranma and Ranko blowing out the candles on their birthday cake, the banner wishing them both a happy birthday hanging behind them. Akane and Nodoka could be seen on either side of them.

There was stunned silence as everyone took in the bizarre sight of Ranko sitting next to a male version of herself: the black-haired boy they had already nearly forgotten, whom Nodoka had barely even known. Akane stared also at the girl with short black hair who was another person… but was also herself. She shivered; it was eerie.

She tried to find her voice. “It looks like they made you part of the family while you were there.”

Ranko smiled sadly and nodded. “Once they figured out I wasn’t Ranma, they did. In fact, you and Mother got quite attached to me, and you were really sad when I left.” She sighed. “I felt bad, but I couldn’t possibly stay there when all of you were here.”

Akane whispered, “I’m glad you came home to us, Sis. The last three days have been hell. I thought I’d lost you… again.” Her eyes grew wet, and she took Ranko’s hand, squeezing and getting a squeeze in return.

Ranko reflected that while she’d gotten close to that other Akane, in just three days their bond couldn’t possibly approach the one she shared with her twin sister, forged in their childhood years together. They just looked at each other for a moment; no words were necessary.

Ranko flipped through more photos, and came to one showing her and Ranma-chan, both holding their violins. Kasumi’s eyes widened, and alternated between the photo and the two canvas bags on her dining table.

“Wow…” breathed Akane. “You really are… identical.” She blinked. “Does she… I mean, he, play the violin, too?”

Ranko grinned. “He didn’t before I got there. He saw me play, and wanted to try it. It turns out he has the same knack I do. He wants to be a martial artist, but he’s going to take lessons from Kobayakawa-sensei. You got a violin for him for his birthday, Sis. A rental.” She flipped the photos, and came to one of Ranma and Akane.

Akane stared at the photo; something about the way she and this male Ranko were sitting together disturbed her. “Sis… what kind of relationship does this other me have with… Ranma?”

Ranko blushed. “Ummm… they’re engaged, like we were.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

Ranko hesitated. “They’re in love with each other. In a romantic way. They’re going to get married.”

Everyone looked around uncomfortably. Akane considered that for a long, long time, her lips pursed and her brow furrowed, before offering her verdict: “Yuck.” Ranko rolled her eyes and nodded her concurrence, and everyone laughed.

“How about me?” asked Ryouga. “Was I there?”

Ranko’s face fell. “Yes, but…”

“But?”

Ranko sighed. “You were in love with this other girl named Akari, and when you met me you thought I was Ranma and got angry with me, like you used to.”

“Did I attack you?” asked Ryouga, worried.

“No, you just insulted me.” Everyone laughed, and Ryouga blushed. “You got nicer, though. You left pretty quickly, because you told me you were starting to have feelings for me.” She leafed through the photos. “Here you are.” Everyone peered at the photo of Ryouga and Ukyou sitting together, laughing over something at the birthday party. Ryouga felt a chill run up her spine.

“Do we know about Ryouga’s Nyanniichuan curse there?” asked Akane.

Ranko and Ryouga exchanged glances. “Ummm… no. Not yet.”

“Did you tell them all about the two of us?” asked Ryouga.

Ranko grinned. “I didn’t tell them about you and me at first, but it came out when you showed up. You and Ranma weren’t thrilled about it.” Her feelings from that time floated up again, and she continued to gaze at the other girl. “Ryouga?” she asked softly.

Something about Ranko’s tone made Ryouga sit up straight, alert. “What?”

“You remember how I told you I was… allergic to engagements?” The girl with the bandanna nodded. “I think I’m… I’m over that. I missed you terribly. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again, and the whole time, I… I wished we were…” she trailed off, embarrassed.

Surprised, delighted smiles spread over the faces of Nodoka and the Tendou sisters. Ryouga grinned. “Really?” Ranko nodded, a frightened look on her face. “Maybe we ought to test you, just to make sure. Allergies can be dangerous, you know.” She stood up. “Just a minute, I need to be a guy for this.” She went into the kitchen, and returned a few moments later, damp but male. He went to the genkan and returned with the small knapsack he always carried with him; he didn’t need the large pack now that he no longer got lost, and he kept his combat umbrella at home most of the time.

“Let’s see…” he said, fishing in one of the pockets. “Ahh.” His hand emerged with a small box, and Ranko gasped. The amused smiles on everyone’s faces made it clear that the redhead was the only one surprised to see it. Ryouga knelt next to her, and opened the box; inside was a ring with a modest diamond.

“How long have you had that?” whispered Ranko.

“A couple of months.” He glanced briefly at Nabiki, who grinned. “I’m paying for it… in convenient monthly installments. But I’ve been holding on to it; like I said, you never know with allergies, and I didn’t want to take a chance.” He cleared his throat. “So, let’s run some tests, shall we?” He pulled the ring out, took her left hand in his, and gingerly touched the ring to the tip of one of her fingers. “How do you feel?”

Ranko’s eyes were wide. “Fine.”

“Any shortness of breath? Itchiness? Hives?” Ranko shook her head. “So far, so good.” He slid the ring onto her ring finger as the rest of the family beamed and Nabiki’s camera flashed. “How about now? Any swelling? Rashes? Breathing difficulties?”

Ranko shook her head again.

“Sure looks like you’re not allergic any more. So… will you marry me, Saotome Ranko?”

Ranko nodded her head, tears in her eyes, and suddenly they were in a tight embrace as her mother and sisters applauded enthusiastically. She whispered “I love you,” into his ear, and he squeezed her tight and whispered “I love you, too,” in return.

Tears wet Akane’s cheeks as well; to go from thinking Ranko dead to this in the space of a couple of hours was almost too much—in a good way. Her mind drifted back to when she and “Ranma” had been engaged, and she was very glad that that part of their lives was behind them. The two of them had found the way to love each other that was right for them, and so Akane felt nothing but joy that echoed her twin sister’s. She glanced at her two older sisters, and found smiles of quiet joy there as well—even on Nabiki.

The couple separated, and Ryouga turned to Nodoka. “I’m sorry, Mom, I guess I should have asked you for permission, first.”

Nodoka laughed. “There’s no need to be so old-fashioned and formal about it, Dear. It’s nearly the 21st century, after all. And Ranko is old enough to make her own decisions.”

In the midst of her happy glow, Ranko thought, Oh, Mother, you and I really need to have a chat.

Saotome Ranko lay in bed—her own bed—and sighed happily. She looked around the room, taking it all in: her closet, her desk, her dresser with the family photos on top, her vanity, her music stand next to which sat her wonderful new violin, her posters of accomplished women. And the futon on the floor; her mother would be spending the night with her. She snuggled her toes, burrowing them deep under her comforter, and turned to smile at her dolls and stuffed animals, lined up against the wall as if in review, saluting her return.

Again she felt guilty for having the biggest room of the four young women living in the Tendou home. She had tried a few months ago to get one of her sisters to swap with her, arguing that the smallest person should not hog the largest room, but they had all refused.

She lifted her left hand up, and gazed in wonder at her ring, turning her hand this way and that. She’d been engaged before, of course—multiple times—but this was the first time she’d been engaged as a girl, the first time she’d been proposed to, the first time she’d worn a ring, and most importantly, the first time she’d been a willing participant. It was simultaneously wonderful and scary. She was glad the actual wedding was still years away; she needed to take this one, slow step at a time.

It had made for an interesting moment when her father had finally made it home. He and Uncle Tendou had staggered in close to dinner time, looking like hell. When they’d encountered her with everyone else in the family room, still lying on the futon and taking it slow, Uncle Tendou had started blubbering as usual, but her father had just gazed at her, the look in his eyes expressing far more than Uncle Tendou’s fountain of tears. She knew her father loved her—she was reminded of that every time he came in contact with cold water—but as he’d come into the room and she’d seen the haunted, hopeless look in his eyes give way to joy, she’d felt his love in a palpable way.

He’d come to kneel by her side, and taken her hand, which was dwarfed by his own. When his fingers had found the ring, he’d merely raised an eyebrow and smiled, his eyes crinkling, and she’d blushed and smiled back. As with Akane, words were sometimes superfluous. She’d beamed after him as he and Uncle Tendou stumbled off to the bath to clean up. It wasn’t until they were eating dinner that she retold her story in detail for everyone.

Over dinner, her family had insisted on going ahead with a belated birthday celebration, though they had agreed to put it off until the next day due to the already late hour and Ranko’s bruised head. Kasumi had called all of Ranko’s friends and acquaintances, and had been radiant when she was done; it was always wonderful to be the bearer of such good news.

Professor Murata was one of those who had been anxiously awaiting a bulletin, and had insisted on talking to his star pupil directly. He’d surprised Ranko by not once asking after the violin; instead, he’d been quite agitated about her well-being. When she’d volunteered that the instrument was safe, he’d replied that while it would be difficult to replace, it was nothing compared to her. He’d insisted that she stay home and rest the next day, and promised to come visit. He’d also informed her, tongue in cheek as usual, that being spirited off to a parallel universe was no excuse for not practicing, and she’d laughed and sworn that she had.

Thoughts of the impending birthday celebration led her to lift her right hand and examine the charm bracelet given to her by the other Akane. That other world already seemed like a dream; how could it not, when all of her loved ones were here under this roof? Its oddness was already fading from her memory, displaced by the comfortable normalcy of her own life. She knew now what she had found most disturbing about that world: here, she saw herself reflected in the eyes of her family. There, she had been like a ghost, looking into the mirror of their eyes only to see nothing—or worse, someone else.

And yet, the mistaken kanji for her name was a constant reminder that the girl who had given this to her was not her Akane, but rather her counterpart from that other world, now beyond her reach. Ranko closed her eyes, and prayed that the counterparts of Akane and her mother there would not hurt for too long. In their eyes alone she had begun to see her own reflection again.

Just then her mother came in. The older woman smiled fondly as she took off her robe. “Well, you certainly look comfortable, sweetheart.” Ranko nodded happily, grinning.

Nodoka came over to the bed and sat down; she took Ranko’s left hand in her right, and examined it. She sighed, “I can’t believe my little girl is engaged. If only I’d been able to enjoy more of your childhood years. Now you’re all grown up.”

Ranko blushed. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

Nodoka shook her head. “Don’t be, sweetheart. I’m very happy. I have my daughter back, and… my daughter has herself back.” She smiled.

Ranko’s memory was jogged. “Mother… suppose I had decided to stay a boy? What would you have done?”

Nodoka raised an eyebrow. “Having second thoughts, Dear?”

“No!” replied Ranko forcefully, then a little more calmly, “No. I was just wondering.”

Nodoka tilted her head and thought. “Well, I would have been unhappy, to be sure, but your happiness comes first with me. If you had needed to do that, then I would have supported you.” She peered at her daughter. “There’s a reason you’re asking me this, isn’t there?”

Ranko smiled sheepishly. “Yes. Of all the people in that other world, you were the most different. In some ways, you were even more different than Ranma and I.”

Nodoka tugged on her daughter’s arm. “Come here and tell me about it.”

Ranko sat up and gladly settled into her mother’s embrace. “Well, for one thing, you were so… forgive me… stuffy. Very formal, very traditional and old-fashioned. I mean, I know you wear a kimono most days, but I’ve seen you in other clothes, even a sweatshirt on that day we cleaned the house together. I can’t imagine that other you ever wearing a sweatshirt.”

Nodoka smiled. “Go on.”

“You were so inflexible about Japanese traditions and gender roles. Ranma… he spent more time in his girl form than you were comfortable with. It was useful to him, because he’d been raised in such a rigid way that it was the only way he could express his gentler side. It was kind of sad, actually; I hope he can get better at doing that kind of thing as a guy. But you didn’t approve of it; you told him that men had to be manly, and you told me that I shouldn’t ask Ryouga to take care of the kids, that my role as a wife and mother should come before my own career. I was really at a loss; it seemed so unlike you. We had a big fight about it. And then there was that seppuku promise I told you all about! I couldn’t believe you’d hold Ranma to that!”

Nodoka seemed somewhat shocked herself, and had a faraway look in her eyes. “It’s hard for me to say, Dear. My life has gone very differently from hers.”

Ranko peered up at her mother, puzzled. “It has?”

Her mother smiled. “Of course. Think about it. She knowingly sent her son and husband on a training mission, when Ranma was… what was it, six?” Ranko nodded. “I don’t know how happy she was about that, but she agreed to it, and her husband promised to bring Ranma back; the trust between them was intact.” Her face grew grim. “My husband vanished, taking you with him. You were only four and a half, barely more than a baby. I had no idea what had happened, and I felt utterly betrayed.” She hung her head.

After a time, she continued. “When I was young I used to be as you described: stuffy and traditional, very old-fashioned and rigid. When your father ran off with you, my life was turned upside down. I felt that I had played the proper role of a Japanese wife, but that tradition had turned its back on me. I didn’t think about much except losing you for the first couple of years, but once I got back on my feet I was a much more skeptical person. I decided Japanese tradition was not all it was cracked up to be. I decided I wanted to think for myself, and as an abandoned wife I pretty much had to.” Ranko nodded slowly, and Nodoka smiled. “So you could say that your father was the one who made me this way, and I think I’m a better person for it. Not that I’m planning to thank him, mind you.”

Ranko sighed. “I guess that explains it…”

Nodoka seemed to want to say more, but hesitated. Ranko inquired, “Mother?”

The older woman blushed. “I thought of one other thing. I wonder if I should mention this…” She paused for a few moments, then sagged. “I suppose there’s no harm in it.” She smiled sheepishly. “Dear, when I found out I was pregnant, I desperately wanted it to be a girl. I wanted a daughter in the worst way. Looking back at it now, I feel very foolish; I should have been happy either way, and if I had it to do over again I would be.” She sighed. “Back then, though, I wanted a girl very badly. So badly that I was worried that if I had a son, I would do a poor job raising him. So I promised myself that if I had a boy, I would try hard to raise him to be a man.”

Ranko’s jaw was hanging open. “Do you think…?”

Nodoka shrugged. “Perhaps. I got the daughter I wanted, but if you’d been a boy, perhaps I would have been too anxious about making a man out of you. Perhaps that other me fell into that trap, instead of letting her child just be whoever he is.” She smiled. “It would be interesting to compare notes with her, the way you did with Ranma.”

Ranko’s eyes were looking at something in another world. “I wonder… if that’s what happened, maybe my wish will help Ranma, too. I hadn’t planned it that way, but…”

Nodoka’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Wish?”

Ranko nodded. “I didn’t mention it over dinner, but one of the coupons I got in my forms package was for a free wish. That other you and that other Akane were so sad about me leaving, I… I wished for them to have their own Ranko.”

Nodoka gasped. “That’s a big change in their lives, Dear! Think about all the disruptions you caused while you were there, and you weren’t even planning to stay. It might cause more problems than it solves. How exactly did you word your wish?”

Ranko beamed. “I actually thought about everything you mentioned. At first I was going to wish for them to have a copy of me, but then I thought that my copy would be just as miserable getting stuck there as I would, and might cause some of the problems I had. So what I wrote instead was, ‘I wish that Ranma had a sister Ranko, a version of me who belongs in his world.’”

Nodoka paled. “And did this other Ranko appear immediately?”

Ranko frowned. “Well… no. Not before I left.”

Nodoka closed her eyes. “That’s what I was afraid of. Dear, did you consider what the most straightforward way of fulfilling that wish was?”

Ranko shook her head, confused. “Umm… making a copy of me with different memories or something?”

Nodoka sighed. “Sweetheart, where do sisters usually come from?”

Ranko furrowed her brow for a moment, then turned ashen. “Oh, Kami-sama… I…”

Nodoka nodded. “Quite possibly. I suppose we’ll never know, though.”

Ranko looked miserable. “She’ll probably hate me.”

Nodoka squeezed her daughter a little tighter, and kissed her on the head. “I rather doubt that, darling. I’m sure things will work out for them.”

After a time they separated, and Nodoka stroked back Ranko’s hair. “It’s time for bed, Dear. You need to rest; tomorrow will be a big day, and you’re still recovering from that bump on the head.” Ranko nodded and lay back; the older woman turned the light out and slipped into her futon.

Ranko was dead tired, and started to fade the moment her head hit the pillow. Her mind turned away from that other world back towards her own. She was very much looking forward to seeing her friends tomorrow—and having them know who she was. To seeing herself reflected in their eyes, no longer a ghost. Her last thought before drifting off was, Glinda was right. There really is no place like home.

Asphalt paths ran all through the large park that lay near the center of Fuurinkan-cho. It was a beautiful late spring day, warm and unusually dry, and the paths were full of people enjoying the weather.

Heads turned as a young woman roller-bladed down one of these paths. She had red hair in a loose ponytail, and striking blue eyes, but her resemblance to the cursed form of a certain martial artist who lived in the area ended there. This woman appeared to be in her mid twenties, and was a foreigner: she had freckles to go with her red hair. She was wearing a tank top, form-fitting bike shorts that left little to the imagination, and had a portable CD player on her waist with button earphones in her ears as she zoomed along.

It was unusual to see a gaijin way out in Nerima, but not remarkably so, and face after face broke into a smile as she passed. Except for the faces of the wives and girlfriends of certain men who were watching just a little too closely, and smiling just a little too broadly. The redhead grinned at the trail of male saliva she was leaving in her wake.

The path wound its way to a less populated part of the park, and the woman rolled to a stop at the mouth of a gravel walk. She looked carefully up and down the asphalt path to make sure she was alone, and then, quite suddenly, she had running shoes on her feet rather than roller blades. She ran in place for a moment, then set off down the walk at a steady jog.

A couple of minutes later, in a seldom-visited corner of the park, she came to a stop beside a large bush. Without hesitation, she reached under the bush, then stood up again, holding a peculiar-looking black and red stone. She grinned. “Long time no see, Willie.” She paused for a moment, looking for all the world as if she were listening to someone. “I’ll bet. Just a sec.”

She once again looked around to make sure she was alone, then placed the stone in the middle of a grassy spot. She gazed at it for a moment, and a flash of something far older than her apparent twenty-five years passed through her eyes, and seemed to gather strength. Suddenly she flung out her arms, arched her back, and chanted to the heavens:

“Living soul, locked in stone, return once more to flesh and bone!”

A glowing aura formed around her, then left her and swirled around the stone. There was a flash of light, and where the stone had lain stood a man. He too had red hair and freckles, and he wore opulent robes of deepest black. His fingers were thick with rings.

Prince Wilhelm Friedrich von Dittersdorf spent a moment flexing his fingers while staring at them, as if he weren’t used to it, then turned his cool gaze to the woman. “So. It’s been a long time, Margarethe. I’m glad you didn’t forget how to undo it.”

Margarethe nodded, her gaze equally cool. “Are you mocking me—again?”

He shook his head. “Of course not.” The two regarded each other for a moment more…

…before their cold expressions melted. The Prince grinned. “Well, OK, maybe just a little. How are you, babe?”

She giggled. “Not bad, lover boy. And you?”

He spread his hands. “Me? About the only thing I have to worry about is erosion.” They laughed. He looked her over once again. “I see you’ve updated your look.” His grin suggested he liked it.

She shrugged. “Medieval is out, Willie. Waaaay out.” She eyed him. “You need a makeover yourself, hon. Let’s see… what is royalty wearing these days?” She closed her eyes, and his robes were replaced by a dark, expensive Italian suit. She smiled. “Still very dashing—my prince.” She giggled again.

He sighed. “You’re not going to stop until you’ve completely made me over, are you?”

She came over to take his arm. “But you’re my own personal little fixer-upper! I like to leave my boyfriends better than I find them. Would I have spent so much time on you over the past five hundred years if I didn’t think you had potential? I could have turned you into a toad instead of a rock, you know. Besides,” she paused, and her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink, “I don’t have any plans to move out of this fixer-upper any time soon.”

The jocular mood faded, and they simply gazed at each other for a long moment. “So,” he asked, “to what do I owe this honor? It’s been over a hundred years since I’ve been let out like this.” He sounded a bit sullen.

She smiled. “I have a message for you from the Section Chief: ‘well done.’ He really likes the way you handled the Kunou wish. It could have been a disaster, and you turned it into something positive instead. You know he fancies billiards; he said it was like a triple bank shot.”

The Prince smiled, and bowed as only a prince can. “I am but your humble servant.”

Margarethe snorted. “I’m not so sure about the ‘humble’ part.” She scrunched up her face. “How did you know the Saotome girl would make that wish, anyway?”

His face was an enigma. “The Chief is an expert on billiards. I, on the other hand… am an expert on redheads. A far more fascinating subject.” He flashed her a knowing smile, and she blushed a little more deeply than before.

It took her a moment to recover her aplomb; she cleared her throat. “Anyway, that’s why I came, to deliver the Chief’s message.”

He seemed to sag slightly. “I see. So now it’s back in the slammer?”

She smiled broadly. “No, Willie.” He stared in shock. “You’re getting an early promotion, to Strategic Planning. The Chief said he wanted you to work on bigger things.”

His jaw hung open. “You mean…”

She nodded, grinning. “Yup. Sentence reduced to time served. I’m here to bust you out of stir, von Dittersdorf.” Her smile faded. “Willie…? Are you all right?”

He shook his head. “I’m… I don’t know what to say…”

She smirked. “Try, ‘Thank you.’”

He laughed. “I have a better idea.” He swept her into his arms, and kissed her very, very thoroughly.

A minute later, they came up for air. “Oh, God,” she sighed, “I knew there was a good reason I didn’t turn you into a toad!” They kissed again.

Eventually they separated, and he asked, “So, when does my new job start? Right away?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course not! That would make sense, and we can’t have that. You know the regulations: new jobs always start on a Monday, and you’ve already missed Orientation this week.” She smiled suggestively. “You’ve got a week off to celebrate, my prince.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Any chance I could get some help celebrating?”

She grinned. “I thought you’d never ask…”

He held out his elbow—as only a prince could—and she put her arm through it. They smiled at each other…

…and vanished.

Chapter Text

Akane watched the clock in the family room tick off the seconds, and sighed. Auntie should be home from the doctor any minute now… and they would know.

Ranma’s mother had been feeling under the weather for weeks now. She often felt a lack of energy; her appetite waxed and waned. Souun and Kasumi, haunted by memories of the beginnings of Tendou Kirara’s fatal illness, had begged her to visit a doctor. Nodoka had dismissed their concerns, saying she just had a bug that wouldn’t go away.

That morning, though, she’d been sick to her stomach without warning, and they’d finally convinced her to see her physician. And so the two families waited in anxious suspense to hear the verdict.

Akane was afraid; she was still hurting from losing Ranko five months ago, and she was worried that there was a chance, however slim, that she might lose Auntie, too. It’s probably nothing, she tried to convince herself. Don’t be such a worrywart.

But the expected time of Nodoka’s return came and went. An extra fifteen minutes dragged by. Then a half hour. Then forty-five minutes. Then an hour. Then two. Their mood worsened with each tick of the clock; this couldn’t possibly be good news.

Finally, they heard the front door open, and heard a quiet call of “Tadaima.” Several of them called back in reply; all eyes turned to the hallway. Nodoka appeared, and Akane’s heart sank further; the older woman seemed to be in shock. Akane’s gaze went to Ranma, and she saw something in his eyes that rarely made an appearance: fear. Please… Please, let Auntie live. I don’t want Ranma to have to go through what I did… not yet…

Nodoka sank to her knees at the dining table, laying down her purse and a small bag. Fear blossomed in Genma’s eyes as well, and he came over to put an arm around her. “N-nodoka…?”

She glanced around at the assembled family, a dazed look in her eyes. She seemed several times to try to start to speak, but apparently couldn’t find the words.

Finally, Akane could stand it no longer. “Auntie… please… tell us what the doctor said!” she pleaded. “Are you… are you…” She couldn’t continue.

Nodoka opened her mouth, blushed crimson, then closed it again. She took a deep breath, seemed to steel herself, then blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

Aside from Nodoka herself, there was not a vertical body left in the room.

Genma struggled to right himself. “But… but… Nodoka… That’s… that’s…”

“Impossible,” finished Nodoka. “Yes, it is.”

The Tendou sisters exchanged glances. “Why is that, Auntie?” asked Kasumi.

Nodoka smiled faintly. “Dear, about a year after Ranma was born, I became pregnant again. It was an ectopic pregnancy, and when the surgeons finally went in they found that the other tube was already damaged as well. They told me that I could never have another child without extensive artificial assistance, something we could not afford then, and still can’t.” She shared a pained look with Genma. “We just gave up on ever having another child, resigned ourselves to it. Besides,” she looked to her son and smiled more convincingly, “we had our Ranma.” Ranma smiled back, a little embarrassed.

Akane furrowed her brow. “So how could you be pregnant now?”

Nodoka seemed not to hear. “Given my history, the doctor insisted on doing an ultrasound examination immediately; that’s why I was so late. He said that the pregnancy was normal—even though my tubes are still missing. He couldn’t understand how it was possible, but he couldn’t argue with the test results. He said the baby is due next March.” Suddenly, a small smile appeared on her face. “Mid-March, to be exact. And he said it’s a little too early to be sure, but from the ultrasound he thinks it’s a girl.” The smile broadened. “He may not be sure, but I am.”

Nabiki frowned. “How could you possibly be pregnant in that case? It would take a miracle…” she trailed off, then gasped, her eyes wide. “Or a wish…” Several other jaws fell open as well.

Nodoka nodded. “Exactly. I knew, as soon as he told me when the baby was due. I knew why this had happened.” Her eyes lost focus. “And I also know that the baby is going to be a girl, and that she will be born next March 18th at 7:23 AM.” She smiled at Ranma again. “And I know she will have red hair and blue eyes, and grow up to look exactly like her big brother—when he’s her big sister.”

Akane’s thoughts went to the tiny, heart-shaped photograph she kept in a cameo frame on her desk, and the room suddenly blurred as she felt tears start to drip down her face.

Ranma was slack-jawed. Big brother… I’m… I’m gonna have a little sister… Slowly, his face creased in a smile. His eyes found his father’s, and he found similar sentiments there.

There were broad smiles all around the room now as Nodoka continued, smiling herself. “And I know what I must name her, too.” She reached into the small bag by her side, and pulled out a bouquet of beautiful flowers. “These were right out in front when I passed the florist on the way out of the hospital. They were sitting there all by themselves, and I knew they were there for me.” She closed her eyes and inhaled their fragrance as everyone nodded.

“Orchids,” whispered Akane.

The End