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Chapter Text

Prologue: The Start is Where the End is Leading You

"This sure is some rescue party," said Ranma, "Anyone got any bright ideas?"

The black-haired young man spoke brashly as he ran through the backwoods illuminated only by pale moonlight, but the subtle quirk of his smile and ever so slight waver in his voice betrayed his macho front. He was dirty, covered with the sweat and grime of a day long running battle, while his clothes were practically in tatters. The rips in his red silk shirt revealed an array of bruises, cuts and scratches all-over his body.

And he probably looked the least worse for wear of the Nerima wrecking crew. Genma braced himself on a walking stick, hobbling to keep up with his running allies. One eye was swollen shut, and his glasses were cracked. Soun followed closely after, his clothes and hair singed. Mousse and Shampoo staggered behind him, supporting each other's weight.

At the end of the caravan, Ukyo struggled to keep up, carrying Konatsu's unconscious body piggy-back. In between ragged, panting breaths, she shouted, "We're not going to be able to escape at this pace! Ranma-honey, do something!"

Meanwhile, Akane (the rescuee of this little expedition), ran in the middle of the pack, shrinking in shame as much as one can possibly do when running for their life. All of this trouble was for her sake, and she certainly didn't feel worthy of it. All this suffering to rescue her…it was almost unbearable.

"Argh," Ranma growled, digging deeper for more strength to carry on. "Damn it, I hate to admit it, but I really wish that Ryoga was with us on this one."

"Well, he's not, and wishing he was won't get us anywhere," replied a familiar voice. A voice that had once been his.

She took up the rear guard of their group, keeping a careful eye for pursuers as they flew like a bat out of hell away from their doom. Her silk shirt hung in tatters around her shoulders, revealing the once flawlessly smooth skin of her chest, now covered with bruises and scabs from battle. A ripped black sports bra was the only thing left preserving her modesty.

Her most striking feature was her fiery red hair, braided into a long queue that reached her mid back. Her hair still burned brightly even in the moonlight.

In spite of her exhaustion, she remained alert and vigilant, searching for any sign of their pursuers. They had maybe a ten minute lead when they had first made their escape, judging by the disorganization among the guards, but undoubtedly that lead was shrinking, with how exhausted they were. Someone could catch up at any moment.

As they crossed a narrow rope bridge over a deep, misty chasm, Ukyo suddenly lost her footing. She skidded to a halt on the far-side, groaning with pain and frustration. Konatsu was jerked backed to consciousness by the impact, crying out in shock as he lay in a tangled heap with the okonomiyaki chef.

The red-haired girl winced at her friend's awkard tumble. "Ucchan!" she cried, before coming to her aid. As she disentangled the half-conscious male kunoichi from Ukyo, and started to check them both for serious injuries, the rest of the party gathered around them. For what seemed like a short eternity, nothing but the sounds of ragged panting filled the cool night air. Finally, Ranma-chan breathed a sigh of relief. "Looks like just a few scratches. You'll be fine."

"Shampoo no can keep this up much longer," said the very exhausted Amazon. She awkwardly braced herself on one foot, breathing raggedly as Mousse took the opportunity to bandage her ankle.

Everyone nodded in silent agreement.

Even the ever arrogant Ranma seemed to have been knocked down a few pegs. Everyone looked a bit frustrated and scared by the present circumstances. The looks on their faces almost broke the pig-tailed girl's heart. She silently helped Ukyo and Konatsu to their feet before taking a moment to scan the terrain.

The chasm was deep and broad, and the mist made attempting to jump it suicidal in a combat situation for even the most adept martial artist. The bridge was narrow enough that only single-file was the only comfortable way to attempt to cross, and it had enough play to challenge someone's balance. It was perfect.

"The way I see it, we've got two options," she said, "Either we keep trying to run and hope to out last them, or…" she motioned to the bridge, "one of us stays behind and holds them off as long as possible."

"But that's suicide!" said Mousse.

"I know," she replied, "and that's why I'm—"

"It's not if I do it!" cried Ranma, cutting off his distaff counterpart. "You guys go on ahead. I'll show those bastards why Saotome Ranma never loses!"

Ranma-chan sighed, facepalming with indignation. She knew that cocky jerk well enough to know that either the gravity of the situation hadn't really caught up with him, or he was putting on up a front even after all this.

"Boy, if you think we came all this way to rescue your fiancée just so you could play Horatius at the bridge, you've got another thing coming!"(1) said Genma. "Besides, I'm just a burden to you running. I'll hold them off."

Whereas Ranma's words were simple youthful bravado, Genma's confidence was different. Though Ranma-chan was still a little bit irked from having been cut off and ignored, hearing her father act fatherly, and lay his life down to defend his child brought a small smile to her face. Perhaps the old man wasn't so bad after all. Still, she couldn't imagine him putting up too much of a fight like this.

"Old man, you are in no—"

Soun cut her off this time. "Nonsense Saotome! You've already done so much to help rescue my daughter, staying behind is the least I could do to repay you. Besides, I've been injured less than you."

"Daddy, wait just a minute!" cried Akane.

The argument raged on for another minute, with each of the men demanding the honor of staying behind, while Ranma-chan kept getting cut off everytime she tried to speak. She suspected that it was just a play of male egos, because they weren't (totally) insane. They all had a lot to live for, and no one wanted to have to die if they could help it. An entirely unblameworthy position.

Finally, Ukyo cried "Enough!" and slammed her combat spatula on the ground in between the arguing men. Finally, silence. "If we can't resolve it like this, then we'll just draw straws."

Finally, Ranma-chan had the chance to speak. "This is unnecessary Ukyo. It was my idea. I should be the one to do it."

"No, I think we should let fate decide," her masculine counterpart replied.

The rest nodded in agreement. Letting destiny solve the argument seemed like a fair enough way out.

"I'm not drawing against you…" she half-whispered. Even now, after all they'd been through, she felt like she wasn't being taken seriously. Their chauvinism was aggravating, and she felt rather ashamed knowing that until a few months ago, she was no different.

"You better, because I'm drawing against you," chided Ranma.

Ukyo had quickly chopped up some straw from the long grass by the trail. As she prepared the lengths of straw, Ranma piped up again, "Yo, Ucchan," he said, "Why are there six and not five?"

"Because I'm the one who fell and cost us valuable time. I'm not some honorless martial artist who is gonna let someone else die for my mistake." She finished, and held out her hand to him. "You first, Ranma-honey."

Ranma drew first, as offered. Ukyo then offered it to Ranma-chan, and then to the rest of the group first-come, first serve. They drew one by one, comparing the lengths of their straw. A pit formed in Ranma's stomach as he gasped in shock. In his hand was the shortest straw. Fate had chosen him. After all this, now was his time to go? It felt kind of stupid to be killed by such a little piece of straw.

"Oh no…" said Ukyo before her mouth started to flap wordlessly. Since his relationship with Akane had turned so much more serious, even inevitable, in the last few months, she had given up chasing after him. But she never stopped loving him for a single moment, and now she'd killed him. Even after she'd given him the first pick, he still drew the short straw.(2)

The look of horror on her face was matched only by Genma's. "Boy, if you think—"

"Pops, shut up," Ranma said sternly, "You said you'd raise me to be a man among men, and that's what I am doing right now. If you won't treat me like a man, then what was this all for?" Ranma clenched his fists in anger, partly at Genma and partly at fate. "You guys better go. They'll be catching up soon.

Soun pulled Genma down along the path, as the party grimly accepted fate. Konatsu seemed to be lucid enough to run now, so Ukyo ended up carrying Akane along bodily. She wasn't about to let the tomboy do something stupid and double the tragedy.

"You guys go on ahead, I'll catch up," cried Ranma-chan.

Mousse lingered to make sure she didn't do something stupid too. It was bad enough for his beloved Shampoo to have to lose one Ranma, and since the unlucky duckboy had resigned himself to at best being number two in her heart, he'd be damned before he'd let Shampoo lose both of them. That would just be senselessly tragic.

Ranma-chan put a comforting hand on her counterpart's shoulder, though it felt a bit awkward thanks to the height difference. Comforting someone larger than you just looked strange. "Hey, Ranma," she said.

That got his attention. She had always made it a point to never call him by name, and he had always done likewise. Their shared identity made it too threatening. "I guess this is what they call 'self-respect'" he joked with himself.

"Ranma," he replied, "I know you know that you can't be what I was for Akane…but I still want you to look after her and love her for me. She's going to need you."

Ranma-chan sighed, closing her eyes. With her exhaled breath went all of her fears and doubts. "That won't be necessary," she said. He sensed something wrong that instant. But she was a coiled spring of determination. In an instant, she released all of that energy for one purpose, too fast for him to react.

Lightning fast blows struck pressure points on his shoulders, torso and head. Instantly, his arms were numb and paralyzed, and his head was spinning with dizziness.

Mousse was too shocked to react immediately.

"Y-you…you uncute tomboy!" Ranma shouted, "What are you doing!"

"Stopping you from making a mistake," she replied. The cheer in her voice was unsettling.

Ranma was struggling to stand straight, but he kept shouting at his counterpart and trying to headbutt her in retaliation. She nimbly dodged all of his strikes while he growled at her, "I don't like it, but it's my destiny!"

"You idiot, even before I did this, you were more injured than me. Besides, after all that I've suffered through for you to be cured, it would be just too damn tragic for you and Akane to never get married."

"Ranchan, have you gone mad!?" cried Mousse, finally rushing to intervene.

In that moment, Ranma was stunned by her words, and looked his counterpart in the eyes. Why was she smiling? Were those tears of joy in her bright blue eyes?

In that instant of vulnerability, she struck again. She punched him hard just below the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him as he doubled over onto her arm. Her fist slipped inside his shirt, depositing something in one of the internal pockets. "Give this to Ryoga. Make sure he gets it."

Ranma gasped for air, coughing out "Why?"

"I'm controlling my own fate. You take care of yourself, bro." She chuckled. They really were brother and sister now, in spite of their continued mutual protest of the idea. She kissed him on the forehead, then shoved his limp body into Mousse's arms. "Goodbye."

There had been a touch of sadness in her otherwise happy voice. And it infuriated Ranma as Mousse started dragging him away. He'd tried to treat her right (after come convincing), but he'd royally sucked at it. It took him far too long to realize what she was going through, and how he and nearly everyone else had inadvertently made it worse. If there was anyone who deserved to live, it was her. And yet here she was, laying her life down for him without a second thought. She had turned away, and was walking to the bridge to prepare to defend it to her lost.

Having finally caught his breath, he cried "Ranma, I'm sorry…"

She glanced over her shoulder at him, smiling. "I'm not…it had to be me." She flashed that all too familiar Saotome Ranma cocky grin. "Someone else might have gotten it wrong!"

Mousse pulled him away, supporting his dizziness as they ran to catch up. Neither of them spoke a word to each other.

Chapter 1: Identity Crisis

Several months earlier…

"Ugh…could you get the number of that bullet-train that just hit me," croaked Ranma, just coming to. For the moment, there was no recollection of where or when this was happening. It was like coming to with a bad hangover at a three day long bender.

Not that Ranma would have known what a three day long bender was like at this point. As wild as the aquatransexual's life had been, binge drinking wasn't part of it. And for those of you reading this, I would hope you wouldn't know from first-hand experience what that kind of dull, throbbing pain, centered mostly in the head but still radiating out through the entire body. Or the sense of delirium that is produced from having your ability to form memories shutdown for some time and still impaired. But I digress…Saotome Nodoka would hope that her virtuous man-among-men son didn't have that experience, so who are we to disappoint her?

Oh right, Ranma's predicament! There was some stirring, as blood started to return to the extremities, and the heart started pumping more vigorously. And some moaning, just loud enough to be barely audible, because even in a catatonic state Ranma tries to cling to manly stoicism.

"Oh, she's coming to," said a voice that Ranma didn't recognize at the moment. Some other sounds started becoming apparent in the general din. The crackle of wood in an open fire, and the gentle rustling of wind in the trees.

The sounds were becoming clearer. Another voice, well at least it sounded like another voice, there was no way of knowing at the moment, said, "Do you think we should tell her?"

"Tell her…what did he mean by that?" Ranma thought. The gears started turning in the brain, and finally the firing of synapses made the right connection, and a memory bubbled to the surface. They had traveled way out of East Asia, all the way to the Pyrenees, in Europe! It was on the border of France and Spain…or was it Italy…ugh, his grasp of geography outside of East Asia was pretty fuzzy. Another name came to mind…La Brèche de Roland. They were looking for a monastery near some spring near that place.

A long way for a cure. But some reliable sources *cough* Cologne *cough* had believed that the resting place of some magical sword was there. A sword that could cut through curses.

More memories came floating back. It had been a long damn training trip. Genma had insisted that they travel there the hard way, so that they could further hone their skills in exotic lands far from comfort. After all, the life of a martial artist is filled with peril…and long journeys apparently. They had arrived after two months of hard travelling, meeting a group of strangely dressed…were they monks? Well, they didn't look like much of any religious figure that Ranma was used to, not even the Catholics that were a somewhat important presence in Japan. While his memory of geography was hazy, he did manage to remember that Europe was predominantly Christian, and this part was supposed to be Catholic.

They had further been confronted by language barriers. None of the monks spoke any East Asian language, and though it had been improving over the trip, Ranma's English skills were still subpar. And while English was the closest thing to a global lingua franca, these monks didn't seem to have gotten the memo. Only one at the monastery spoke English, and he was away for several days.

Which meant several days of boredom. Because their first attempts to train or spar within the abbey walls had been meet rather vigorously. Though neither Ranma, Ryoga nor Genma spoke a word of whatever languages these people were using, it seemed pretty clear that they didn't want any violence going on.

At least the boredom was mutual. Because the monks seemed to take every opportunity they could to play with the three martial artist's curses, splashing them with cold and hot water as fast as they could boil more hot water. They seemed particularly intrigued by Ranma's…intrigued enough to want to check to make sure her breasts were real, and her new figure wasn't an illusion.

Ranma almost managed to respect their wishes about violence in a house of God. Almost.

Finally, the prodigal monk returned, and after a long awkward conversation, which pitted Ranma's heavily Japanese accented English against the monk's heavily Basque accented English, they found out that the sword was in a cavern under a nearby shrine, and a bit more about it.

Oh yes that sword. Good ol' magical artifact sword…if only Ranma could remember its damn name. Whatever. It could cut through anything, even curses. All it would take is a single prick, and even the most evil of curses would be separated.

The last thing Ranma remembered was arguing with Pop and P-Chan over who'd get to use it first. An argument won, to her eternal shame, thanks to female form sad puppy eyes. So she'd pulled it from its mantel, and then cautiously used to prick her finger. Which was harder than it sounds, because the millennia old sword was, like most of its depictions in legend, not only an (anachronistic) bastard sword, but also ridiculously sharp. The monk had warned, without a hint of humor, to be careful not to cut herself in half, or anyone else for that matter.

And then this. Cured at last! Wait a minute, what did they mean about "tell her?" you're asking. Fanfiction may run often on wish-fulfillment, but did you really think it would be that easy? At any rate, Ranma realized that too.

"Wait a minute!" she said to herself, bolting upright. As she opened her eyes, she saw three figures sitting before her, near the cavern entrance. The figures were blurry, and as they slowly came into focus, she saw her male self, looking right back at her kind of sheepishly.

Ranma-chan did the only thing a reasonable person could do. She screamed bloody murder.

Chapter Text

Ranma-chan in front of the small camp fire in silence. She'd pulled her legs up tight to her chest, hiding her blush of embarrassment behind her knees as she slowly rocked back and forth. That scream had been seriously unmanly, and it had taken some convincing to make sure that Pop, Ryoga and that guy didn't think she was some hysterical female.

She hadn't said a word to any of them, because there simply were no words in the Japanese language what she wanted to say. She had plenty of questions, and from the look on their faces, she could tell the feeling was mutual. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Pop left to gather more firewood with him.

Which left her sitting around the crackling campfire with Ryoga. Of all the emotionally-stunted manchildren to have to be stuck with, the sad thing was that Ryoga was probably the least bad choice.

Ranma-chan noticed is awkward glances. Every few minutes, he'd turn to her, and his mouth would hang open as he tried to find something to say, and then he'd quickly go back to minding his own business the moment he thought she was looking. His cluelessness to the fact that she was aware of it all was almost amusing. Almost.

Finally, it just became annoying. If she hadn't felt like she'd been mugged by life, she'd have put a stop to it. But for the moment, she just sat around the fire, shivering from the cold draft. After a while she grew tired of watching Ryoga's pathetic attempts at being something resembling a friend, and buried her face in her knees.

She was almost motionless for a few minutes, except for her occasional shivers, while she contemplated crawling into a hole somewhere and dying. Then she felt something warm wrap around her shoulders. The fabric was coarse, but still warm, and it did a lot to fight off the cold drafts.

Oh she would have none of this. She didn't need anyone's pity, least of all that lousy, aimless buffoon's. Ranma-chan jumped up to her feet, howling with a mix of rage and frustration.

Ryoga was taken aback by her response. He just thought it was a nice thing to do, not thinking of how emasculating such an act would be to an already emasculated chauvinist like Ranma. "So this must be what Ranma feels like when he pisses off Akane…" he said to himself, presenting warding signs as he practically bent over backwards to get as far away as he could from the red-head's fury.

She jabbed him in the chest with her forefinger, standing on her tip-toes to loom over the much taller boy, who had wisely decided to not try to meet the freight train head on. "I do not need your pity!" she screamed.

"Pity? I was just trying to be nice…"

"Well, you should stop, because you suck at it, P-chan."

Ryoga's blood began to boil after the initial shock of the feminine anger assault began to wear off. Veins popped on his forehead as he clenched his fist around the hand that she'd been prodding him in the chest. Ranma-chan tried to pull away, but his vice-like grip refused to yield.

"Ranma…you bastard. After all the shit you've put me through…you have the gall to blow up at me when I try to be nice to you…"

In that moment, Ranma-chan realized she may have pushed him a bit too far this time. Welp…

"Saotome Ranma, prepare to die!"

Their battle began as always, with Ryoga attacking aggressively and making a wreck of his surroundings. Ranma-chan dodged through the falling trees as best as she could, using her superior agility to avoid the worst of his assault. But his attacks were persistent, and eventually a gap appeared in her defenses. His punch connected with her jaw, knocking her back into a sturdy beech tree. The impact knocked the wind out of her.

Ryoga didn't miss a moment to capitalize. He leapt into the air to close the gap, aiming a powerful kick at his staggered foe. But she was far from out of the fight, nimbly dodging to the side. The thick trunk shattered into kindling.

The slight of the splintered wood cascading towards the ground gave him pause; the way the shreds of bark and pulp exploded outwards from the impact seemed to flow almost like a wave. And in that instant, Ryoga realized he'd gone too far…again. And like most male martial artists from Nerima, his defenses dropped as the realization of guilt took hold.

Ranma-chan's upper cut hit his chin like a battering ram, propelling him up through the tree canopy in a graceful arc. He landed, headfirst, with a wet thud by the campsite, drenching himself with now cold contents of the tea kettle.

Ranma-chan smiled with smug satisfaction. No matter how bad things got, Ryoga could always be counted on to be a great punching bag. She dusted herself off, and gathered some kindling from the splintered tree; no sense letting it go to waste.

A stunned little black pig crawled out of Ryoga's now wet cloths. He lost his balance after freeing himself from the tangles, and collapsed onto Ranma-chan's feet as she crouched down to put some more wood on the fire.

"Damn you, Ryoga…why'd ya have to go and make me feel bad for pummeling your sorry ass." She picked up the shivering pig, and held him close to her chest. Poor P-chan just looked so adorably helpless. "Don't tell Akane, but I can see why she's head over heels for a little piggy like you," cooed Ranchan, as she gently stroked the rather large lump on his head.

She laid back on the grass, still cradling P-chan to her chest. Up here in these mountains, free from the light pollution and smog of the city, the stars seemed to burn brighter. And there wasn't a cloud in the sky to hide the beauty of the endless night sky. The stars were strange and unfamiliar from the ones she'd remembered from back in Japan, but certainly no less beautiful.

She let out a long sigh. P-chan bweed in agreement, having come to his senses enough to notice his surroundings but not enough to feel existential dread over being held so close by his eternal rival.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, with nothing to distract them from stargazing. Finally, Ranma-chan set P-chan down on the grass next to her. He seemed pretty lucid now, so she rolled over onto her side to stare down the little black pig.

He stared back, wondering what tortures were in store for him now.

"Ne, P-chan…if you breathe a word of this to anyone, you'll be a pork chop sandwich by the end of the day? Got it?"

He nodded, shuddering at the thought of what the violent red-haired girl would do to him.

"Good. If they see me being sentimental, they'll think I've really gone off the deep end." She sighed, and for a moment, Ryoga thought he saw tears in her eyes. "It'll be hard enough…without having to keep convincing them I'm still the same Ranma. And the weirdest thing is…I guess I'm kinda glad it was me, and not you or Pop that tried it first. At least I'm still human."

If Ryoga could have spoken, he would have said, "Who the hell are you and what have you done to Saotome Ranma?" As it was, all he could do is squeal in confusion.

She wiped some tears from her eyes. "Gosh, look at me getting all sappy like this. I don't know how the hell I'm supposed ta break this to Akane. She'll probably mallet me just on principle."

Ryoga grunted in agreement. As rough as his friendship with Ranma was, he often found himself pitying the poor boy whenever he inevitably put his foot in his mouth, or Akane misunderstood another episode of the humiliation conga of awkward positions that he got himself into.

Ranma-chan filled the kettle with some water from her canteen, and hung it over the fire. "Won't be long, and you'll be good as new, P-chan," she said, not caring if he was listening or not. As the kettle started to hiss, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. Light from the brisk little campfire was reflecting off something polished and metallic. When she turned to see what it was, her blood ran cold.

That damned sword…her hope turned to ruin…was lashed to her Pop's pack. The accursed bastard sword lay there, mocking her. Vein-popping anger washed over her. So, she did what any sensible protagonist would in this situation. Namely, she poured the boiling hot contents of the kettle onto her companion, and prepared to interrogate him.

"Ack…not so hot!" cried Ryoga.

And before he could even utter a word in his defense, Ranma-chan knocked him flat on his back. She loomed over him, pinning his shoulder to the ground with one hand while menacing him with the still mostly full kettle of boiling water with the other hand. "What is that thing doing there?"

Ryoga was torn between blushing over his nakedness…and the popped top button on Ranma-chan's silk tangzhuang that gave an all too good of a window to her ample cleavage…and trying to ignore his emotionally unbalanced rival humiliating him again. "Hey, what's your problem this time?" he shouted.

"I swear to God, Hibiki, if you don't tell me why that damned sword is in the Old man's pack, I will waterboard you with this boiling water!" The scowl on her face made it abundantly clear that she was not bluffing.

Ryoga gritted his teeth, as his rising anger started to wash away his embarrassment. Ranma had been a hard person to be friends with, but this was getting out of hand, and after all he was doing to try to help too. And Ryoga's chauvinism could only keep him from reacting for so long. After all, Ranma was really a guy, in spite of flashing his buxom chest right now, so it was okay to hit her, right?

Ryoga knocked away the water kettle, and trapped the arm she'd been holding it against her side with in a single fluid motion. He hooked his left leg behind her knee, and then with a quick roll, her power play was reversed. As a final touch, he trapped her arms above her head to minimize the violent redhead's ability to retaliate.

"Ranma…what has gotten into you? If you want to get mad at someone, get mad at the old man. Look, I know you're having a tough time right now, and that's why I ain't beating the crap out of you, but you're not normally like this."

Ranma-chan refused to look him in eye, tilting her head to the side and staring off into the forest. Her face was flushed with anger, and she was scowling…well, scowling as best as she could with as cute of a face as that. Rather than appearing properly enraged, her frown only seemed to make most people think she was just more adorable. She was acutely aware of all the times someone, whether strangers or even people she knew, patronized her when she had been in her girl form with phrases like "you're cute when you're mad." At least then she was a kettle of hot water away from correcting the problem. Now it was rather more permanent.

"This is humiliating," she though, devoutly refusing to acknowledge Ryoga's presence, "How'd I let him get the better of me? Now he's got me pinned, all because I let myself get distracted. Even worse, that jackass is being gentle with me, all because I'm a girl. Had I been a guy, he'd be wrenching my arm out its socket by now. Jerk…"

Ryoga took the opportunity to breathe a sigh of relief while Ranma-chan silently brooded. At least she stopped fighting back, even if she was ignoring him. "Look, if you think I'm going easy on you because you're a girl, you're wrong. I'm going easy on you because your head's not in the right place. It'd be meaningless to beat you while you're distracted like this."

Typical Ryoga, being patronizing to her in a moment of weakness. But as much as she hated to admit it, he was right this time. She'd let herself get strung out, and it was affecting her performance.

"Now are you going to be nice, or am I going to have to beat it into you?"

She sighed in frustration, before finally looking him in the eye. She didn't say anything…acknowledging his presence was enough of a concession to that idiot.

Ryoga nearly had a heart attack, as he noticed her pouty lips and half-lidded stare. He swallowed, wondering if she was doing this on purpose, or if she was just a natural at pouty, hard-to-get seductiveness. There was no doubt that Ranma's female form was beautiful. Hell, as much as Ryoga hated Ranma for using it against him, he couldn't deny that she was downright gorgeous; from her burning red hair, to her sapphire blue eyes, to her well-toned physique and her milky soft skin, she was a knockout.

It had always made Ryoga terribly uncomfortable, but never more so than now, as his gaze was irresistibly pulled from her full, pink lips, down across the smooth skin of her neck, to the flawless curves of her ample, exposed breasts—wait, how the hell did that happen?

As Ryoga stared in shock at her bosom, he was wondering exactly that. Because he had been too focused on his conflict with Ranma-chan, he'd failed to notice the remaining buttons on her tunic had popped in the tussle. And now he was frozen in shock, acutely aware of short distance separating his naked body from the exposed flesh of his rival's female half. As he tried to figure out a way to extricate himself from this embarrassment, he hoped it didn't get any worse.

There was a cough from the edge of the camp, followed shortly by a familiar voice. "Are we interrupting something, P-chan?"

Ryoga's blood ran cold, and as his heart skipped a beat, he wondered if it was actually possible to die from embarrassment. It might have been merciful compared to having to live this one down.

Ranma-chan was mortified as well. The pout on her lips twisted into rage, and she kicked him off as quickly as possible. Both of them protested "This isn't what it looks like!" simultaneously, naturally forgetting that it's never once worked in the past.

The male Ranma laughed as he watched Ryoga trip over himself to find his clothes. Genma was far from amused though, sighing into the palm of his hand. His chiseled features betrayed a level of unease that was far from common for the old thief.

"Guess I was right, Pop. She's just like one of the mirror copies. Look at how she was putting the moves on Ryoga the moment we turned our backs."

"Who are you calling a copy?" Ranma-chan demanded, as she nonchalantly buttoned up her baggy scarlet tangzhaung.

Genma groaned. Dealing with one Ranma was enough of a chore. With two of them, and one of them very bitter with the other, he was ready to run up the white flag right then. "Just stop it, boy. It's still half a day's journey back to that temple. We can get more answers there. Until then, just cool it."

"Cool it? How am I supposed to cool it when I'm stuck like this?" cried Ranma-chan. To emphasize her point, she cupped her breasts. It was an entirely unnecessary gesture, since her feminine figure was plainly visible even under baggy, oversized clothes.

Ranma tried not to laugh at her display, but he wasn't succeeding. He'd never realized just how silly he looked when he had done the same sorts of unfeminine things. But now that the curse was behind him, and only this strange brooding creature left behind as a reminder of it, he could fully appreciate just how silly his predicament had been. This curse-copy's sullen behavior was just too angsty. Whoever she was, he couldn't believe that it was another Ranma behind those blue eyes. Saotome Ranma would never behave this unmanly.

Ranma-chan noticed his stifled laughter, and it set her blood boiling. "And you! Wipe that dumb grin off your face before I do it for you! I swear, I will drag you back to Jusenkyo and throw you back into Nyannichuan. I'm sure Herb will be more than happy to help enlighten you about what it's like to be stuck as a girl forever."

"Oh yeah? You and what army?"

The two Ranmas fought each other to exhaustion. The several hours of fighting, both verbal and physical, ensured that no one got a good night's sleep that night. Ryoga and Genma had toughed it out as best they could, but it finally took threatening them both with no breakfast the next morning to get them to agree to a truce.

The weary travelers packed up camp in the morning, and began the trek back to the abbey. As they started their walk home, Ranma-chan always stayed at least ten paces behind the rest of the group, preferring to brood alone rather than have to deal with their derision or pity.

And so they marched onwards, through the stands of dry pine, and across the parched and rocky earth of the foothills. The desolate land was harsh in a way that they had little experience of. The midday sun began to beat down upon them mercilessly, and there was nary a patch of shade along the dusty trail back towards civilization. And so they retreated like whipped dogs, while nature punished them for their temerity in attempting to break the curse.

Or at least it seemed like that. Ranma-chan may have been self-absorbed, but she knew enough to try to resist the seductive narcissism of despair, in feeling that the gods and the world really was out to get there. She might have even succeeded, had the weather not been so damned hot, and with no reprieve to boot.

Cool water, once the bane of her existence, was nowhere to be found. The only source of desperately needed drinking water was a babbling brook fed by a spring further up the mountain, which Ryoga had found around three o'clock in the afternoon local time. It was a pathetic little stream, and its water was nearly as hot as the rocks it flowed over, which had been baking in the sun all day.

Yesterday had been cloudy enough to provide a pleasant experience on the hike up, and the clouds had continued into the night, providing a blanket effect on the normally cold mountain air, enough to keep the night relatively pleasant. But they had dissipated by first light, allowing the sun's rays to hammer down without relent, like the hammer of an angry god.

The sun had made life unpleasant. But the vast, emptiness of the terrain was another matter entirely. The wilds here seemed larger than life, and the great open spaces of the drylands threatened to swallow her whole.

Ranma-chan cursed her choice to sulk behind the rest of the party. As they faded into the distance, no more than tiny ants amidst titanic rocky hills and the endless horizon, silent tears ran down her cheeks.

She was alone.

Chapter Text

Given the circumstances, the transgendered redhead would have much rather have been alone. Forever. It was much more preferable to getting cooped up in a Catholic monastery deep in the Pyrenees with her father, Ryoga, and her male counterpart. Worse, the monks were nothing if not inquisitive, which was made all the more frustrating by the language barrier. They had spent the better part of a day poking and prodding at her as well as her male half, all the while wearing some quite concerned looks on their faces. They conversed with one another in a tongue she hadn't yet heard; it sounded alien, but somehow similar to the local languages of the area. Whatever it was, it was important, for when they spoke in that language their voices carried an almost reverent quality. She didn't know why, but something about it reminded her of the classical Japanese the teachers back home had tried to expose her to through so-called "classics" of Japanese literature.

While the monks performed their inquisitions, they insisted quite forcefully that Onna-Ranma stay seated, and separate from her male counterpart. Occasionally, Ryoga or Genma could be heard knocking from the other side of the reliquary's great wooden door, often demanding some sort of explanation. It was entirely useless, as none of them spoke a word of Japanese, but if anything it did at least make them feel like they were doing something. Which was good, she supposed. Things sucked right now, but she was still quite aware of how much worse they could get.

She was boring of this process quickly. The room smelled musty, the kind of smell that only truly ancient buildings had, regardless of how well they were taken care of. Since the room was adorned with strange symbols and icons she couldn't hope to understand, it went a long way to rubbing in that constant feeling of being lost far, far away from home.

After what seemed like an eternity, the monks began to depart, finally allowing her companions to see her. The thick wooden door was soon flung open as Genma barreled his way into the room, demanding to know the meaning of this. But his words fell on deaf ears as the monks filed out, for a smoke break or whatever it was that monks did. Ranma-chan certainly didn't know.

"Pops, don't make a fuss, I'm alright."

Genma tried to hide it, but there was a palpable look of relief on his face upon hearing those words. "Well boy, I can't entirely be certain, but I think the old white haired one said something about taking us to some airport and flying us back home. Which is good. The sooner we get back to Nerima, the sooner you can explain this whole dreadful situation to your mother?"

"Whoa, wait a minute, me explain? This was your crummy idea in the first place! Why should I have to explain this to her." Ranma-chan replied in a huff.

"It's very simple. You are her beloved child. She'll take the news better if you explain it to her."

"You mean that you'll avoid her wrath? Ain't gonna work, old man. You're in the dog house over this one." She wanted to sound sure, but in truth, she didn't' have the foggiest idea about how her mother would react. After all, mom had always wanted a daughter…

She shivered at the thought. Saotome Ranma couldn't ever be someone's daughter, no matter how female she was at the moment. It would just be too much, having the expectation of being a proper daughter for her mother. And at this moment, she really needed some air. Ignoring Genma's pontifications, she stormed out of the abbey into the courtyard. It was dusk now, and the cool mountain air was a welcome refreshment.

A deep breath of fresh air filled her lungs, and she began to relax. She didn't know or much care where Ryoga or her other half had gone off to. It was better to be alone at this moment.

Unfortunately, she wasn't. "Señorita Saotome, may I have words with you for a moment?" Great, it was the one monk in this whole place who could actually talk to her, however frustrating it was. She hadn't paid enough attention in English classes for this to be anything but painful.

"What do you want, baka? Come to poke at me more?" She normally spoke quickly when speaking Japanese, but speaking in English, she carefully formed her sentences, pausing often to make sure she was choosing the right word.

The gray-haired old man allowed himself a light chuckle. "No need to be so defensive, señorita, I meant no offense."

"Defensive?"

"Like you are prepared to fight."

"I…know what defensive means. So, what is it?"

"I just wanted to talk. You've been through a lot lately, and I can't help but feel partly responsible."

"Hikaemena hyōgen."

The old monk chewed over the moment thoughtfully. "I beg your pardon…"

Ranma-chan sighed with frustration. Lacking the words to convey what she meant was a bit like fighting with her strength totally sapped. "It means like saying something that is less than what it is," she offered, hoping it would be enough.

"An understatement, then?"

She nodded, then turned to lean on the weathered wooden fence separating the garden from the courtyard. Leaning as she did accentuated her cleavage, and were it not for the melancholy look on her face, one might think she was doing it on purpose. But Onna-Ranma neither realized nor cared at the moment. She just stared off into the distance, looking towards the ranges of the Pyrenees.

The old man evidently noticed, but he didn't stare. Well, not for too long anyway.

Ranma-chan apparently noticed. "Don't get too used to the view, I won't be here for long."

He played innocent, and copied her posture, leaning on the slightly rickety fence to stare off into space. After a quiet moment listening to the owls and other night fauna, he piped up. "Actually, mi amiga, I was thinking of how much of a man you still are in spite of all this."

Her curiosity piqued, Ranma perked up. "What is that supposed to mean."

"From what I can tell in our short time together, and hearing from you and your companions about your curse, you've shown extraordinary resilience of character."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not really sure. You are perplexing, and you've forced me to reconsider a lot of what I had assumed to be true about manhood and womanhood. I don't think you have anything to fear."

"That is easy for you to say, Spaniard." she scoffed.

The evening breeze was nice. Almost too brisk really. After a long, awkward silence, the priest stretched uncomfortably, his old bones aching with the weather. "Come inside, mi amiga, I'll make you some tea, and we'll see about getting you and your friends back home as soon as possible."

Ran-chan had somewhat reluctantly followed the old man into the monastery's kitchen. Tea sounded nice, and as much as she dreaded going home, she was anxious to get it over with as soon as possible.

Before long, the tea was on the stove and boiling. Neither said a word while the black tea steeped, and as soon as the kettle began to whistle, the wizened monk fetched some porcelain cups along with milk and sugar. He set a cup and saucer in front of where Ranma sat at the rough wooden table. He filled her cup before his own, then set the kettle back on the stove.

"It's probably not like you're used to, but I assure you it is drinkable," he said as he absentmindedly dropped sugar lumps into his cup.

Rather than brave an unknown tea, she decided to copy the Spaniard, adding milk and sugar to her own tea. The first sip was still too hot for her liking, but after a couple more sips she could appreciate the fruity, almost floral taste.

"How is it?" he asked.

"Different. But I don't mind."

"Good...so, about going home. We all feel partly responsible for what happened, we've decided to buy you and your friends plane tickets home to…Nerima wasn't it?"

She nodded silently, sipping her tea.

"Good, it'd be rather embarrassing if I had forgotten already. We'll have to get you to Barcelona first. And while you're there, since I expect it will be a day or two until your flight, I'd like to show you some things."

"What things?"

"Something to give you a little perspective. Maybe help you feel less like the world is ending."

"Whatever…" she scoffed.

They sat silently for a few more minutes, finishing their tea. She'd occasionally glance up at him, before returning to a pensive contemplation of her emptying tea cup.

"Ranma, I get a feeling there is a question you want to ask me."

Silently, she got up to pour herself more tea. She prepared it with almost mechanical efficiency, sitting down across from the old man again. "Ok, since you asked…just what the hell is the deal with that sword? The book that oyaji found didn't say anything about this!"

"The artifact you went in search of is the legendary sword Durandal. It is a legendary weapon, whose origins are shrouded in mystery. Some say it was originally the sword of the great hero Hektor of Troy. Others say it was forged by Wayland the Smith over fifteen hundred years ago, out of the same steel and temper as Joyeuse and Cortana. At any rate, it once belonged to the great hero Roland. When he was about to be captured by the Saracens, he attempted to break it so it wouldn't fall into his enemies' hands. But it proved too resilient, and he only succeeded in carving a great pass in the mountains. Finally, he threw his sword into a poisoned stream before succumbing to his wounds. There it remained, until it was moved to the shrine where you found it."

Ranma sighed with exasperation. "I've run into enough cursed artifacts back home, I guess it's only fitting I find one on the other side of the world."

"So…the man you travel with that turns into a panda because of the curse, he is your father, is he not?"

"Yeah. This isn't the first training journey he's brought me on, but I'm sure it will be the last," she said bitterly.

"So he's the one who taught you how to fight?"

She nodded silently. The details were irrelevant, and her father had been the one who trained her first and the most of all the various teachers she'd learned from.

"What about the rest of your family? Is your mother…still around?" the monk said delicately.

Ranma instinctively tensed up at the thought. Images of the seppuku contract and her mother's rather…eccentric ways flashed before her eyes. "Yeah…you could say that."

"Is she the reason why you dread going back?"

Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know. Finally, she settled on "Not really…there's someone else who I'd rather not have to face."

"Oh…mind if I ask who?"

"My…my konyaku— no koibito.(1) Sorry, I don't know the English word." She silently cursed herself…of all the words to not know, why this one."

"Well, perhaps you could describe this person to me."

"Her name is Akane…our fathers arranged for us to…" crap, another word missing, but she recovered, "join our two families before we were even born. I guess you could say she is like a friend but more important, though I have a hard time telling her that."

She shifted uncomfortably, thinking about it. What would Akane think of all this? The last wedding didn't work out, and now the cure turned out like this. A sudden unbearable thought crossed her mind. Her other half was cured…the last barrier to their marriage was gone. She wasn't needed anymore. Thinking about it hurt, almost to the point of wanting to cry, but she fought back the urge in front of this stranger.

"Oh, like a fiancée maybe? You're supposed to be married, hence why the search for the cure."

She nodded silently.

"And now you don't want to face her."

She nodded again.

"Well…I cannot pretend to know what you're going through right now. But it seems to me you shouldn't let your present condition get in the way."

That was…surprising to say the least coming from him. Ranma didn't know what to say, so she listened.

"A few hours ago, I don't think I would have said that. But your situation is unique, to say the least. Do you love her, this Akane?"

"Hai…er yes."

"Then show her. I don't think you have anything to lose."

A small chuckle escaped her lips. She tried to stifle the laughter, but it kept growing. She laughed so hard she lost her balance and fell off the bench. She landed on the cold floor with a thud, but that barely stifled the guffaws. As she caught her breath, in between gasps she said, "Oh wow…I'm getting relationship advice from a gaijin monk. Aren't you supposed to be, you know…single?"

"Actually, I'm a priest, not a monk. And I wasn't always a priest, I'll have you know."

Ranma got up and dusted herself off. "Oh, let me guess…'In my day I was soooo handsome.'"

Now he was indignant. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I was a strapping young man myself once."

"Whatever…"

Ranma-chan couldn't believe he'd let that old man talk her into this. Barcelona was a strange city, filled with people speaking a strange language she couldn't understand. The billboards and signs were all filled with familiar letters arranged in totally unfamiliar ways.

Not that it didn't have its charms, though. It was as loud and bustling as any Japanese city, and the people there seemed to be going about their daily lives in much the same way as back home. Riding the bus to the city's heart had shown her as much. But most importantly, in some strange ways she was not a center of attention in spite of being a foreigner. It was almost a relief.

Her female form's fiery hair and blue eyes made her look like a foreigner in her own country. Coupled with her natural beauty, and this always ensured she was the center of attention. But here, half-way around the world in this strange land, she could finally be anonymous. It was liberating really, though she was sure this wasn't quite what the priest had in mind.

He'd brought her here on mission. He'd decided that she needed to see something.

"So where are we headed, old man?" she asked as they disembarked from the city bus. Wherever they were, it was in an old part of the city. The buildings were old, made of stone or old weathered brick. The tan colors of the buildings shone quite brightly in the early morning sun, though there seemed to be just enough shade from awnings and gnarled trees to keep temperatures comfortable.

"We are heading into the Barri Gòtic, to a square called Plaça Sant Felip Neri. There is a memorial here I would like to show you, a place from my youth."

She followed several steps behind the priest, walking along stone paved streets. The cathedral and surrounding buildings they were walking to had seen better days. Ancient almost. "Just how old are you?"

"Old enough to have lived in a very different world. Come, the foot traffic is light today, but we shouldn't tarry."

They rounded a corner, following a narrow alley into the Cathedral square. The hustle and bustle of the modern city disappeared, replaced with a tomb-like silence. Not even the acacia trees were swaying in the breeze.

The façade of the old stone church was crumbling, with dozens of great pockmarks the size of grape fruit or larger pitting its sides. There was a weathered bronze plaque nearby.

Ranma walked over to the scarred stone wall. She delicately brushed her fingers across the broken stone surface, feeling the rough breaks and pits. She turned back to the old man. "What are you showing me?"

"The ghosts of the past. This is just a simple memorial to a shameful time in the past. One the world would like to forget. Ranma…when I was about your age, I wasn't a schoolboy, or off gallivanting across the world studying martial arts. I was a volunteer fighting in my country's civil war. Fifty years ago, a group of soldiers supported by various groups launched an attack on my country's democratic government."

Ranma didn't know much about history, especially outside of East Asia. But she knew enough to know how serious something like this was. Still, she was confused. Soldiers are supposed to protect a country, not attack it. "Why…why would they do that?"

"I suppose there were many reasons. All of them bad, but reasons nonetheless. Some of the leaders did it out of lust for power. Others did it out of a fear that the masses would limit their privilege now that they were organized. Some did it because they were told to." He joined Ranma at the wall, placing his hand next to the plaque. He closed his eyes solemnly. "In 1938, the Falangists demanded the surrender of this city. When they would not, they did what they had always done before. They began dropping bombs on the civilians. A group were taking refuge here in this church when a bomb fell on it. The basement collapsed, and around forty people were killed. Mostly children."

There was a definite hint of regret in the old man's voice. Enough that Ranma was almost afraid to ask her next question: "And which side did you fight on?"

Wordlessly, he began rolling up the sleeve on his right arm. There was an old tattoo on his bicep, a faded red three-pointed star. "The right side. The losing side," he replied mournfully. Anticipating her next question, "It's the symbol of the Popular Front, the side defending the democratic government and people of Spain."

The tomblike silence of the square was almost oppressive. "I think I understand why you brought me here," she said quietly, out of respect for the ghosts of the past. "The lesson you want me to learn."

"I figured it would be the best way to teach you, from one warrior to another. As a martial artist, you've honed your body and mind to fight. But you must never once forget to question why you fight." He began leading Ranma to a nearby bench, out of the shadow of the great stone wall. "What is the duty of the martial artist, Ranma?"

"Oyaji always said it was to protect the weak."

"No, the duty of those who can fight is to protect the innocent," he stressed, "strong or weak, honest or not. Always remember that. And remember that there is no shame in losing, especially when the cause is just. We must swallow our pride and do what is necessary."

She nodded in silent agreement. It seemed to make a whole lot of sense.

"There is real suffering in this world. You've experienced but a small portion of it. Don't get caught up in your own suffering and forget that others are also facing a tough life."

It was hard to admit, but she'd always been self-centered. And it wasn't going to change overnight. Still, it was something to think about. "Whatever you say, Spaniard."

"I told you, I'm not Spanish, I'm Basque. Not everyone from Spain is Spanish. Didn't your sensei tell you not to assume?"

The flight had been long. Going half way around the world was expensive, and the monks were cheap, so that meant many stops and many layovers. Flying coach no less. At least it had given her time to think. About how to break things to mom, where in the hell she fit in among the Nerima wrecking crew. Why on earth would they want two Ranmas, especially when one was most decidedly not marriage material anymore? She also dwelled on what the priest had tried to teach her.

Strangely, in all this time she hadn't spent much time thinking about why she fought. It was just a given. Fighting was as much a part of her life as eating or sleeping. She'd almost always fought for herself, for some personal goal of self-improvement or self-defense.

The old man had spent the rest of the day they had to kill in Barcelona showing her the poverty and squalor in the underbelly of the land of plenty. She'd seen inklings of this in Japan, but she'd never thought to look closer at the problem. It had been practically invisible.

She'd never given much thought to it. But that wasn't the problem. No one seemed to give much thought about what life was like outside their narrow horizons. It was a rough problem to dwell on, and it made her head spin.

But that would all have to wait. Because now they were ten minutes out of Tokyo, and it was time to pay the piper. She groggily unplugged her headphones from the portable tape player, and stuffed them into her carryon pack. Tired and jet-lagged to hell, and now she was going home.

At the least the window seat had been nice. Ryoga was still asleep beside her, drooling slightly onto the snoring Genma's shoulder.

A mischevious cat-like grin appeared on her face. "I wish I had a camera," she whispered.

She was quite surprised that her male half wasn't asleep as well. He replied, "It is quite a sight. Should we wake them, or just leave em on the plane, and see which country end up in?"

She laughed in spite of herself. Maybe the world wasn't over with after all.

Scratch that, it really was.

Why did it have to be Akane, of all people, who was there to meet them at the airport? Ranma-chan had been some ways ahead of the rest, looking for a familiar face in the busy airport terminal. That's when he'd seen her, waiting with Nabiki. Upon seeing the red-haired girl, Akane's face lit up with a warm smile. She rushed over to Ranma-chan, grasping her in a firm hug.

Ran-chan dropped her luggage, slowly wrapping her arms around the other girl. She held her tightly, squeezing the tomboy's toned body to her own. This was going to be difficult. A single silent tear streamed down Ran-chan's cheek as she fought back the waterworks. A single thought went through her mind: I failed you.

"Oh Ranma," cried Akane, "It's so good to have you back. You've been gone so long…I've missed you terribly. I don't care that you didn't find a cure, just don't leave again like that. I…I couldn't bear it!" Tears were welling up in Akane's eyes as well. Absence makes the heart go fonder, it seemed, and it was nice in this brief moment before the inevitable disappointment to not be fighting with her fiancé.

It was hard, but it had to be done. Ranma-chan pulled Akane away from her, holding her gently at the waist, and looking her straight in the eye. The truth had to be told.

Akane looked so happy to see her for once, it was a sin to ruin it. "Akane-chan…there's something I have to tell you."

She sensed something was wrong immediately. Akane's grip on her shoulders tightened, and the mirth on her face changed to worry. "What is it Ranma?"

"Yo, Akane!" said a familiar voice behind Ran-chan. She winced immediately upon hearing it.

Akane thought her ears were deceiving her. But as she looked over the red-haired girl's shoulder, a familiar black haired boy looked back her, a sheepish grin on his face. "Ranma…what's going on?"

Akane pushed Ran-chan away, stepping back in shock. Two Ranmas now stood side by side, both equally at a loss for how to explain the situation.

Chapter Text

Well, one disastrous reunion down. Now…how to break it to everyone else. As they rode the train to Nerima in silence, once again her mind wandered. Mostly about Akane, and by extension the rest of her family, but also about the rest of her friends. She wasn't the sharpest tack, but she knew a bit about how to read people. Mostly during a fight, but it also carried over into the rest of her life if she actually bothered to not go off half-cocked or be too bored to bother. And right now, she was stumped.

This wasn't just a matter of boredom though. It was an early morning train, not too crowded, but she elected to stand anyway, hanging tightly onto the overhead handhold. Standing helped her think at least. And this one was a bit of a doozy.

Every now and then, Akane would look up the train car at her. But it was the furtive kind of glance that someone did when they didn't want to look like they were looking at someone. Ryoga sat right beside Akane, in between her and the male half. He looked as lost as ever.

As for the boy who had the life she wanted, he was practically half asleep.

Pops had been surprisingly delicate to her during the whole affair. But Ran-chan could easily sense the truth. His ambition for uniting the two schools remained as strong as ever, and though this had created "unnecessary complications" (his words), he was quite content that a barrier to fulfilling his old promise to Soun was now gone.

That's what amounted to surprising delicacy for Saotome Genma. Overhearing that conversation with Ranma-kun had resulted in Ran-chan hurling the old bastard into a public fountain in downtown Barcelona. The resulting panic caused by an angry kung fu panda had not been her finest moment, but satisfying nonetheless. Working off some steam beating her old man to a pulp helped keep her focused.

Her thoughts kept drifting back towards her reunion with Akane. It was quite clear that she wasn't the one engaged to Akane anymore, and that hurt in a way she didn't fully understand. Meeting with Akane in the airport had felt like open heart surgery, and that bastard had ruined her one chance to explain thing things to Akane delicately. Not that it would have really mattered, really…sometimes it's just better to show rather than tell.

Akane had pushed her away in shock upon seeing two Ranmas. It wasn't hard for her to guess that the latest scheme for a cure had gone to shit in a truly spectacular manner. Akane had thrust her away amid the busy throngs of commuters, pained and shocked by the revelation. She'd asked them both "What's going on?" in terrified confusion.

Neither of them had a good answer at that moment. Ran-chan had lowered her head in shame, while Ranma desperately wracked his brain looking for a way to not be blamed for this. For either of them to be blamed.

"Look…Akane, don't go berserk just yet like you usually do!" he had protested.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Akane shouted back.

"Would you let me just explain?" he said in huff.

"Well then spit it out!"

"Don't blame me for this, it's not his fault," Ran-chan interrupted, "Wait, what I mean is don't blame him…I didn't do anything wrong…you know what I mean!"

Ryoga had caught up right now, and was trying not to laugh from the pronoun confusion.

"I don't care whose fault this is. I just want to know what's going on. There are two of you standing right here." Akane's gaze shifted back and forth between the two of them, as though she were looking for an imposter.

Ryoga had silently slipped behind them both, dumping a bottle of cold water over Ranma's head.

"Oi! What the hell was that for P-chan?!" shouted Ranma. He turned to glare at Ryoga, as though he were preparing for a fight.

"You should really be nicer to Akane, Ranma," Ryoga replied, as stern as a schoolmaster.

"Ranma…" said Akane, "Your curse…what's going on."

Ranma took a few deep breaths, getting his temper back under control from his instinctual but now totally unnecessary blowup from being splashed with cold what. Still he couldn't contain his giddiness as he said, "The curse is gone, Akane. I'm back to normal."

Ran-chan had seethed hearing it for the first time. She was seething sitting on the train thinking about the incident. "I am standing right here, you bastard," she had replied.

Now she was standing right there in the train, wondering if that's what her friends really thought about her. That she wasn't really Ranma, just his curse. A reflection of the person she'd once been. She didn't want to think about that possibility.

Ran-chan silently confronted the most deadly enemy she'd ever faced: the Tendo furo. Cursing silently, she slid the door closed behind her, and crept into the bathroom. On the road home, bathing had been quick and unceremonious. Cold water and swift bathing wouldn't invite contemplation. But here, oh there'd be time and opportunity to contemplate the full terror of her new existence. And the Tendo furo had always had a supernatural ability to attract hijinks of all kinds.

What it would be this time, it was impossible to know. All she could do was hope that she'd be alone, and not find Ryoga, Shampoo or Happosai or anyone else from the Nerima wrecking crew.

No sense in dawdling, she told herself. Just get in and get it done. Besides, she hadn't bathed since Barcelona, so it was time for a good soak. She stripped off her familiar red tangzhaung, leaving it in a crumpled heap at her feet. Next her baggy slacks puddled around her feet, and with them her boxers. Completely exposed and vulnerable in her nudity, she trembled for a moment before sitting at the shower stool.

She contemplated just getting it over with, and facing the hot water that wouldn't bring her masculinity back. But that just didn't seem right. Not now, after that heartwrenching reunion at the airport. If she was to live through this, she had to find a way to live with this.

The old man had met with her as kindred spirit, as a fellow warrior. He'd suggested, in his own way, to do what she'd always done best in this new life: fight. But not for its own sake, not for herself, but to fight for a cause greater than herself. But how could she do that if each day in this body felt like a prison?

No, sooner or later she'd have to have a truce with this feminine body, Ranma thought to herself, as she idly acquainted herself with her body. Her exquisite body, she quickly amended, as she ran her deft hands over her flawless skin and tight muscles. She laughed self-consciously as she caressed her own legs and toned abdomen.

"I guess it could be worse," she said, laughing nervously, "At least I get to be sexy. I don't know what I'm going to do with this body, but at least it's a good one."

Shapely curves, ample breasts, red hair and blue eyes? She could definitely think of worse permanent exiles than this one. Besides, what was so wrong about this body anyway? It took being confronted with the permanent loss of her masculinity through the Full Body Cat's Tongue to really even begin to think of her girl side as really her own body. And even then, it hadn't really been a complete realization. Living a short life time a man had always meant that her male body felt more real to her. More hers.

Her girl side had been a vacation from herself at best, and a curse all too often. It was nice to be able to cut loose, whether to exploit femininity or indulge in some ice cream. But now all that was left was the vacation property. Her home was lost to her forever. The inmates were running the asylum.

While she tried to remain stoically placid on the outside, on the inside she was a churning cauldron of mixed emotions sitting naked and exposed. Fear at facing her mother fought with a queer sense of relief at the prospect of not having to live up to anyone's expectation of what it was to be manly. But she felt emasculated at the same time, and for better or worse at this moment she felt that being male was right for her.

But that wasn't the worst part. Of all the people to have to meet at the airport, why did it have to be Akane? Akane was the one person in the universe she couldn't bear to disappoint anymore, not after all they'd been through in this crazy betrothal. Akane didn't deserve to have a freak for a fiancé...that was the only reason why she'd agreed to Pop's hare-brained scheme to go questing for yet another cure of the Jusenkyo curse.

She let out a loud, exasperated sigh just thinking about it. Now was time to start washing away her troubles, she thought as she shivered with barely concealed rage. Akane hadn't wanted him to go through with it, in spite of how annoyed she tended to be about the inconveniences and constant mishaps that her curse had seemed to attract.

Ran-chan started the tap, facing the onslaught of cold water from the shower head. Slowly the water turned tepid, then hot. She faced the stream of hot water like a condemned man facing a firing squad. The final confrontation with the truth had come. The curse was gone. Or rather, her whole life had become nothing but a curse.

After a quick rinse, she turned the tap off, and started lathering up the soap on her wash cloth. It was nice to get properly clean again, in spite of everything, and so Ranma-chan concentrated on that blissful feeling of cleansing, letting everything else fall to the back of her mind. It had been a while since she'd bathed properly as a girl, when she'd been under the power of the Locking Ladle.

She delicately washed her lady parts, feeling uncomfortable all the way. She hadn't gotten used to this part of her curse yet, and as far as she knew she never would. It just didn't feel right, and the minute amount of sexual thrill she'd gotten from exploring her female form's body had always been overpowered by the uneasy feeling that her body shouldn't be this way.

And it always made her feel like a pervert. She was a guy after all, and guys who got a cheap thrill from voyeurism, watching or touching a woman's body were perverts. And this didn't feel like her body yet, and perhaps it never would.

Not that she hadn't thought of pleasuring herself as a woman. As she was lathering the soap into the short red hair of her muff, she was thinking about it right now. Wondering what it would feel like, if it would be better, worse or different than as a man. But she resisted the urge of curiosity. Life had never been too keen on giving her privacy, and it wouldn't be a matter of if, but rather when she would be caught. She'd never live it down.

The door to the bathroom suddenly opened, and fast as lightning her hands moved away from her loins up to shield her breasts. She looked over her shoulder, shooting an evil glare at the door. Damn it, couldn't she have a bit of alone time right now?

It was Akane standing there, wearing nothing but a towel. She grinned sheepishly, and tip-toed into the immaculate tiled bathroom.

"Uwaa…Akane?! What are you doing?!" cried Ranma-chan.

Akane laughed uneasily as she slipped in to kneel down behind Ran-chan. "Ne, Ranma…I just wanted to…well, you know…see how you're holding up. I thought maybe I'd wash your back, and help you get accustomed to being a girl."

The feeling of Akane's surprisingly dainty hands on her back added to Ran-chan's unease. It was nice for Akane to not be so combative, but this was…well laying it on a little thick. Just like the soap Akane was aggressively lathering up on her back.

While she thought of a way to put her thoughts into words in a more delicate fashion so as to not ruin a beautiful moment by aggressively cramming her own foot in her mouth, Ran-chan let herself enjoy Akane's touch. There was a thrill each time skin touched skin, and even that tomboy's rough massaging motion felt oddly soothing. Ran-chan told herself it was because she was tough and could take her muscle-bound fiancée's (?) lack of daintiness.

But that seemed to be hollow, as she slowly turned into jelly under Akane's touch. It was hard to feel tough with this petite, buxom body. "Look, Akane…it's not like I don't appreciate it or nothing…but I'm still a guy at heart. Are you sure you want to do this."

Akane spun the redhead around, pulling her into kneel facing one another. Akane held onto her shoulders tightly so she wouldn't worm away from this. This girl needed someone to be firm with her about this. After a quiet moment, the blushing transgendered girl stopped averting her eyes, and looked straight back into Akane's eyes.

"Ranma…I know this is difficult for you to face, but you are a girl now. I'd…I'd be a crappy friend if I didn't help you adjust. And that means doing normal girl things with other girls. You don't have to be some reserved little yamato nadeshiko(1). You can be…well…an 'uncute tomboy' like me. But you're going to have to get used to being a girl." Akane tried her hardest to keep some levity in her tone, but it was hard. In truth, she wasn't entirely sure if she could truly see even Ranma's female form given life as really a girl, and she was fighting the urge to run away screaming 'pervert!'

The sense of partial responsibility for this outcome was what led her to bury this feeling and stay. She couldn't do subtlety…but she had to try something to make this sullen girl feel like she still had a place to belong.

And right now, the former guy was looking more feminine than she was. A little irksome, but it was hard to hate those big, misty blue eyes desperately fighting back tears, or those trembling pouty lips.

"Listen, Ranma…" Akane continued, cutting her off before she could interject, "I know this is rough, but you don't have to say anything. I…I don't want there to be anything between us anymore. We've fought and feuded for too long. We get on each other's nerves too much, but right now I am here for you. You don't have to put up a strong front for me anymore…I can't help but feel like this is partly my fault. Just please find the courage to keep moving forward."

Why did it have to take this for feuding to end? Ranma couldn't help but wonder if this karmic punishment for defying Jusenkyo's destiny.

"Akane…" whispered Ran-chan. The waterworks started, slowly at first, but with growing intensity. She hadn't felt like crying this hard anytime sense Mikado stole her first kiss. This girl who she'd been willing to die for, had fought for, even killed for, was right here at arm's length. She could reach out and touch…but then she'd only realize the light-years of distance between them now.

Ran-chan could feel it. A chapter of her life was ending. The journey that had begun a year ago with the Old man dragging her to the Tendo dojo to unite the Saotome and Tendo schools was coming to an end. All the fighting, all the bad blood caused by the betrothal, all the pain and heartache was over. All for nothing.

Akane pulled the sobbing girl into a tight hug. She forgot her modesty just for this moment, and forgot that Ran-chan had once been a man cursed to turn into a woman when splashed with cold water. A small voice in the back of her head warned her that Nabiki could burst in at any moment and take some compromising photos that would be sure to fetch an exorbitant price. But for the sake of the boy she had loved, now transformed into this sobbing emotional wreck of a girl, she ignored that dread.

She ignored her jealousy at the former boy's nicer figure, or her better toned body, and just held her close in silent embrace until the sobbing subsided. She could still feel the warm tears on her neck where Ran-chan had buried her face. She had to protect this emasculated boy's moment of weakness, and comfort her.

Akane rubbed her hand up and down the poor girl's back, soothing her cries. "Ne, Ranma…remember when we first met?"

Ran-chan slowly mimicked her motion. She nodded silently as the two started gently swaying back and forth to some unknown rhythm.

"I still remember it like it was yesterday. Daddy informed us that one of us would have to get married, and that his old friend was dragging our new fiancé to see us. Then he turned out to be panda, and there was this embarrassed red-haired girl standing there, saying 'sorry about all this.'"

Ran-chan allowed herself a small smile at that memory. It had been mortifying then, but in retrospect it was kind of funny.

"I was so happy to meet another serious girl martial artist. Even though you were so much better than me, it was so fun sparring with you," Akane whispered. "I knew instantly that we had to be close friends. I want to go back to that feeling…I don't want to fight and feud with you anymore. But like it or not Saotome Ranma, you're stuck with me for life."

Akane's words were meant warmly and sincerely, but they stabbed into Ran-chan's heart like an icy knife. Akane had finally confirmed her worst fear, which she had tried desperately to ignore or deny. Akane wasn't a pervert…she couldn't love another girl like she had once loved her as a boy.

She felt sick at the revelation. Her last hope was being snatched away. Not maliciously, but by someone with the very best of intentions. Had it been vicious, Ran-chan could have taken refuge in anger. But the only way forward now was abandoning hope.

No…not without a fight. She may have lost her masculinity, but she was still Saotome Ranma, and Saotome Ranma never loses.

Ran-chan gently pushed away. She had to say this to Akane's face, or it would be meaningless. Unconsciously, one hand went up to brush Akane's cheek, while the other fell to the small of her back. They were still close enough that their breasts pushed together, and they could feel the tickle of the other's breath on their lips. "Akane…I love you. I love you so much…I just…I just can't go to just being friends with you. I couldn't bear it."

Before Akane could respond, Ran-chan crushed her lips to her own, kissing the stunned other girl as passionately as she knew how. Her novice efforts were clumsy though, and kneeling together on the slick tile floor they quickly lost their balanced and tumbled down. Akane fell backwards with Ran-chan tumbling on top of her, their lips still pressed together, but before she smacked into the hard floor, Ran-chan caught their fall.

With one hand still cradling the small of Akane's back, and the other supporting both of their weight, Ran-chan gently lowered Akane's body to the floor. Now lying flat, their wet, soapy, toned bodies sliding effortlessly across each other, Ran-chan pulled Akane's body closer, deepening the kiss.

The kiss was a bit clumsy, and neither had much experience. But they both responded to it, their lips inviting more. Akane too pulled Ran-chan close in a moment of mindless bliss, raking her nails across the redhead's back while their lips, and then tongues, danced together for a few fleeting moments.

For that fleeting few moments, it felt like victory. But it wasn't to last. Akane slowly regained her senses, and gently pushed Ran-chan away. Gasping for air, Ran-chan looked into Akane's eyes. Akane saw a hurt, scared and lonely girl looking down at her. It felt like betrayal.

A terrified girl was looking up at Ran-chan. Akane may have pushed her friend away slowly, but the grip she had on Ran-chan's shoulders was positively tense. In between ragged breaths panting for air, the frightened girl swallowed nervously, but she didn't push Ran-chan any further away.

"Akane…I'm not trying to mess with you or anything…I meant what I said," Ran-chan whispered, "I love you more than I can say. I'm not good at expressing it, but please believe me when I say that it doesn't mean I don't feel. When I thought you had died…when I thought I was too late in defeating Saffron…I felt like crawling into a hole and dying. I don't want to be just friends with you…I'm sorry for this I guess, but I can't regret…I just guess I though you loved me…"

The fear in Akane's face turned to anger. "Ranma! How can you say that…after all this! Of course I love you!"

"Then why? Why are you pushing me away? Why did you look so scared?"

"I'm sorry…but I just can't do these sorts of things with another girl. Had any other girl tried to kiss me, I'd have sent her flying and ran away. I'm not running away because I love you. I just can't be…intimate…with another girl."

Ran-chan's heart wilted at that. Akane's kindness was continuing to be surprisingly cruel. And she couldn't deny it. Even without the constant insinuations the tomboy had gotten about her sexuality, Akane probably wouldn't have ever been attracted to girls. And because of it…she was remarkably sensitive about being thought of as a lesbian. Being betrothed to an aquatranssexual hadn't helped that insecurity.

The last desperate gamble had come up short. The tomboy had been momentarily surprised by the depths of her passion, and had allowed herself to forget for a moment the simple biological facts that stood between them. Their mutual feelings had finally been confirmed, but it was too late. It always had been too late.

What was their left of their relationship? Without love, without the engagement, who were they to each other? Going back to that first moment, back to being friends without any complications? Ran-chan hoped she could live with that.

Chapter Text

Nodoka had thankfully been out of town visiting some old friends, and wouldn't be back for another couple days. This gave them all a reprieve from returning straight home and informing the Saotome matriarch that she now had two children instead of one. A reprieve that Genma, much to Ranma-kun's irritation, had already chosen to spend boozing with Soun.

Not that he'd admitted as much. Rather than return home immediately upon their plane's arrival in Tokyo, Genma had decided that his old friend Soun needed to be informed of this development immediately. Undoubtedly to find some way to advance their mutual marriage plans Ranma suspected.

Well, what's one more embarrassment today? He stepped off the train, pushing his way past morning commuters groggily heading to work. Coming home was never very relaxing; it meant stepping back into a spider's web of complications. Just who would be the one to accost them on the way to the Tendo dojo today? It wasn't a very long walk, but trouble seemed to be supernaturally attracted to him, especially within Nerima.

The coast was clear, and finally he allowed himself to enjoy the sweet morning air.

That was when he finally noticed Ran-chan standing on his left. He instantly recognized the look on her face. It was the same attentive, annoyed look he was wearing; the "where is the next annoyance going to come from look" that he'd had abundant practice with.

That was…uncanny to say the least. Rather than wait for the rest of the group, he decided to start walking toward the Tendo dojo and get this over with.

As he left the busy train terminal, he noticed another set of footfalls, slightly lighter than his own to his side. He'd been too busy looking out for a bicycle riding, ramen delivering Amazon to notice that Ran-chan had started the trek home as well.

"Are you following me?" they both said simultaneously.

That was a fluke. It had to be.

"I asked you first!" they chanted in unison.

Alright, now this was annoying. Vein popping irritation took over, and he stopped walking to face this strange doppelganger. Who had apparently had the same idea, and had decided to face him down.

It was almost like looking in a mirror. He still, on some level, recognized the face looking back at him as "his" face. But it wasn't really his anymore.

When he had first seen his double after using the artifact sword, it had never occurred to him that she might have his memories and his personality. Upon pricking his finger on the razor-sharp edge of the sword, he had felt a rush of ki flowing out from his body. The discharge had apparently been fast enough and violent enough to be visible to onlookers, a stream of bright light rushing out from his body.

He had momentarily lost consciousness, and when he came to he was male again. It was almost too much to believe, and in the rush of moment he had completely ignored his surroundings. He grabbed a canteen from his pack, and with a mixture of excited hope and dread he emptied its contents on his head. To his great joy he had remained male. Only then had he noticed the unconscious redhead.

"Well crap," he had thought. Just what he needed was some catch to a good thing. His life had enough complications in it already, and yet here's another one.

Copies were never a good thing. His giddiness at being cured evaporated instantly, and all he could do was dread whatever embarrassments this copy would foist upon him. Would this be a repeat of the amorous mirror clones? Or worse, she could be his evil twin, a veritable child of the damned with no other purpose than to cause mischief.

It had taken time over their meandering journey home, but he'd slowly stopped being so combative with his copy. She'd proven to be rather more mundane than the usual affair. She was a sullen, moody and violent tempered tomboy, so just like most of the female martial artists he knew. By the time they had left Barcelona, he'd come to the conclusion that she was like the sister he'd never had, a strange woman created from the magic of the curse and Durandal given life. Lost and confused, yes, but still relatable.

So as he stared at this face that had been once his, a little voice in the back of his head said "You're such an ass, Ranma." It all fell into place, and finally he noticed the pattern. Her behavior, her bitterness towards him, her refusal to be called a copy, the way she looked at him with eerie familiarity: she was on some level the same person as him.

No, it couldn't be. Then that would mean she had all the same memories, and the same personality as him. That can't be true, can it?

Oh shit.

She wasn't pushing people away because she didn't know them and had only come into being a few days ago. She was pushing them away because she knew them. Because, deep down, he had to admit to himself, he'd probably be just as scared, angry and depressed over losing his identity and masculinity to another Ranma.

He finally noticed he'd been staring for an uncomfortable length of time.

"What? S'there somethin' on my face?" said Ran-chan. She cocked her head, wondering just what the hell was wrong with him.

"Oh…nothing." He turned away, and did his best to pretend he didn't just have a life shaking epiphany.

"Whatever dweeb, let's just get on to the Tendo's and get this awkward crap over with."

Another little voice told him that now would probably be a good time to apologize to his other half for not realizing until now just what she was going through. Shit, Pop and Ryoga had to at least have suspected as much. Ranma had just figured that all the times that Pop had called the red haired girl "son" had just been force of habit. Ryoga had seemed to treat her the same as he'd always treated his girl side. Apparently they had figured it out before he did.

Though, in his defense, she hadn't exactly been very open to anyone. She was pissy and combative, and he really hadn't had the patience or the energy to bother asking her "just who are you, really?"

He started off after her, but wisely chose to keep a wide berth for the walk home. Luckily, they managed to avoid attracting any calamities their way, though the weather decided to turn sour once more for old time's sake, ensuring that they'd both arrive soaked by the pouring rain.

When they arrived at the Tendo residence, they let themselves in without knocking. At this time, anyone at home would be sitting down to breakfast, and it would be rude to disturb them, right? Kasumi worked hard enough as it was without having to answer the door in the middle of breakfast.

They walked silently into the dining room. Soun was sitting cross legged at the table, nonchalantly puffing away at a cigarette while reading the morning paper. Kasumi was just sitting down on the adjacent side of the table, getting ready to start serving breakfast. Upon noticing the two dripping wet Ranmas, Kasumi turned white as a sheet.

"Hey…Tendo-san, we're back," said Ranma.

Soun puffed away, not tearing his attention away from the newpaper. "Ah, Ranma my son, sounds like you've got your masculinity back. Congratulations son, though I'm sure Kasumi would appreciate it if you didn't drip all over the floors like that."

"Um, father, perhaps you should put the newspaper down," Kasumi said, managing to remain as demure as she could with the look of shock on her face.

Ran-chan cleared her throat. "Yeah, you see…about that…" she said.

Soun continued to devoutly ignore such distractions that threatened to tear him away from the masculine bliss that was the morning paper reading ritual. "Ah, and now you've lost it again son. You really should keep better track of your things."

"Daddy, put the paper down and look!" shrieked Kasumi.

Soun finally looked over his newspaper. He saw two Ranmas, one male and one female, staring back at him rather sheepishly.

"But…how…with the rain…now there's two of you…what's going on…oh dear I've gone cross-eyed…" was all he managed before passing out.

When he came to his senses near half an hour later, the rest of the travelers had trickled in. Both Ranma and his father were sitting next to Soun, waiting impatiently for him to get it out of his system. Nabiki was nowhere to be seen, though he vaguely recalled Genma talking about her being somewhere with that Ryoga kid, interrogating him about the trip. Akane too was missing, and so-was the red-haired girl Ranma.

"Oh…how will the household budget survive two Ranmas?" Soun moaned loudly. "We'll be down to rice and pickles before the end of the month!"

"Quit yer bellyaching Tendo, we've got something to discuss," said Genma. He absent mindedly pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, the exasperation with Soun's antics plain on his face.

Soun wearily sat up, stretching his old muscles. "Saotome my friend, like you really have much room to talk."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Soun fished the soft-pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, momentarily grateful that it hadn't been crushed. He lit up a one of the old-style non-filtered cigs before handing the pack and lighter to Genma. He took a long drag, breathing out a plume of smoke that would have looked more at home on his demon-head technique.

Genma swiftly lit up a cigarette as well, something which piqued Ranma's curiosity. His father wasn't a smoker as far as he knew, and in fact he hadn't ever really seen him partake. Genma silently offered the pack to Ranma, but he politely declined. With a shrug that said "Suit yourself," Genma returned the pack to its owner, breathing out long wisps of acrid smoke.

"I take it we have something important to discuss, Saotome," Soun said.

Genma coughed slightly, unaccustomed to the rough cigarettes. "Indeed, Tendo. As you can probably guess, my plan has half-succeeded."

"Is that what you're calling this, Pop?" Ranma snarked.

"You're here," Genma said, "and you're cured. I'd call that a big plus. But, on the other hand, I seem to have acquired a daughter along the way. She hasn't told me as much, but I suspect that just as she has Ranma's curse, she also has his memories and personalities. So what I'm saying is that she is another Ranma, only permanently female."

Soun exhaled another great lungful of smoke. "Does Nodoka know yet?"

"No, she doesn't." Genma studied the cigarette intensely before taking another drag. After a short fit of coughs, he said, "I suspect I may be a dead man."

"Indeed, Saotome." Soun flicked the cigarette over the ash tray. "You're welcome to stay here to ride the storm out."

"No, I don't think I'll being that." Genma had given up on smoking properly, and left the burning cigarette handing in his lip as he talked. The rough smoke tickled his nose, but at least it wasn't giving him coughing fits. Ranma though had to try to not laugh at how funny his voice sounded talking through pursed lips. "I can't keep this from my wife forever. The Saotome Secret Technique has its uses, and besides, she made it quite clear before we left for this trip that she wanted to spend some time with our son. We will be staying at our home. Though it appears that Ranma has a favor he'd like to ask of you."

"Indeed, we'll get to that in a minute, son," Soun said, smiling at Ranma. He couldn't help but be in a bit of a happy mood. Perhaps their next attempt at uniting the two schools wouldn't be so disastrous. "What about the…erm, the girl?"

"That's the favor I was going to ask," said Ranma. "It's just that it's hard enough having one of me around. We…we don't seem to be getting along to well, and if I know anything about her, it's that she's afraid of confronting mother…so could she stay with you for the time being? If it helps any, I think Akane would like this too. She said she wanted to help me…er her get accustomed to being stuck as a girl."

Soun thoughtfully puffed away on his cigarette for a moment. "Well, that seems reasonable," he muttered. "Having one extra mouth to feed, even if it is a Ranma sized appetite, is easily doable. She can stay here as long as she needs to. As far as I'm concerned, Saotome, your daughter is my daughter. Where is she, by the way?"

Kasumi, angelic as ever, descended in with some cups and a tea kettle. "Oh, it's good to see you're up now, father. Onna-Ranma is taking a bath right now. She said she didn't get a chance to shower at the hotel before boarding."

Ran-chan and Akane were taking a melancholy soak in the furo about this time. They had been sitting in silence at opposite ends of the tub for around five minutes. On some level, an invisible line had been crossed, though neither knew what that boundary had meant. What it meant was a mystery, but it wasn't hard to see that things were going to be changing. For the both of them.

Ran-chan had confirmed what Akane had desperately wanted to believe was true. That she hadn't just been hearing things at Jusendo. It also confirmed what she had been dreading. Ranma had not been able to really be true to himself…to herself…quite yet, and had tried to deny his confession. Whether it was because of embarrassment or fear it didn't matter. It had hurt all the same.

Ranma never really tried to hurt her feelings, but somehow that boy always had been quite adept at verbally wounding her. It was mostly due to carelessness, but in the end that didn't really matter. A kid raised his whole life based on the adage "sticks and stone may break my bones but words can never hurt me" to be a strong and self-reliant martial artist couldn't understand the deep emotional scars that careless words could leave. Even though he had quite a few himself.

Those psychological wounds were becoming quite visible now though. Whatever fears and doubts Ran-chan had weren't recent problems. They'd been there all along, and had been simmering barely contained under the lid for as long as she had the curse. Now that her male half was entirely lost to her, they couldn't be hidden any longer.

This silence was getting annoying. Akane wanted to talk about what just happened between them, but she was afraid it would only make things worse. But each casual glance over at Ran-chan made it clear that something had to be said. The poor girl was curled up, her knees pulled close to her chest. She seemed lost in thought, but the subtle quirks of her face that practically anyone but Akane would have missed betrayed everything.

Maybe words weren't what were needed, Akane wondered. Whatever became of their relationship, she would never forgive herself for doing nothing if Ran-chan slipped away. Gathering her courage, Akane slid to the other end of the Furo, sitting down next to the placid redhead. She put an arm around Ran-chan's shoulder, and with her other arm, she gently turned the other girl's head towards her own.

In many cultures, the eyes are considered the windows to the soul. It seemed apt, and for Akane a conversation held eye-to-eye was the most meaningful. Ran-chan had acquiesced easily enough, which was surprising in itself.

For a second, Akane had to remind herself that her own wonder at that girl's vibrant sapphire eyes was a purely aesthetic admiration and not something more primal. Ranma's eyes, whether as a man or a woman, were their best features. Akane cleared her throat nervously. "I mean what I said earlier," she whispered. "I am not letting you go. No matter what. You are too important to me, and we've been through far too much together, for me to let you slip out of my life."

Ran-chan sighed wistfully. A smile slowly appeared on her face. Slowly her flawless pink lips parted, revealing pearly whites as she chuckled. "Whoa slow down there Akane…don't stare at her cute lips, no matter how much fuller they are than yours. The last thing she needs is for you to be…jealous, yeah that's it, jealous of her beauty."

Ran-chan just stared back into Akane's eyes for a long moment. The red-haired girl swallowed hard, as her eyes darted back and forth between Akane's lips and her soft brown eyes. She nervously licked her own lips. "Akane…I don't want to lose you either. But won't things just get awkward because of…you know…love, attraction and stuff?"

Akane had guessed as much. And she couldn't lie…it was going to be awkward. "We've come this far as awkward friends. I don't see any reason for us to not be friends just because the cat is out of the bag, and you're a lesbian now."

Ran-chan's nose wrinkled at the dropping of the l-word comment. Her mouth opened as though she were about to protest, but no words came out. Yeah, Akane could agree that the word didn't exactly fit. But it was the only word she knew for it. And regardless of the larger truth, it would be what the rest of the world would see.

"I guess…if I can be okay with being a woman, being okay with being called a lesbian should be a cinch." Ran-chan laughed a bit. "Damn, I've certainly been called worse things than that. And you say it so lovingly Akane-chan…I'll be your little hopeless lesbian friend. Maybe they'll write a sitcom about us."

They both laughed. Maybe this would work, there could be a light at the end of the tunnel. When the laughter subsided, there was a quiet moment of mirth before Akane pulled the redhead closer to herself. After what had happened before, there was really no sense in being physically awkward. Still, she was careful to not send mixed signals…they were, tragically, two friends in the bath together. "Okay, so we're a sitcom. What happens next, Ran-chan?"

"I think this is the part where we're supposed to compare breast sizes." Akane's stifled giggling only encouraged her to take this ball and run with it. "Yup, it's totally an important part of female skinship to grope and fondle each other's breasts, and then fawn over whoever has the largest ones. Though I think we already know who wins, so we could just skip straight to the fawning."

Akane's giggles were uncontrollable; "Oh stop it, Ran-chan!

"Huh…" she replied.

"Huh what?"

"You called me Ran-chan again….Well, it's just that 'Ran-chan' is usually what Ucchan calls me. Just feels kind of strange for someone else to call me that." Surely enough, she fidgeted a bit as she laid out her concerns.

"Well, if you don't want me to, I don't have to call you Ran-chan."

"Actually…I kinda like it. It's short and sweet. Besides, you're going to have to come up with some way to differentiate me from him, so if I had to choose, I'd guess I'd choose Ran-chan."

"Hmm," Akane said pensively. "I guess you're right. And I take it that calling you Ranko is out of the question?"

"Definitely! Being 'Ranko' always meant pretending to be someone else. I ain't giving up my name…it's just something I can't do. And if he wants to fight me for it, that's how it's gonna be."

"I guess you're right," Akane chuckled, "I'd rather forget that horrible web of lies we spun to your mom before you revealed the truth to her. That was not our finest moment, even if we didn't have much of a choice."

Ran-chan shuddered just thinking about it. Akane could have kicked herself for bringing it up. With the seppuku contract fiasco, it wasn't hard to guess that she was afraid of her mother. But not just because of that. Being Ranko, the tomboyish Tendo family cousin to fool his mother had quickly led to Ranko being a surrogate daughter for Nodoka. And this was always a curious mix of agony and ecstasy for Ranma.

One the one hand, Nodoka always insisted on trying to get Ranko to be something she wasn't. But Ranma loved his mother, and missed her dearly, and seemed to be capable of going great lengths to please her, and gain her affections.

"I dunno what I'm gonna do about mom, Akane," said Ran-chan. Her voice was somewhere between a whisper and a normal volume, low and flat almost like a groan. She sank deeper into the water, sliding down until her mouth was barely above the surface. "I mean, I'm not really worried about having to commit hara-kiri…okay, maybe the thought has crossed my mind. It's just that mom's always wanted a daughter. And I guess now she's got one, and I'm afraid it'll be Ranko all over again. I can handle her trying to make me a proper lady…it's just that I'm afraid that after a while, I might start wanting to be a proper lady."

It was slightly thrilling to be able to guess as much, but Akane figured it was more important for Ran-chan to say it out loud on her own.

"I don't think you have to worry about that, Ran-chan."

Akane smiled down at the red-head. Ran-chan must have caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, because she quickly turned towards Akane. Noticing the sweet smile, she smiled as well, albeit a bit reluctantly. Sometimes it's nice to have a vote of confidence.

"Come on, you uncute tomboy! let's get out of the bath before we turn into prunes," said the dark haired girl. In a flash, she was out of the tub, with Ran-chan hot on her tail. It was nice to throw that one back in her face just once.

"I admit, I deserved that one," Ran-chan laughed, "Doesn't mean I'm gonna let you get away with it!"

Chapter Text

Another day, another agony. The morning light brought a new set of embarrassments. It was bad enough to have missed the first week of the new school term, but now Ran-chan would now have to let the cat out of the bag to the whole of Furinkan. A veritable humiliation conga awaited, and she'd be led through the gauntlet that was the high school's dysfunctional student population.

The leers from the male population she could deal with. By now, most of them knew better than to get too fresh with Saotome Ranma, and it wouldn't take too much reminding to reinforce the lesson now that she was permanently a buxom red-haired hotty. And she figured that at least Hiroshi and Daisuke would still likely treat her as one of the guys, just like they'd always done before.

It would be the female population that would be harder to deal with. The normal resort of physical violence wouldn't work, and the thought of getting violent still seemed wrong somehow to her. Dealing with the gossiping, the exclusion, and the backbiting...that would be difficult. Ran-chan shuddered just thinking about it as she walked briskly to school, foregoing the normal fence-walking. She was going off the edge of the map, into uncharted territory.

The weather was cooperating this morning, only adding further insult to injury. Pops had always said that it rained on the just and the unjust alike, but now that the curse was split, she wasn't getting rained on or randomly splashed anywhere near as often. She clenched her teeth, swearing under her breath. Apparently, the curse had affected the weather. Or maybe she just liked being the center of the universe. She didn't want to dwell too much on that recent doubt.

The front gate to Furinkan was in sight, and there stood Kuno Tatewaki like a guardian statue as he awaited his beloved tree-born kettle girl.

Ran-chan rolled her eyes, and continued onwards, thrusting her dainty hands into the pockets of her baggy pants. The wind whistled mournfully through the trees, rustling a flurry of sakura petals through the air. This would be a stand-off that required suitably dramatic music, the kind normally reserved for classic samurai movies.

Behind Kuno, a small gathering of students awaited with breathless anticipation. The showdown of love, the battle of romance that was their morning entertainment would soon begin, and they waited with voyeuristic glee for the opening bout of a new season.

Ran-chan's walk slowed to a more deliberate pace. Her nonchalant attitude exuded confidence, but on the inside she was like a coiled viper preparing to strike, boiling with pent up energy. She stared him down, menacing Kuno with a look that could kill. She strode on, perfectly fine with stoically walking right past him.

Kuno was not fine with this. "Oh! My beloved pig-tailed girl, oh how have I missed your beautiful radiance! Come to me, and let us never be parted again! Our love will guide us into this bright, new day!" As he spoke, he gesticulated wildly, borrowing all the drama and gravitas from classical kabuki theater. Stealing, really, given how low his real ambitions were. Ranma wasn't exactly the most pious person, but something about Kuno's habit of summoning up allusions to classical Japanese poetry for what amounted to nothing more than a booty call given his lack of commitment just seemed wrong.

"Not in the mood, Kuno," she deadpanned. With a quick feint jab with her power hand, she set up for a southpaw power strike with her off-hand. The power behind a kempo punch comes from the legs, and she gave this one all of her might, springing forward like a rocket.

Kuno deftly ignored the feint, and in a single fluid motion, parried the follow-up, pulled Ran-chan off balance, and caught her before she fell.

It was all so fast that she could barely accept what happened. Kuno cradled her like some dainty little shrinking violet, caressing her cheek. She was livid, and positively squirming from his touch, but too stunned to do anything about it.

"How fiery thou art, my dearest thunderchild! Quick as the lightning, but soft as a wild orchid! There is no need to put up the act any longer! You've already shone me your true feelings, and I know that your heart aches for me!"

"Aches for venge—mumf!"

Ran-chan tried to struggle, tried to fight back verbally, but before she knew it, she was pressed against the stone wall, Kuno's body pressed firmly against hers. His lips captured hers in a furious embrace, silencing her protests. His hand slid down her body, stopping only for a single squeeze on her butt before continuing down her thigh. He lifted her leg, and ran his hand back up the smooth skin of her thigh, hiking up her skirt.

His pelvis ground into hers firmly, and she found herself unable to stop him. It wasn't that she lacked the strength...her body betrayed her. To her shame, all she could do was hold onto his broad, muscular shoulders as he kissed her deeply. His touch felt pleasant, and that disgusted her. The rational part of her, well. All the while, the on-lookers oohed and awed at the amorous display.

It took her entirely too long to find the strength to throw him off. Her body fought her every step of the way. Pushing his lips away from her left a strange yearning. She ignored it, uppercutting him with all her fury. He could neither parry nor dodge, and the shock forced his grip to release. Another blow to the solar plexus and knee, and she was free.

Not from the laughter and the leering though. Kuno may have been floored by her assault, but he was steadily getting himself together. She panicked under the onslaught of jeers about the "boy-girl" and "cross-dresser". Seeing no other option, she fled towards Furinkan, running through a gauntlet of faceless, laughing students. She had to run, had to hide somewhere, and in the maze of halls she might lose the crazed aristocratic kendoist. But he was gaining on her, and the doorway to Furinkan seemed to never get any closer.

She shook off the feeling, her mind must have been playing more tricks on her. After what seemed like an eternity, she burst through the doors, and bowled through a group of female students. The clique of hapless first-year girls were knocked over without much ceremony, twirling across the floor like tops. "Sorry!" she shouted, sliding across the slick linoleum as she turned the corner. She didn't slow her pace, and she wasn't above knocking people over to get away. Up and down stairs, in and out of classrooms, and through hallways she fled, and all the while Kuno chased her, shouting for his beloved pig-tailed girl.

Getting desperate, she jinked to the left at an intersection of two hallways. Just out of his sight around the corner, she leaped straight up, punching through the sub-ceiling. She clung to a water pipe, and quickly shoved the displaced insulation tile back into place. She heard Kuno thunder past below, and then quietly slipped into a ventilation shaft.

It was a tight squeeze. Her wide hips and full bosom made slipping through the shaft difficult, but not impossible. She took her time, and made sure to do it in absolute silence. It took her almost ten minutes to find a suitable vent to drop down through. All the while, she heard Kuno race under several times as he desperately searched for his beloved pig-tailed girl.

If she remembered correctly where she was, and didn't get herself turned round, the vent would let her out in a supply closet that was always locked. Good, a nice place to hide and never come out from. After the earlier shameful display, she just wanted to disappear. Forever.

She slid out of the surprisingly clean ventilation shaft head first. For all she knew, keeping them squeaky clean was just another affectation of Principle Kuno's madness, and she didn't want to dwell on that. Then she got stuck.

Her butt was just a little bit too big for this opening, and she didn't have the leverage to push through. She tried to get some purchase with her feet so she could just push off, but the shaft was too narrow. She was left with wiggling, and trying to push with her arms.

The wiggling seemed to be helping. After a couple a minutes, her skirt pulled through, revealing a delicate pair of lacy feminine panties. In a moment of distraction, she wondered why she didn't remember putting them on this morning.

She finally squeezed free during this distraction, and landed awkwardly in a heap on the floor below. She was dazed only for a moment before she jumped back up on her feet. She brushed herself off, and straightened her sailor fuku. "Huh...I don't remember Furinkan switching uniforms," she whispered to herself.

The closet was dark, only the barest of outlines could be seen with the tiny amount of light that filtered through the cracks between the door and the frame. It looked like sports equipment: balls, hurdles, mats and the like. She quickly tested the light switch, but either the bulb was missing or burned out. She couldn't tell in the darkness. The door was locked too, which meant that Kuno wouldn't suspect here. She could ride this out and slip out while class was in session.

She walked towards the back of the closet to find a nice mat to sit on. Then she bumped into someone. In the panicked confusion, their legs caught on one another, and down they went down onto a rolled out exercise mat.

Ran-chan felt the weight of a somewhat bony, angular body pressing down on hers. As he stirred, she got a glimpse of his face. "Hiroshi?" she whisped, "What are you doing in here?"

For some reason, her words turned his warm smile into a look of hurt. He looked down at her with forlorn eyes, his lips slightly quivering. "Didn't you get my note? The one I left in you shoelocker?"

"Note?" she said, "What note? I've been kind of busy this morning...I haven't exactly had time to look there." The explanation was more of a desperate attempt at fast-talking him than a genuine attempt at informing while she tried to figure out why the hell Hiroshi would need to leave her a note, and why he'd go such a circuitous route to get her a message. After all, they had homeroom together.

"Ranma..." he said solemnly, "I have something I need to confess. I love you! I've loved you for a long time now...you're so beautiful and vibrant and I just can't bear to be without you. And now that you're permanently female, I can't fight it anymore! Please accept my feelings!"

"What." Just a simple flat what. She was too stunned do anything, let alone respond any further. Like getting punched by Muhammed Ali, dividing by zero, warp core breach, this does not compute, etc., pick your metaphor.

He saw his opening, and he took it. He kissed her, delicately at first, but with mounting passion. Her body betrayed her once again, the nauseous pleasure from his touch was almost unbearable. One half of her wanted to throttle the life out of him for his temerity, and the other half could only look back up at him with half-lidded bedroom eyes. As his hands began to roam, caressing her breasts through the thin fabric of her blouse, she moaned in spite of herself. She wanted it to be a scream.

It was still dark in the early morning when Ran-chan awoke with a seriously unmanly shriek. She shot upwards out of the futon. The coil of blankets from her tossing and turning in the night tripped her as she tried to stand, and she came down face first onto the tatami mats of the Tendo guest bedroom. She disentangled from the nest of bedding, crawling towards the corner. She sat there, her knees huddled up close to her chest, seething with a mixture of fear, anger and confusion.

The nightmare still seemed all too real. But her greatest fear was that someone had heard her screams, and thus her stoic front would be revealed.

After a minute, she heard soft footfalls coming towards her. Oh great...

She prayed that it would be Akane that came. She could have some allowances with her fiancee...no ex-fiancee. She felt bitter from the necessary self-correction, as though she were reliving the loss all over again. Still, Akane wouldn't judge her for having a nightmare. Especially one this vivid and emasculating.

But it wasn't Akane who slid open the door. It wasn't even Kasumi, who might have been counted on to at least be sympathetic. It was, unfortunately, Nabiki. Great...did it have to get any worse.

"Whassamatta, you stub your toe or something," Nabiki said as she peered through the door. Groggy and only half awake, it took her a moment to find Ran-chan curled up in the corner of the room. Seeing Ran-chan furiously try to wipe away the tears from her cheeks to protect her vulnerability must have stirred something unexpected in the mercenary girl. Because she muttered "Ah hell," and sat down beside the terrified redhead.

Nabiki was wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of boy shorts for sleepwear. Her normally well kept pageboy haircut was a tousled mess, and her eyes were still heavy with sleep. She sat next to Ran-chan silently, watching the other girl.

Ran-chan could only look back in silent terror, like a helpless animal caught in a hunter's trap. Nabiki sighed. This was going to be a long night.

"Do you want to talk about it, Ranma?"

It took a moment for Ran-chan to answer. It wasn't because she was considering the offer. Far from it. She just was having a hard-time summoning up the energy to be prompt. "No," she finally said. She pulled her knees closer to her chest, resting her chin in the valley in between them, staring off into space.

"With that thousand-yard-stare," said Nabiki, "you look more like a shell-shocked war veteran than a high-schooler." She chuckled slightly.

Ran-chan's faced curled with disgust. "What, am I not allowed to have nightmares?" she spat.

"Didn't say that, dear. I am, however, curious about what could shake you so much."

"Take a wild guess."

"What? Your curse? Really, at this point I would have thought that the worst was over."

Ran-chan jumped to her feet. She loomed over Nabiki, staring straight down the mercenary girl with a vicious glare. "How'd you like to be stuck as a guy for the rest of your life? Huh? Don't tell me that the worst is over! You don't know shit about suffering. You're just some over-privileged daddy's girl who gets a perverse thrill from walking over and exploiting other, and you get away with it because no one's ever bothered to take you down a peg and show you how worthless you really are."

"Been waiting to say that for a while, haven't ya? That's pretty rich, coming from such a conceited narcissist like yourself!"

To Ran-chan's surprise, she must have struck a nerve on Nabiki. Because the older girl was positively shaking with anger, the kind of anger that dulled your wits, made you lose your cool and forget about more rational options like retreat. It was a mixture of shame and delight to finally get one over on the heartless bitch. Nabiki stood to face Ran-chan.

The red-haired martial artist expected more verbal attacks. She didn't expect Nabiki to plant a hard slap right on her cheek. Shock derailed her train of thought. She just simply put her hand up to her cheek, wincing at the stinging sensation. "Truth hurts, doesn't it Nab-chan?" she muttered, rubbing her sore cheek. It was definitely going to leave a mark.

"You shameless bastard! Here I am trying to help you, and then you insult me!" cried Nabiki.

They continued to argue in the kind of loud, self-defeating whispers that are only heard when people are having a spat and don't want others to hear it.

"Shameless huh? Isn't that what you'd call someone who sells pictures of her little sister and her houseguest to the perverts at school? Or who tries to kick someone when they're down?"

"That's just like you, Saotome Ranma. It always has to be about you. You have to be the center of attention! You narcissistic little prick, do you think maybe once you could give this shit a rest and actually bother to think about someone else for a change?" Nabiki jabbed her finger into Ran-chan's chest, as though she were driving the point home.

"I have only a vague idea what 'narcissist' means, but I can tell you I ain't one. Stop calling me that, you pirate!" Ran-chan slapped the older girl's hand away.

Nabiki crossed her arms with a huff. "God, you're thick. Seriously kiddo, how do you not see it. You always gotta be the center of attention! You get pissed and do absolutely stupid things to prove your better than someone, even if it's at something you hate! Did you forget all the times you tried show off that you were a better woman than Akane was just out of spite? Or how you went to hell and back to get Shampoo's affections back, something you said you hated and annoyed you, when she started giving you the cold shoulder."

"How dare you!"

"That's you in a nutshell, Ranma! 'I hate my curse...no wait now I'm gonna be a better woman than you just cause I can't stand to be second to anyone! Oh look, I'm gonna slut it up and score some free food, or maybe put one over on Ryoga.'" Nabiki did her best Ranma impression, mocking both her male voice and mannerisms as well as the female affectations she put on occasionally. It was a pretty good impression too, not that Ran-chan would ever admit that, and it's accuracy just poured gasoline onto the fire of their fight.

"I just lost everything that was important to me! The woman I love is gonna marry someone else, all my so-called 'friends' are gonna ditch me like yesterday's news now that I can't fit their little romantic fantasies, and I'm trapped in a body that isn't mine forever. I'm not in the mood for you bullying, Nabiki!"

"Don't you ever, ever call me a bully!"

"Right, you're so much worse than that. You extort your family. Hell, I'd bet you'd sell your own mother if the price was good."

Nabiki slapped Ran-chan again. This time, it was ever harder.

"Don't you deny it. You're not that difficult to figure out."

"Last warning, Saotome, leave my mother out of this."

"And don't you go calling me self-centered. Unlike you, I'm actually having a hard time, but I can't expect somebody like you to understand."

"Could you once, in your entire worthless existence, not make this about yourself, Saotome! I try to help you, and you've been doing nothing but insult me."

"Nothing ever comes free from you, Nabiki. I don't know what your angle is this time, but you're a cold-blooded sociopath. I could do without your 'help'."

Nabiki slapped Ran-chan again. "Just listen to yourself. Don't you pretend you're any less manipulative than me. You just tramp around to get what you want like some cheap whore."

The red-haired martial artist lost her focus. She wanted to hit Nabiki so bad it almost hurt. She balled up a fist ready to punch the living daylights out of the older girl. But some little bit of conscience was left that told her it would be a terrible mistake to lose her cool and strike at someone so unprepared without restraint.

A slap would do. She slapped Nabiki firmly on the cheek, leaving a light pink hand-print that was just visible in the dim moonlight.

"Nabiki," she said through clenched teeth, "I get enough of that from everyone else. I don't need to get it from family too."

Nabiki was left in stunned silence. For almost a minute, neither spoke. Both just looked at each other with hurt in their eyes. "Ranma," whispered the older girl, "I may have said some things that I regret."

"Likewise." Ran-chan withdrew back to her corner, and languidly slid down the wall back to her huddled position. She patted the floor next to her.

Nabiki quietly sat down. She was still fuming, and from the cautious look on her face, she definitely knew that Ran-chan was still livid with anger. Still, they needed to do the adult thing. Maybe even recognize that some of the things that the other was saying hurt because they were true.

"Listen, Nab-chan...I am sorry for getting cross with you when you were trying to help. But you have to know that you don't know what I'm going through. Maybe I make too big a deal about my own wants, but I'm not trying to have a pity party here, or compare who really has the most to complain about. And you have to admit that I've never once seen your help come for free."

Nabiki sighed. She too huddled her knees close to her chest, curling up into a protective ball. "Really, Ran-chan, I get that. I use people. I exploit them. I keep my cards pulled tight to my chest. I've done questionable things, and being Furinkan's ice queen is a lonely place. It has to be, or else all my careful work would get undone. But I need you to believe that there has been a purpose for all of this. Why else would you think that daddy has let it go on? We have some independent income, but it isn't enough, especially with all of our recent expenses." She cleared her throat just before to accentuate the "recent expenses"...the additional cost incurred in living expenses and also repairs since Ranma and his father had come calling.

Ran-chan felt a little bit sheepish almost. She'd never once thought to wonder what Nabiki did with all the money she obtained. Sure, some of it went to cover the costs of doing business, and Nabiki occasionally indulged herself, but Ran-chan shamefully never did the math, and try to figure out where the surplus was going. Now there was a sudden epiphany, the vicious cycle she was part of. Exploited to pay for the excess upkeep, she'd often do something stupid and likely destructive to contain the resulting blowback from Nabiki's business model, resulting in more exploitation. The cycle repeated, over and over again.

"You know, Nab-chan, I never once stopped to think what you were doing with the money. I always figured it went into your bank account, maybe to save for university."

"Oh, some of it did. I've been steadily building some education savings accounts for Akane and myself. Don't tell her though, I have an image as a ball-busting bitch that I need to keep up."

"You know, of all people, I didn't think that you'd actually be the selfless one in the Tendo family," Ran-chan said with a chuckle. "Being nice and occasionally doing work for others like Kasumi does is fine, but actually being willing to get your hands dirty, to do something unsavory...I think I can relate to that more."

"Oh, I'm not selfless. I think somewhere along the way I lost sight of why I started doing it. Because, let's be honest, I'm good at it, and it makes me feel good. It makes me feel...powerful, in a way I can't describe. But I think I know what you're alluding to. What you've been refusing to talk about...killing Saffron to try to save my sister."

Ran-chan tensed up involuntarily. There was a moment of silence, and Nabiki was almost prepared to go back to bed. As she was rising, Ran-chan whispered, "I didn't realize how much it weighed on me at the time. I was too caught up in the fury of the moment, and too worried about Akane's fate. But then it sort of hit me...regardless of whether he would be reincarnated...I took his life. I traded his for Akane's. The person he was, all the good and bad, is gone forever. And I did that..."

"That really is something I can't help you with, Ran-chan. But for what it's worth, I think you did the right thing, and not just because it was my sister you saved. And I think you should probably seek professional help for your issues...both your body issues and your guilt over Saffron. I'm sure Tofu-sensei could recommend you to a psychiatrist or something. But right now I need to go back to sleep. We'll talk later. Hell, I might even need you as my sidekick."

"Sidekick?"

"Sure, gotta keep you from spilling the beans somehow. You can be my understudy."

It had taken all too long to fall back to sleep. Ran-chan tossed and turned uncomfortably on her futon, still dwelling on what exactly had her so frightened to face the day. Finally sleep found her, and thankfully they seemed to be more pleasant dreams. The last dream she didn't remember at all, except for the all too-real tingly sensation on her lips as she awoke, as though another girl's luscious lips had just been embracing her own.

There was a general malaise, almost a feeling of being pent-up that followed her through the rest of the morning. It was a strange feeling, and she didn't quite recognize it as she went through her morning routine, sans impromptu martial arts listen from the old man.

Everything and everyone seemed to be bound and determined to push her out of her comfort zone lately. It was exciting, in its own perverse sort of way, but it was feeling like a distraction from the real challenge of getting used to being in a female body forever. And she still didn't know how she'd figure that one out.

She thought she was holding together pretty well this morning, in spite of everything. Then one idle moment, as she was preparing to leave for school, it felt like fate struck her again. She was putting her shoes on to leave for school when Akane sat down next to her. Her former fiance was putting on her shoes like nothing happened, sitting next to Ran-chan, talking to her as though she'd always been a girl. It hit her like a hammer striking an anvil, leaving a reverberation that shook the her to the core.

Everything was not going to be okay. Not yet, not by a long shot. Being reminded of her forlorn hope almost made her break down and cry right there in the vestibule. But she held it in stoicly, smiling her best smile and trying to make small talk with Akane. She still felt a little bit like she was dying inside, but she hid it well.

They started out into the bright morning, just as any other pair of girls might. Well, not just any other pair of girls. Ran-chan wasn't going to be wearing the Furinkan jumper. No way, no how. She might wear the boy's uniform if forced to, but right now she was wearing green Chinese zhongshan suit, commonly called a "Mao suit" even though it was the Nationalist leader Sun Yat-sen that popularized it. She'd acquired it in China, just like the silk tangzhaungs and the Jusenkyo curse.

She would have been wearing one of her tangzhaungs, but Kasumi had taken it upon herself to re-tailor all of them. "Why!?" Ran-chan had asked.

"Comfort," Kasumi had replied.

That had almost got her angry, But she was too tired and depressed to really work up a good angry this morning, so she resigned to wear the one other article of clothing she had left at the Tendo's at the moment. She idly wondered, as she buttoned up the rather utilitarian suit, if this had been a calculated ploy on Kasumi's part to force her to borrow one of Akane's school uniforms. She was just beginning to get a sense that Kasumi had a devious streak too, and that it wasn't just Nabiki in the Tendo family with a knack for subterfuge.

No matter, she wasn't going to fall for that. She'd steal before wearing the girl's uniform.

At least the zhongtang fit fairly well. Some had even remarked she looked cute wearing it...bleh. Not what she wanted this morning, but she'd take what she could get. She at least elected to leave the matching cap, complete with red star, behind. It was bad enough that she was going to be pen-palling with that quirky Basque priest back in Spain. He'd revealed, during one of the bus rides around Barcelona, that he'd been a communist back during the civil war he talked about a lot, and still considered himself somewhat of a "fellow traveler", whatever that meant. Given her adventures in China, and that Pop's seemed to have a few old connections lying around that could get him visas to travel semi-legitimately in the People's Republic of China, and now this interest in understanding other people's plights, people might start assuming things. Things that she didn't want people to also be gossiping about.

In a rare moment of self-reflection and foresight, she saw how quick people might start assuming her politics were as red as her hair. This was not something she was interested in dealing with right now, and to the extent that she had much of a political consciousness at all (excluding, of course, the politics that one has to deal with in martial arts culture, the rules and customs that are expected, etc.), she at least knew that "communism", whatever the hell it was, was not something associated with polite society in Japan. It's not that she didn't try to find out. She'd been curious enough to ask on a couple occasions as a precocious little youngster, but no one seemed keen on giving an answer.

Bleh...it was too early in the morning to be thinking about such things. It was better to do than to think, she supposed.

The walk to Furinkan was quiet. Though Akane seemed to be in a pleasant enough mood, there was a sort of invisible wall between them. It was her body language that gave it away. Clues that would have been invisible to anyone else were as plain as day to an experienced martial artist. Ran-chan couldn't help but notice how tense Akane's body was, or how carefully she was maintaining a very deliberate space between herself and Ran-chan. She would neither let herself get too close, and face the problem of an intimacy that now troubled her so, nor would she let herself get too far away, and make it appear that she was trying to avoid her former fiance.

Or am I just projecting, said an uneasy voice in Ran-chan's head

After the uneasy walk with Akane, it was almost a relief to see Kuno waiting at Furinkan High's front gates. For all his faults, he did have one redeeming quality: he was an excellent punching bag, where she could take all her personal issues and just sublimate them into some pure violence.

Kuno noticed the two girls rather quickly. He immediately ceased whatever inane babble about some subject that no one really cared about which he felt necessary to pontificate upon, and turned to meet his "loves."

"Why does he have to do this every morning!" Akane said through gritted teeth, "Maybe we should just jump the fence somewhere else and try to sneak past him."

"No, I've got a much better idea." Ran-chan smiled sinisterly, grinning as wide as a Cheshire Cat.

It did not go unnoticed. "Whatever it is, don't kill him!" Akane said with genuine alarm.

"Oh no, his punishment must be more severe."

Kuno stood, tall and proud as a monument. Dressed as always in his immaculately ironed silk kendo gi, he was practically posing for the camera, holding his well worn boken across his shoulder. Had it not been for his obsessions, he might have even been tolerable for all his eccentricity. He was noble enough, and reliably so, and seemed to have a keen sense of justice. Except, of course, where romance was involved. For all his noble talk, he wasn't much different than his sister in believing that all was fair in love and war.

"Tendo Akane! Greetings on this fine morning, though you are much more fair than this beautiful, radiant spring day. And my beloved pig-tailed girl! I had thought we had been parted forever. Oh, to have not seen your passionate soul in so long. Oh, my love, please tell me that we shall never be parted again this way."

Oh this was going to be it. The students milling about waited in anticipation. Could this be the day when Ranma sends the loon to meet his maker? In Nabiki's betting pool, the odds on that were currently running at 6:1. Or could Ranma finally crack? Would the struggle be finished, would Ranma win the victory over herself, and love Kuno?

That option was running 20:1 today, having steadily creeped up from 50:1 when the betting began. It probably said something about what a small dedicated minority were hoping was going to happen in some bizarre expression of their own repressed desires than an accurate assessment of the odds.

Akane waited, fearful of what Ran-chan might do as the redhead confidently strolled up to Kuno.

"Oh Kuno!" Ran-chan said in a voice better suited for scoring free ice cream than telling Kuno to take a long walk off a short cliff. "I am flattered by your feelings, really I am. It must have taken considerable courage to so boldly confess your love."

Akane's jaw dropped. The crowd's milling gossip fell into stunned silence. Kuno puffed up with pride at the flattery.

"But you see, senpai, though I don't hate you for you feelings, I cannot return them. You see, senpai, my heart belongs to another, and I am so hopelessly in love," said Ran-chan.

Kuno burned with rage. "Why that cur Saotome! That honorless cretin, to hold your tender heart hostage like this!"

Ran-chan's impish grin was back, though her delivery never once faltered, even though you could sense the almost sadistic glee behind her words, "Oh Kuno, it isn't a man that has stolen my heart. I'm afraid no man ever could...for you see, my heart belongs to Akane!"

"What sort of madness is this, my pig-tailed goddess. You're not saying that you're a l-l-lesbian, are you?"

"I'm sorry my dear friend, but it's true. Though I may be cursed for it, a woman's love is what I need. It's something no man can give me. Though I must thank you, Kuno. It was only through our few dates that I came to realize that I could never love a man. Thank you Kuno for helping me learn this."

The Blue Thunder of Furinkan High was having a blue screen of death moment. No less stunned than bystanders, he was incoherently muttering something about sorcery and how this couldn't be true.

The mischeavious redhead sized up her opponent, and moved in for the finishing move. "Good, now that we have this misunderstanding cleared up," she said, "could you kindly fuck off!" She unceremoniously punted the Blue Thunder into the wild blue yonder.

In all, Ran-chan thought it went well. She even thought she might have heard some applause.

"You know it's not going to stop him, right?" said Akane.

"I'm having a moment here, don't ruin it. Besides, it was fun."

Chapter Text

It was midday now, and Ran-chan had managed to sneak up onto the roof for a little bit of alone time to eat her lunch and get away from all of the attention. She slumped down in a nice shady area, sighing with exhaustion. It wasn't so much physical exhaustion as emotional…there was just too much to deal with all at once. Getting things sorted out with Furinkan had been a major pain in the ass, and the teachers had all unanimously voted to go on strike if there was to be two Ranmas in the same class.

It didn't come down to that. She'd been shifted to Second Year's Class Three. It was probably for the best, really. It may have cut her off from most of the familiar faces, but being in the same class with her other half, or having to deal with Akane or Ukyo would have been a little too much to handle.

"Ah, there you are," she heard Daisuke cry. He was panting slightly, and seemed a little bit worn thin from exertion. His black hair, normally an orderly part down the middle, was tousled.

"We've been looking all over for you," said Hiroshi as he followed closely behind Daisuke. A thin sheen of sweat on his face glimmered in the noon sun.

She tutted, slightly amused, eyebrow raised.

They sat down on either side of her, a bit uncomfortably close. She squirmed with irritation, trying to avoid any direct contact. After a pregnant silence, they both asked in chorus, "Well, aren't you going to tell us what's going on?"

"I'm eating," she said through a mouth full of sushi.

"Ranma…that's disgusting," Hiroshi blanched.

She set down her bento, sighing with frustration. "Why don't you just go ask him all about it?"

"Well, we would have," Daisuke replied, "But that would mean getting in between him and Akane during one of their fights."

"Huh," she said in genuine surprise. Here she had figured that things would be all hunky-dory between those two now that the curse was gone and the big L-word cat was out of the bag. Just thinking about that prospect gave her that uncomfortable feeling, like a boat slowly sinking. It hadn't occurred to her until much later that she'd unwittingly helped start the ball rolling on the old marriage scheme again with her sobbing, naked confession in the furo. She could have kicked herself when she did.

"Yeah," Daisuke said, rolling his eyes, "they were arguing about how he wasn't being true to his feelings or something, and not being honest with her. Bunch of girly shit if you ask me—no offense."

"None…taken?" She wasn't quite sure what that was supposed to mean or how she was supposed to take it.

"So, what gives!?" Hiroshi interrupted, "You've been gone for the first two weeks of the term, and then suddenly you're back and there's two of you."

"What is there to tell!?" she huffed, "We tried to cure our curses, and it backfired. Now I'm a girl forever, and he gets to have everything. I'm just the leftovers."

"Ranma," said Daisuke, "forgive me, but it sounds like you hate him. That is, well, a little messed up."

She was on her feet in a flash. She loomed over both of them, hunched over as she shouted back at them, "Why shouldn't I hate him! He's got everything I want, and now can never have. He's a man among men, just like his dear old mother always wanted. He's got the love of the only woman that has ever mattered to me, and he's been the biggest jerk in this jerk world!"

Hiroshi and Daisuke's cringing in terror gave her pause. She sat back down, still facing them.

"He's horrible. He just stands there, looking superior and doesn't even realize how good he's got it. Everyone still wants him…but there's no room left for me. I…I poured my heart out to Akane last night when I saw her slipping away. But she doesn't want me, she can't love a freak like me; a boy in a girl's body. She just wants to be friends, and I don't know if I can live with that. Ukyo can't even bring herself to look at me. Shampoo has already tried to kill me once today. And there's that jerk, just as happy as can be. He even laughed about it."

It was like a train wreck. Neither of the two teenage boys could look away. Daisuke twiddled his thumbs on the unbuttoned collar of his uniform jacket, while his face twisted with confusion. Hiroshi just ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair, frowning. Neither could think of the right thing to say.

She laughed awkwardly. "Hey, you wanted to know. And you know the worst part about this? We were the same person, so that means I'm just as big of a piece of shit as he is. It took this to make me realize it. Ain't that a practical joke?"

It was over a minute before anyone else spoke. Finally Daisuke cleared his throat, "Okay, who are you, and what the hell have you done with Ranma?"

She was lying back on the concrete roof now, staring up at the clouds as they drifted so far above, without a care in the world. "It had occurred to me that I might not actually be who I think I am. I guess it would make it easier to move on if I thought I was just some unfortunate girl burdened by memories that weren't mine."

"Ranma, I was being facetious," Daisuke groaned.

"I know you were. Doesn't mean I hadn't thought the same things. You weren't there when it happened. The way that I was created out of thin air by that relic." She trailed off at the end. Thinking about it just made her itch with worry.

Hiroshi shrugged, noiselessly mouthing "I don't know," to his constant companion, as though he were answering some unspoken question. Daisuke just nodded in silent agreement.

"You know, cloud watching sounds good," Hiroshi exclaimed suddenly, then flopped onto the roof next to Ran-chan without a hint of grace. This time, he left a more comfortable space between their bodies. "Look, I know we can't replace your other friends, but we're still here for you."

Daisuke quickly followed, joining in the cloud watching ritual. "Besides, we were afraid that this year was going to be boring without you in class," he chuckled, "look out class three, we're taking over!"

She almost smiled.

"Besides, it's gym class next, your best subject," said Hiroshi, his eyes already half-closed for a nice noontime nap.

That slow sinking feeling was back in no time.

In some ways, it was the first question. It had always been there, so long as there had been at least two people on the planet: do you chose your own comfort, or the comfort of the people around you? Changing in the girl's locker room would have meant uncomfortable stares, and a torrent of accusations of being a pervert.

Changing with a bunch of sexually repressed teenage males, on the other hand, would be intensely uncomfortable for all of them. But at heart, Ran-chan was still one of them, and wouldn't feel out of place. Besides, they all knew better than to try anything funny with her.

Hell, most of them had pretty fully internalized that she was still "one of the guys" even when in female form. "What's the worst that could happen?" she asked herself. Maybe she was just blowing this out of proportion.

Only a couple of her classmates even seemed to take notice when she followed them into the men's locker room. As if by habit, she began walking to the sinks for hot water before abruptly stopping herself. Momentarily wounded, she trudged back over to her locker, and began undressing. In hindsight, she might as well have thrown a grenade in with the reaction she got.

She was standing in front of her locker topless, fishing through her duffel for her gym t-shirt when she heard the shouts starting. Wordless cries of shock echoed off the tiled walls. A few people just dropped everything, gawking at her with silent confusion. Some of the transfer students, not knowing who she was whistled excitedly.

She could sense it, all two-dozen pairs of eyes locked onto her. Inquisitive, disgusted, or ogling. Some all of them at once. Oh Ranma you idiot.

It was hard to carry on normally with so much hostile attention. She tried to dress as though nothing were wrong, but that was useless. It just seemed to make the voyeuristic thrill even worse for the watching eyes, and so she find herself paused, t-shirt rolled around arms about to be brought over her head. She just stared back at them like a statue.

Hiroshi approached her, his face a confused mix of stern disapproval, embarrassment and blushing. He was also in a state of half-undress as he confronted her. "Oy, what the hell are you doing?" he shouted.

She just wanted to hit her idiot friend for drawing even more attention to an already bad situation. She instead exhaled her frustrations in a long sigh. Hardly moving a muscle, she replied in deadpan, "I'm getting changed."

"Don't be a smartass, Ranma. You know what I meant, what are you doing in here? This is the boy's locker room!"

She set the t-shirt on the duffel, turning to face Hiroshi. "So?"

"So? You're standing in the men's room in nothing but a pair of boxers, and all you can say is 'so'? You're un-believable Ranma…are you trying to get molested?" Hiroshi was trying to be stern, but his tone was conflicted to say the least. He swallowed hard as he tried desperately to not stare at her ample breasts.

He was failing apparently, because Gojira was rising from the deep. "Hiroshi you idiot," she growled, "I can take care of myself."

"I'm just trying to look out for you, idiot."

A quick glance confirmed Gojira was about to rampage through Tokyo Bay. "Yes, I can see you're a real stand-up guy." There was a hint of desperation in her voice, the kind of cringing feeling you get when watching someone embarrass themselves. Oh for god's sake, you're just making it worse!

Without saying another word, she quickly put on her t-shirt. She spun on her heel, and brusquely marched out of the locker room. No one said a word after she slammed the door closed. Nor would they have been surprised if it had rattled off its hinges from the force. The tomblike silence continued for almost a full minute. Finally someone said what everyone was thinking "Okay, what the hell just happened?"

The last few minutes of the school day seemed to take forever. Ran-chan watched the second hand slowly crawl forward as she idly fiddled with her pencil. To everyone's surprise, her own included, she'd completed the day's quiz early. English class had never gone that well for her, and she wondered if her time spent abroad had been the reason. Everywhere she went, at least someone spoke English, and since so few of the people she met could speak Japanese, she had found herself pushing her limited vocabulary to its limits.

It was a strange feeling, almost pride that she felt. She'd never done well academically, and this next year looked like it was going to continue exactly like the previous ones had. It was a tiny victory, but she savored it.

Oh wow…time really is relative, she mused. Since the locker incident, she'd been greeted with uncomfortable stares wherever she went. The rumor mill was quite happily churning away at that one. She groaned just thinking about it.

The last second ticked away, and with it came the sound of the bell. The first day was over, and she hoped it would be all downhill from there. As she was gathering her things, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Instinctively, her fists clenched and her whole body bristled from the touch. But as she turned, it was only Hiroshi.

"Oh, it's you," she said impolitely.

"Hey, listen! About earlier…I'm sorry." From the tone of his voice, and the look on his face, it was genuine. But she wasn't inclined to forgive or forget just yet.

She grabbed him by the nose, and though he struggled, he couldn't escape her vice-like grip. She pulled his face to hers. "Ow! Ow!" he cried.

She stared menacingly at him, not relaxing her hold one bit. Her face, snarling with rage, was uncomfortably close, and he instinctively tried to pull away. But he couldn't budge, and her grip showed no sign of relenting.

"You've heard the rumors haven't you?" she hissed.

He tried to nod. "Um…sort of."

"This is not something that you can just say 'sorry' and make it all better!" She did finally let go of his nose, only to roughly shove him into a seat. "First I hear rumors that I've started batting for the other team, and that we're dating! By next period, I'm hearing the lurid details of 'our' sex life. To say nothing of the truly sick and disgusting rumors about what I was supposedly doing in the locker room."

Something about the look of terror on Hiroshi's face reminded her of something so very fragile. A little doll perhaps. Or a little boy covered in fish sauce and thrown to hungry cats. It gave her pause, and in that moment of clarity she realized she hadn't just shoved him into the seat. She was holding him by the collar with one hand. Her other hand was balled into a fish, ready to strike.

When and where she lost control, she didn't know. And she hated that feeling. She let him go, and slumped into the seat next to his. "That was uncalled for, I'm sorry Hiroshi," she whispered, barely loud enough to hear.

"What were you thinking, Ranma?" he asked, slightly wary of another blow up.

She sighed heavily. "I wasn't, and that's the problem. I was just so angry. Angry at you, angry at the students at this school. Angry at the world. Angry with myself."

"No, I meant earlier. I know I only made things worse, but what the hell were you doing in the men's locker room?"

"Where else should I be?"

"Ranma, I shouldn't have to point this out to you, but you're a girl now."

"No, I'm not."

"Could have fooled me."

She bristled at the very suggestion of it. This time, she kept her cool much better, but he still irritated her so much saying idiotic things like that. "You just don't get it, do you? I might have a girl's body now, but that doesn't mean I'm a girl."

"But—"

"No buts," she interrupted, "I was born a boy. I was raised as a boy, and even with my curse I remained committed to being a boy. I may have accepted that my curse and my girl body were as much a part of me as anything else, but I was and still am a man at heart."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"Of course it does, idiot. Would you suddenly want to be just like all of the other girls, even if you suddenly had a girl's body?"

That question must have hit home, because he remained speechless.

She put a hand on his shoulder, gently and not menacingly. "Listen, I do forgive you. I really do, and I'm sorry for lashing out at you. But—and I have a hard time admitting this—am having a hard time with this. I went into the men's locker room because I thought that you would still treat me like one of the guys, but I guess now that I can't change back they just can't see it. I thought that would cause the least amount of trouble…and maybe avoid being called a pervert by everyone but I guess that's a bust."

She left without saying good bye. She just needed to get away from this place. But there was nowhere to run to. The Tendos had been more than welcoming, but she still felt out of place at the dojo. It didn't feel like home anymore, and that troubled her much more than she would ever admit.

The exit was in sight, and she was walking briskly towards it. As she neared the intersection between the two main hallways, Ukyo suddenly came around the corner, nearly stumbling into her.

There was a look of shock and surprise on Ukyo's face. She quickly spun on her heel, determined as ever to avoid this little ghost of her friend. She almost escaped, but Ran-chan had grabbed her by the hand just before she slipped out of reach.

"Ucchan!" cried the redhead, "Why are you avoiding me?"

"Do you really want to know?" she said almost timidly. That was so unlike her.

Their eyes met. Ukyo tugged gently, trying to pull her hand free, but Ran-chan held on firmly.

Ukyo's eyes were misty. Ran-chan instantly recognized the subtle quirks in Ukyo's face. She'd seem them in the mirror, when she was holding back her tears. Ukyo bit her lip nervously as she closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts. "It hurts to look at you, Ran-chan. I know you're the same person I've always loved, but it feels so wrong to still love you. To still want you. And when I close my eyes, you're still the same boy who broke my heart. Who chose Akane over me."

Ran-chan was going to say "But that wasn't me," but the words died in her throat. Because had things been differently, she still would have chosen Akane, and still would have broken Ukyo's heart. She couldn't tell which was tugging at her heart strings more; the fact that things seem to have gone official between her other half and Akane, or having hurt a friend so much. She wanted to be able to make it better, to wash away that pain. She shouldn't have to be as miserable as me, she thought. But she couldn't do anything about.

So she just held onto Ukyo's hand, squeezing gently. "If you need space, I'll understand. But please remember, you are my oldest, best friend. And I'll always be your friend."

Letting go was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Before the split, in spite of the chaotic life that they always brought with them, the three somewhat deranged women who she had been betrothed to were all still her friends.

Saotome Ranma, the master of mixed messages. She'd always wondered why her words came out wrong around them. Why she couldn't be straight with them, why she'd put off choosing between them. Only now, seeing Ukyo heartbroken and fleeing from the pain of being around her, did she understand why. She didn't want to lose any of the few friends she had.

She watched Ukyo leave. She fought every instinct in her body to chase after her. On the outside, she remained stoicly calm, but in truth she just felt empty and numb.

Chapter Text

For the past week, Ran-chan hadn't had much motivation to do much of anything. Though she kept up her morning exercise routine, there was simply no drive to do any serious training. Though she'd dutifully dragged her sorry ass out of bed every morning and made it to school on time, and had made a passable attempt at doing her school work, she'd been spending most of her time simply moping around the Tendo residence.

At first, they'd given her space, just assuming it was all part of the settling in process. But she knew she couldn't keep sulking like this forever; eventually someone was going to get nosy and that was the last thing she wanted. Today would be the day, she thought.

Okay, maybe not quite yet. Five more minutes of sleep wouldn't stop her from getting back into the swing of things she figured. So she rolled over and buried her head under the pillow to escape the harsh morning sunlight flooding the room.

Sunday morning. That meant there was simply no excuse to not try to enjoy the day. Ugh, how exhausting. No class today, and hell, she'd even gotten all her homework done. Well, most of it. Okay, much more than usual, and probably enough to skate by. At the very least, single-mindedly hitting the books had been a coping mechanism during this week from hell, and that made it hard to feel any pride in getting all of her math homework done. It was simply easier to keep struggling through that crap, and keep her mind occupied than it would be to let it wander to the gigantic avalanche of problems she was dealing with.

And for most of the week, the rest of the Nerima wrecking crew had left her in peace. Her male half dutifully ignored her, and even his bickering with Akane had gotten down to a dull roar. Ryoga must have been lost somewhere, because she hadn't seen hide nor hair from him since they'd parted ways at the end of the trip. Ukyo was still avoiding her; her oldest friend instead seemed to be throwing herself headlong into her work. And after the initial attack, Shampoo seemed to licking her wounds somewhere.

Even Mousse seemed to lack the energy for fighting. Ran-chan had gotten what she'd thought she'd always wanted; a little peace and quiet. Boy did it suck, and by now the boredom had reached the point where it had overcome the depression. She never thought she'd actually miss the nonsense on stilts, but this peace and quiet was just too unsettling. She groaned just thinking about it.

"Sooner or later, Saotome Ranma," she said to herself, "you're going to have to get off your lazy ass and get things back to normal."

The pep talk hadn't worked as planned, but she managed to drag herself outside into the still cool, misty morning air. After a quick bit of stretching, she began her morning run. Whatever else happened, she refused to let herself slacken her training. And without the whetstone of constant conflict to keep her body honed to a razor's edge, dull exercise like running or weight training was filling the void.

The run and the subsequent bath helped her find clarity. By the time she left the Tendo residence again, the morning fog had lifted. She walked alone along fences and terraces, and casually made her way to Dr. Tofu's clinic. Akane had been insisting that she get a checkup, both physical and otherwise, and it seemed clear at last that there was no use in putting it off any longer.

When she arrived, she found Tofu casually reading the newspaper on his front step. The tea he had intended to accompany his reading had already long since gone cold. For whatever reason, the young doctor seemed happy. He practically radiated with it as he sat there smiling warmly, punctuated occasionally with a wistful sigh.

His contentment stirred something in Ran-chan as well, and she found herself smiling in spite of herself as she approached him unnoticed. Since he was clearly not really reading the paper, she didn't feel bad about interrupting. "Hey, Dr. Tofu!" she said.

"Oh, well hello there Ranma!" he replied with a bit of a start, "Akane told me you'd be stopping by soon. What can I do for you?"

"Well, how much has she told you?" Ran-chan said, fidgeting slightly.

"Just the basics, but I'd like to hear your version of what's going on at any rate." He ushered her into the clinic, where he quickly set about making some tea and snacks while Ran-chan got him up to speed. It took a fair bit of coaxing on Tofu's part to get her to share everything that he at least thought was relevant. And that meant reliving those agonizing intimate moments with Akane as well as the shameful embarrassments of her first day back at Furinkan and the attendant nightmares.

By the time he'd finished interrogating her, she was as red as a beat.

"Honestly Doc! What on earth do ya need to know all that for? I didn't take you for a pervert!" she said with a huff.

"Ranma, you're blushing like a young maiden."

"Hey! You take that back!" she said indignantly. She wanted to shout from the mountain tops, "But, I'm a guy!" but there seemed to be no use, no point in further protest, and so those indignant words felt like ash in her mouth. No one could see how she felt, and for all their attempts at sympathy they just didn't seem to understand.

Tofu looked puzzled. He rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "Listen, I didn't mean to upset you. And I have to be honest with you, Ranma. I am seriously out of my depth here. You're dealing with a whole lot of things that I don't think I can help you with. I would like to give you a quick checkup before you go, and I'll give you the number of a colleague I think might be able to help you get through your unique circumstances.

She acquiesced without much more protest. Tofu began his physical examination. Every few moments, he'd hum thoughtfully, scratch down a few notes on his clipboard, and carry on poking and prodding at Ran-chan.

"What's the deal, Doc? You keep giving me that funny look, like you're surprised or something? There ain't nothing wrong with me, right?" she said with a hint of concern.

"No, there's nothing wrong per se," Tofu replied delicately, "Like always, you're healthy as a horse."

"Har har, you're a real comedian. So if I'm in great shape, then what's all the weird looks for?"

"Well, I don't know if it means anything. But before your, er, 'accident', your girl mode always stayed at pretty much the exact same height and weight without fail. I had just figured you must've stopped growing. But it looks like you've grown two centimeters since your last checkup, which was right before you left with your father on that trip."

"What the hell are you saying? That my curse was stunting my growth?"

"I can't be sure, but that is certainly a possibility. We shouldn't jump to any conclusions yet, especially without doing any more research. But it is quite possible that the curse was affecting you in other ways."

"Well, I ain't getting wet anywhere near as often as I used to."

"I am not going to lie to you, Ranma. We're dealing with a kind of magic here that at best, I only very dimly understand. I can't even begin to speculate how the Jusenkyo curse was affecting you, let alone how the artifact dispelled that curse. If you start feeling anything out of the ordinary, and I do mean anything, I want you to come see me immediately. Day or night, stop by and I'll see what I can do."

"Yeah, yeah…I'm sure that there ain't nothin' wrong with me, Doc…"

"Ranma," Tofu interrupted, "I am serious. This is very important." His normal smile had seemed to evaporate in an instant, and was replaced with sternness that Ran-chan hadn't ever seen in the healer before.

"Fine, fine, I'll stop in if anything changes."

Before she left, Tofu handed her a business card. When she glanced over it, the only thing that caught her eye was the title below the name: Martial Arts Psychoanalyst. She had a bit of a sinking feeling as she pocketed the business card.

Ran-chan had stopped back at the Tendo's for lunch. She ate what was a light meal by her standards, and listened to the goings on of her adoptive family. She'd apparently missed out on the announcement last night, because Akane's date tonight with her male half seemed to be all anyone could talk about.

On the inside, she stewed in some rough emotions, but she was sure she at least looked content on the outside. It was still hard to have Akane be so close and yet so far, but it at least didn't feel quite like the end of the world anymore. So she absent mindedly picked away at some rice while Soun gushed about his youngest daughter growing up so fast.

"This is all rather sudden, though," Nabiki said. "Don't you think so, Kasumi?"

"Oh, it's not at all. Why, they've been betrothed for almost a year now," the demure older sister replied. For a second, Ran-chan thought she caught a glimpse of a twitch in Kasumi's demeanor. She'd heard that slight change in tone in Kasumi's voice many times before, and now she finally thought she understood what it meant: leave me out of this!

Nabiki seemed to catch the subtext plain as day, and rolled her eyes in annoyance. She pressed on anyway, "Come on Akane, what gives? You and Ranma seem to be taking things a bit more seriously now."

For a second, Akane's eyes flitted nervously over to Ran-chan, and suddenly the redhead felt a little queasy. She set her chopsticks down, and silently pleaded that maybe just this once, Akane wouldn't be so brutally honest. "Well, you see," Akane stammered, "It's just that when he left like that so suddenly, without hardly any warning, just a note saying he was heading off to chase after another cure for his curse, I was just so angry that he'd leave so suddenly."

Ran-chan breathed an uneasy sigh of relief. Nabiki just twiddled with her chopsticks and said, "Oh, go on."

"I think I thought he was the biggest jerk in the world that day," said Akane, almost whispering. "But then I just got sick with loneliness and worry. We got a post card from Delhi, and then another one from Tel Aviv, and then the contact just stopped. When we got the phone call from Genma saying to meet them at the airport, they were coming home, I was ecstatic."

"I wasn't," muttered Soun, "That was a collect call from Spain."

Ran-chan remembered their reunion, and couldn't ignore the pang of guilt that came with it. She remembered the tears in Akane's eyes as the lonely girl had hugged her so tightly. She remembered feeling much the same way, though she didn't let it show even then, and she wondered by it had taken so long for them both to be honest about how they felt about the other. She wondered why she'd been so stubborn, and why Akane had been so damn obstinate, but she couldn't honestly tell herself that knowing why would make things any better.

"I finally, well, talked to him about why he'd left, and we had a very long and honest conversation that day at school," said Akane.

Nabiki was more than little skeptical though. She leaned in closer to Akane, like a sly cardshark calling a bluff. "An 'honest conversation' is what you're calling it? Forgive me if I got the wrong impression on the far end of the third floor hall from you, but that sounded a bit more like a shouting match to me, sis."

"It was at first, I won't deny that. But to make a long story short, he basically said he went after the cure because his curse kept getting in between us—"

Yeah, and I may have to keep getting in between too, Ran-chan thought bitterly.

"—and though he'd always been too embarrassed to say it, he really did love me, and he wanted to make things work between us. So, yeah, that's why we're trying to give this dating thing a try. So, how 'bout them Giants, eh?"

Suddenly Ran-chan wasn't hungry anymore. She'd been stewing in jealousy for much of the past week. But it was absurd wasn't it, she thought, to be jealous of yourself. To feel spite towards him for feeling what she felt, and wanting the same things that she wanted. Because she couldn't deny that if the situations were reversed, she'd be acting in exactly the same way.

"Oh no, Akane," Nabiki beamed, "You're not getting away that easy. I want details Akane. Details! Tell me more about what you've got planned for your date, sis. Have you kissed him yet? I'll find out one way or the other, so you might as well just come clean."

Akane blushed furiously. But with the way she then nervously looked towards Ran-chan, it wasn't just embarrassment, but also guilt. She wasn't thinking just about the awkward kiss and love confession in the Tendo furo, but something else as well. Losing Akane never felt more real or more final.

Ran-chan tried to excuse herself, but then that perfect flower of Japanese womanhood Kasumi gave her that knowing look that said, "We don't waste food in this house, eat the rest of your fish or else."

"You have, haven't you?" Nabiki practically squealed before regaining her composure. Akane's face was as red as a May Day parade.

"Nabiki, I don't want to talk about it, okay?!"

"What's the big deal Akane? You don't need to get so worked up over a kiss—"

In between Akane's furious non-verbal attempts at denial and her burying her face in her hands in embarrassment, Nabiki was left momentarily speechless. Her mercenary grin vanished as she silently mouthed "oh."

"—you did, didn't you Akane? Wow, my younger sister has finally become a woman,"

"Oh my!" said Kasumi as she covered her mouth in shock, "I don't think this is a conversation we should be having at the dinner table."

Soun practically had a heart attack now that he had at last finally been confronted with the reality that his little baby girl was becoming an adult. The dream of uniting the two schools came with the nightmare of childhood's end, and he promptly fainted at the revelation.

Nabiki was neither scandalized nor shocked. Instead, she was eating it up. "So that's why you were so late coming home last night! Come on, you can't just leave us with that, I need details, baby, details!"

The chopsticks Ran-chan had been twiddling with snapped in her hand, "Nabiki!" she cried.

Ran-chan stormed out of the Tendo dojo as soon as lunch was finished. Right now, she just needed to be away. She needed time to cool down, to go do something to take her mind off it, because the awkwardness of living at the Tendo's constantly reminded her that she couldn't keep hiding from her mother forever, and nor could she just ignore the existence of her male half. But she'd deal with that later, right now she just wanted to get into a good knockdown, drag out fight, and anyone would do. So she started off towards the park that Ryoga usually set up camp in. Unlike just about anyone else in Nerima, she wouldn't have to hold back fighting against Ryoga, and there wouldn't be any terms or conditions applied to the fight. Just pure macho bravado at play, and that was exactly what she needed right now.

She was so single-minded in her focus as she jogged away from the Tendo's that she hadn't noticed the storm clouds gathering overhead. She had just reached the park when the sky opened up and unleashed a torrential downpour.

There went her fair fight. In mere moments, she was already soaked to the bone. She tried to keep her temper, gritting her teeth with frustration. But it was all just too much. She wailed at the top of her lungs, cursing the sky. "Oh come on! You really couldn't let me have this, huh?" she raged against the heavens, falling to her knees in quaking, livid exasperation. "You just gotta kick a guy when he's down, huh? Just how am I supposed to fight a big bully like you!?"

She heard Ryoga shout, "Oy, keep it down out there Ranma, I was trying to take a nap!" He was peering out of his tent, staring daggers at her from under his umbrella.

"Heh, I guess that was a touch melodramatic," she said. And with the rain pouring down her face, she couldn't tell if she was laughing or crying. It was better that way.

"For a second there, you could've given ol' Kuno a run for his money."

She shivered in the cold rain, and rubbed her hands up and down over her soaked clothes to try to fight off the chill. "Say, Ryoga, ol' buddy ol' pal, you think you've got some extra room in that tent?"

"Just hurry up and get in here, moron. And take those muddy pants off before you come in, it's hard enough to keep this tent clean without jerks like you going all dramatic."

The tent was a little bit crowded for two people, but it was manageable. The small portable stove, combined with their body heat, made the temperature quite liveable even with the rain. And since Ryoga had pitched the tent properly, the rainwater drained away and didn't seep inside. After a short argument, Ryoga finally reluctantly agreed to lend Ran-chan a spare shirt, but only after she'd threatened to take off her soaked tangzhuang regardless and dry it over the stove. So he yielded promptly, and traded the mortifying embarrassment of his eternal rival being half naked and all woman for the mild embarrassment of her squeezing into a t-shirt that was rather too tight across the chest for her.

By the time they were both settled in for the long rain spell, the tea Ryoga had placed on the stove was boiling over. Cursing his luck, he frantically pulled the kettle off the stove. He dutifully poured some for Ran-chan in a cheap camp mug before filling his own. To his surprise, he hadn't overboiled it as much as he feared, and it was only slightly too bitter for his taste. Ran-chan didn't seem to mind at all though.

In truth, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Though she was hiding it well, after being rivals and maybe even friends for so long he could see right through her. He'd heard about things going official between the male Ranma and Akane too. That was rough. He'd sublimated his frustration into more training when he learned about it, and by the time he had finished, his knuckles were bruised and bleeding.

A small and ever dwindling part of Ryoga wanted to revel in Ranma being brought down to his level, to really feel his pain. But even that bitter part of his soul couldn't manage it, because there was another Ranma who had won. Ranma was always his own worst enemy when it came to his relationship with Akane, yet only another Ranma could ever beat her for a place in Akane's heart.

"So what's got you so down, bub?" said Ryoga.

"Oh believe me, P-chan, you're better off finding this one out from someone else," she huffed.

"Would you cut that P-chan crap out? And come one, I'm gonna find out sooner or later anyway, you might as well just tell me straight up you—" Ryoga cut himself off before he could insult Ran-chan's masculinity. It wasn't fair to attack that sore spot, especially now, and he'd been trying to avoid doing that since the cure debacle. And though he'd never admit it to Ranma's face, he knew that even as a cute, busty red-haired vixen, Ranma was still the best masculine rival to measure himself against. Her curse hadn't changed that before, and now it that it was permanent, it still wasn't going to change. Not on his watch at least.

"Okay, your funeral," Ran-chan muttered. She puzzled with how to say it for too long. But there was no easy, delicate way to say it. She wanted to just spit it out, but the words just wouldn't come. No matter how she tried to phrase it, it just seemed so strange, like it was hardly real. She'd gone over what she'd seen and heard a dozen times now, both on the trek over and mulled over hot tea, hoping that she'd heard wrong or maybe she might have misinterpreted. No use fighting it though. "They're sleeping together," she said all too calmly, as though she were reading the newspaper out loud.

Ryoga spat out a mouthful of tea. "Waitaminutetherebucko, did you just say what I thought you said?"

She had a thousand yard stare at the tent wall as she nodded.

"You mean, Akane and the other Ranma?"

She nodded again.

"Sleeping? Together? As in, you know?" he was too bashful to say it out loud.

"Yes, sleeping together, as in making love, doing the horizontal mambo, making the beast with two backs, or just plain fucking! Take your pick!" she shouted.

Suddenly Ryoga was having a bit of a hard time breathing and his head was swimming. On some level, though he was too much of a prude to really think about it, he knew it was kind of an inevitable outcome. That's what people in a relationship did, though he'd never made it that far before Akari decided to break it off. But he still wasn't prepared for the reality of it. He wanted so very desperately to be able to hate her for it, because in his mind there was still only one Ranma, and it would take some time before he didn't reflexively blame one for what the other did. But just as fast the anger came, it popped like a balloon, and he deflated. What would be the point in it? It was over, and he'd lost. Nothing would change that. Certainly not fighting the other person who'd lost this race. Especially right now; fighting in this rainstorm would only result in him turning into a little black piglet.

Ran-chan was a bit surprised by his silence. "Well?"

"Well what, Ranma? It's game over man. We knew this day was coming. Nothing prepared us for it, but it's here anyway. What's the point in getting angry or fighting right now? We're not going to work this shit out by beating each other into a bloody pulp. It was fifty-fifty whether it would be you or him. You're just the one who lost the coin toss when we decided once again, against our better judgment, to play with strange magic for a quick and easy cure to our curses."

"How can you be so flippant about this?"

"Why are you so hung up about it? The game is over, and it isn't our fault."

Ran-chan growled at him. She turned away from him, kneeling to face the other end of the tent. They could play the ignore game until the rain let up, and then they could at least fight each other until they were too exhausted to think about anything.

After a few minutes of what seemed like eternity, Ran-chan cleared her throat. An apology, he wondered. Nah, that wouldn't come until hell froze over.

She didn't turn to face him, and she spoke barely above a whisper. "Actually, Ryoga, the truth is that it's my fault. I was stupid, and I set this whole ball into motion." Curious, he looked over his shoulder at her as she spoke.

"I never told you why I went along with Pop's scheme. The truth is that in spite of the weirdness, my girl half had become part of me, and I'd accepted that as a part of me even though it scared me. But somehow, something kept just getting in the way between me and Akane. I thought it was the curse, maybe it was in part, but the truth was that I am a selfish brat who is too inconsiderate, and I hurt the people I care about. So when Pop said he'd found a way back to being normal, I figured this was my one shot to set things right with Akane, so I could be a man for her."

Ran-chan wiped some tears from her eyes. "Ah…must have something caught in my eye," she muttered, "But anyway; when this whole thing went over like a lead balloon, and I was stuck as a girl, I could already feel Akane slipping away. And in that panic, I was finally truthful with her. I, well, I embarrassed myself when she came into bath with me. She was talking about how she was going to stick by me as my friend through this hard time, and something told me that if I didn't make a move now, I'd lose her forever. So I kissed her, and I confessed my feelings for her. She said she loved me too, but she just couldn't have that kind of a relationship with another girl. And it scares me to admit this, but I really am as much of a girl as I am a guy. But guy or girl, I am attracted to women more than men, and so in this body I guess that makes me a lesbian. But Akane isn't. And when I blurted it all out to her, well, she had to go talk to my other half and corner him about not being true to his feelings. And well, as I guess you can tell, one thing must have led to another because here we are."

For a long time, the only sound to be heard was light breathing and the heavy patter of raindrops on the tent walls.

Ryoga felt a strange sort of respect for her. When faced with the walls closing in, she chose to fight and rage against the dying of the light. Even though she was moping here about it, it seemed almost gallant to give such a heartfelt confession of love in those circumstances.

"Honestly, Ranma, at least you can be sure you were in second place. I'm pretty sure I was never in the running to begin with. We'll just have to train our bodies extra hard now so that our minds can forget!"

"When you put it that way," she sighed, "It doesn't seem as bad."

"Even handicapped as you are right now, you still managed to get a kiss from Akane. Alas, my poor lonely heart doesn't know that that is like to kiss a beautiful girl," Ryoga opined.

Jeesh, and he accuses me of being melodramatic, thought Ran-chan. She hid her mischievous grin, and slid up close to where Ryoga sat. Before he knew it, Ran-chan had slid into his lap, her arms on his well-muscled shoulders. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and her breath tickled at his lips. Batting her eyelashes at him, she said huskily, "Would you like to find out?"

With a yelp, Ryoga crab-crawled out of the tent, into the pouring rain. A very cross and very soaked piglet walked back into the tent while Ran-chan laughed hysterically.

Chapter Text

"Akane! This is soooo boring!" Ran-chan cried. She had slumped over a bench, draping herself limply over the cheap, kitschy fabric cushion. The worker who had been attending to the two shrugged his shoulders, and simply walked away after he decided he wasn't getting paid enough to deal with this.

"Ranma, could you quit being so melodramatic?" huffed Akane, "Or did you forget that we're coming here for you?"

Ran-chan didn't bother to answer immediately. With the heavy sigh of a condemned man seeing a few fleeting moments of open blue sky, she rolled over on her back. The sterile fluorescent light drilled into her eyes, causing her to squint. She lazily draped an arm over her forehead, shielding her eyes from the light.

Akane was fuming silently. She chose to take some of her frustrations out on the store equipment; as she rifled through the racks of blouses, she snapped more than a few clothes hangers, sending the poor shirts fluttering to the carpet. Ran-chan felt a small pang of guilt that churned around inside her.

Ran-chan noticed the cashier ogling her out of the corner of her eye. She wanted to call him out on it, but her muscles felt weighed by sandbags, and she couldn't find the energy to bother. The whole mall was pure sensory overload to her. Just this little store was stuffed to the rafters with a bewildering array of different clothes, in a rainbow of different colors. When Akane started talking about chemise's or the many different varieties of hose, Ran-chan had found her eyes rolling back in her head. Which ultimately led up to this frackas.

Akane seemed to have calmed down a bit too, so Ran-chan summoned the energy stretch her muscles and get moving again. "I just don't see nothing wrong with my current clothes," she said, not caring if Akane was actually listening.

"Ranma, all the clothes that you own are either male clothes that don't fit you anymore, or fetish outfits that you've used as part of some harebrained scheme or to torment Ryoga."

"Well, when you put it that way…but still I don't see why this has to be so boring."

"It isn't boring you dummy, you're the one who is making it boring."

Somehow, that stubborn girl always brought out the worst in her. "Oh, I'm making it boring, huh?"

Akane groaned as she clenched her fists. The sound of popping knuckles was all the clue Ran-chan needed to take it back a notch. "Ranma, you're the worst! You could at least try to take an interest in what you wear. Who knows, you might even have a good time if you do!"

"But—"

"Believe me Ranma, I really don't want to be the one picking your wardrobe for you. But come on, you're not giving me a lot to go on. We've been here for almost two hours, and so far you've only showed any interest in like three pairs of pants and two shirts."

Ran-chan didn't want to say it out loud, but even getting this far had been quite hard. These weren't costumes that she'd be donning as part of some persona. They were going to shape her life, and right now that seemed like a bit too much responsibility.

"I'm trying to make an effort, Akane, I really am," Ran-chan huffed. "If you really think that I should get that skirt, then I'll try it on. But only because you think it's a good idea." She yanked the skirt out of Akane's hand, and stormed into the dressing room with a slam.

She heard a faint protest from one of the employees as the sound reverberated throughout the store. She paid it no mind. No sooner had she kicked off her silk trousers when a pair of shorts were thrown over the top of the dressing stall, and landed right on her face. Akane chided, "These too, dummy!" from the other side of the door.

Ran-chan growled in protest, but gave in anyway. The shorts looked far too small, but they stretched like rubber when Ranma pulled on them. They were a bit colorful for her tastes, but the jazzy red and purple color pattern seemed to go with her normal clothes. When she slipped them on, it was like a bolt of lightning hit her in the brain. After her epiphany, she stretched and performed a few basic kempo kata.

The shorts hugged tightly, almost like an athletic binding, but they didn't hinder her range of motion at all.

"Hey, these are great, Akane!" she cheered, "Whatdya call 'em?"

"They're called bike shorts," Akane said with a warm laugh. "They can be worn as underwear, and they're meant for athletes. I figured you'd like them."

"They may be your best idea all day. And that's including the ice cream sundaes. Still, I'm not too keen on the skirt."

"Are you kidding? That's the manliest skirt I could find."

Ran-chan sized up the skirt, holding it at arm's length in front of her. She glared at it suspiciously. Akane was sort of right about it; the pleated skirt was the same olive drab color as an army fatigue, and it was made of a very durable fabric. It even had pockets; not fake ones like some of the clothes Akane had shown to her earlier, but real honest-to-god pockets.

"I hate to admit it, but this has me written all over it. It's too girly to be a guy but too manly to be a girl." Ran-chan's heart almost skipped a beat as she said it. It was still so hard to admit, let alone say out loud. She hadn't been sure if embracing femininity at arm's length was the way to go when this shopping escapade began, and she was even less sure now. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," she muttered under her breath. The fit was comfortable enough, and it didn't get in the way of exercise or martial arts. She decided she was going to make herself like it, because this meant she could be feminine on her own terms. "I'll take it, I guess."

"Wonderful! There's another in khaki that I'll think you'll like."

After a bit more browsing, Ran-chan seemed to take a bit of interest in their shopping trip. She picked out a new pair of athletic shoes to replace the worn out pair she'd bought for her girl form not long after coming to Nerima, and some of those strange "sports bras" that Ukyo had sung the praises of. A bra to make your breasts look smaller and more manageable for exercise? she mused, What a world we live in.

After checking out, Ran-chan and Akane gathered up the fancy paper boutique bags the store brazenly branded its upscale image with. They headed to the mall's food court, exhausted from the ordeal.

"Ranma, you are a chore to shop with," Akane groaned in between bites of ramen.

Ran-chan slurped her noodles noisily and didn't answer. She eyed the bag full of clothes at her feet, and wondered if this had been a mistake. Sure, they may have been rather butch, but they were still women's clothes. It was just bits of denim or polyester stitched together, but it somehow felt like a huge commitment.

Akane saw the uneasy pout on the red-head's face. A twinge of guilt followed.

"Ranma, tell me what you're thinking."

I'm thinking that I'm living a lie, but I don't know what's true anymore anyway. I'm trying my best not to think of you doing the horizontal mambo with my other half. "I'm thinking that this ramen is way over priced for such a dinky little bowl."

The shopkeeper gave her the evil eye. Akane, embarrassed, tried to apologize for Ran-chan's rudeness. With any luck, she'd be too scandalized to dig any deeper.

"You're not getting out of this that easily, Ranma. Is it about the clothes? It might be too fast, and I'm sorry if you felt pushed into this."

"No, Akane, it isn't that. Except it is, but not really. It's just that…and it sounds so stupid saying it like this…but I guess I miss being able to choose."

"Whatdya mean?"

"I am a boy, right," Ran-chan stammered. Akane nodded, still not sure where this was going but she pretended to follow anyway. "But I'm also a girl."

Before Akane could say "Well duh!" Ran-chan flicked her on the end of the nose. "Ow, what was that for?"

"It's not what you're thinking, dummy. I mean like 'up here' I'm a girl too." Ran-chan pointed at her head, a frantic gesture at odds with the half-whisper she was speaking in. "I'm not sure if I was always like this, or the Jusenkyo curse made me that way. Either scares me."

Akane sipped her drink with a "huh," and mulled over what her friend had just said. Half an hour ago, Ranma had been protesting that he was still a guy and avoiding anything "girly" like the plague. Half an hour hence, Ranma drops this bombshell and suddenly Akane wonders how she came to be in this weird and wonderful world where everything is different.

"Well aren't ya gonna say something?" said Ran-chan desperately.

"I don't know what to say, Ranma."

Ran-chan thought it over long enough to slurp the last of the noodles out of the bowl. "I guess you don't really have to say anything. Just don't treat me like a freak or nothing."

"Never."

The pair began their trek back to the Tendo residence. They squeezed onto a busy train back to Nerima. Though they missed the worst of the end of the day commuter rush, they were still standing, packed together like sardines for most of the trip. When they were leaving the train station, Ran-chan suddenly stopped. She looked off into the distance, past the neat rows of compact suburban homes and small businesses.

"Home is this way, silly," said Akane.

It was perhaps the closest thing that she had to a home presently. But guilt was gnawing at her, because there was another place that should have been her home. She had been avoiding it, devoutly banishing the very thought of her mom. The fight was lost, and now she couldn't stop herself from wondering how disappointed her mom might be right now. Her masculinity was lost forever, and she'd been running away from it.

Her heart raced, and her chest felt like it was closing in on itself. The lost red-haired girl swallowed hard before turning to Akane. "Listen, there's something I've got to do. I've been putting it off way too long. You go on ahead, I'll meet you back at the Tend—home."

Akane frowned. "Oh no you don't! Whatever it is, I'm coming with you, because you're my best friend, and friends support each other."

Best friend? It was weird thought that felt so strange in her mouth as she silently repeated it to herself. But it was comforting. The constant heartache she'd been feeling didn't disappear and she didn't think it ever would. But it waned, and suddenly the prospect of never being with Akane didn't seem like the worst thing in the whole world. "Alright then, we'll go face my mom together. But I gotta warn you, this might end with you being my second in hara-kiri."

The flower of Japanese womanhood threw herself into her housework, frenzied by the restless emptiness of her household. The kitchen was bearing the brunt of her rough manner tonight. Night after night, Saotome Nodoka fought to fill her empty household, at least in spirit, and drive away the gnawing worry and the doubts that tore at her soul like hungry dogs. It was never enough though.

She had thought that when her oafish husband returned from yet another misguided quest for a cure, that just maybe things could find some semblance of normality. To her surprise when Genma and Ranma returned, aching and weary from the long trip, they were bursting with joy, not sulking in defeat. Ranma's curse had been cured, they'd boasted, though it was a long and arduous journey across forests of demons and seas of monsters. She'd played along with Genma's tall tale though, and laughed along with them. For a short moment, they felt like a family again.

It was just as well they'd decided to pack their bags and head off into the wilderness for a training journey, Nodoka decided. They were hiding something from her. They didn't know yet, but she'd heard them whispering to each other about something they had not wanted her to know. They were vague and defensive about certain aspects of the trip. But Nodoka was too polite to pry any deeper, and too embarrassed by her husband's duplicity to confront him.

She scrubbed harder at the pots and pans. If nothing else, her damn house could be immaculate, even if her marriage wasn't. Could it have been another woman? She didn't want to think that way about her husband. No, it was better to not really know, and just leave the mystery hanging over her head like the Sword of Damocles.

There was a knock at the front door. Startled, she dropped the pan, splashing hot, soapy water over her kimono and the kitchen floor. She growled in frustration before she caught herself. "Hold on, I'm coming," she said as she hurriedly cleaned the soapy water from her hands and clothes.

When she opened the door, Nodoka's face turned pale, and her breath caught in her throat. A familiar red-haired young woman was standing at the door. The girl's hands were thrust into her pockets as she stood their slouching. Her braided her was a little mussed up, and her clothes were fraying at the edges. She had a few scuffs on her skin, but nothing too serious, and she didn't seem to be paying much mind to it at all. The girl smiled sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders at her.

Someone else spoke first. "Hi Auntie Saotome. Sorry for the intrusion, but we were in the neighborhood and wanted to drop in."

"Oh yes, of course Akane my dear, do come in," Nodoka muttered, not taking her eyes off her son.

The red-haired ghost finally spoke: "Mom, there's something I need to tell you."

Without a word, Nodoka approached the girl. The girl took a single step back. There was a look of worry and doubt on her face. Nodoka seized the girl by the hem of her silken tangzhaung, and pulled her into a hug.

"Mom…"

Nodoka finally knew what Genma had been keeping from her. Somehow, she didn't care why, there were two Ranma's now, she quickly concluded. That the one who now bore the curse permanently was too afraid or embarrassed to come visit her mother broke Nodoka's heart.

After a good sob session that left Akane teary eyed as well, Nodoka invited the two girls inside. They sat down at the kotatsu, though they declined Nodoka's insistent offers of refreshments. After a few minutes of light chit-chat, Ran-chan avoided the usual inquisition, and volunteered her story. Though it didn't matter to Nodoka how it happened, Ran-chan explained what happened to her. Nodoka listened intently anyway. After the girl had finished, Nodoka had so many questions: "But why didn't you come home?"

Ran-chan didn't answer. She just looked away, filled with shame.

Nodoka tried to be calm "You're my son, Ranma!"

That means more to me than you'll ever know. Ran-chan wept into her mother's kimono. With the shock of something going so much better than she expected, she felt dizzy. But it was good at least to not feel like she was hiding.

"I knew going to Caledonia was a bad idea, son," said Nodoka, "Going so far from home is just asking for trouble."

"Catalonia, Mom. I'm pretty sure there's a big difference between the two."

"Regardless, I'm just glad you've made it home safe. A young lady like yourself is always in danger of losing her modesty in a foreign land."

Akane twiddled her thumbs, hoping this wouldn't brew into a fight. Ran-chan had said she'd been wanting to make the most of the experience, and the last thing she needed was her mother sitting on the sidelines telling her "I told you so."

Ran-chan took a deep breath. "Mom, I'm not just a young lady, I can take care of myself. Listen, this might be hard for you, but I've decided that I'm going to try to make the best of this. It's been scary, but I've decided that I wanted to live my life with no regrets, no tears, and no anxiety. That means embracing being a woman as well as a man."

Nodoka recoiled slightly, but maintained her composure. "I'm not quite sure I follow you, son."

"See! You still think of me as your son, but you also give me advice on how to be a young lady. I'm not the only one who is confused about what it means to be me anymore. None of my friends can seem to decide whether to treat me like a man or a woman. I've decided to embrace it, rather than fight it. I may not be able to change anymore, but I still embrace the best of being both."

The cicadas' chirps filled the long pause. The deer-chaser in the garden doinked several times. "Nice speech, did you prepare that?" said Akane.

"Hush, tomboy!"

"This is a lot to take in, son. I mean, will you forgive your old-fashioned mother if it takes her some time to adjust to this idea. I guess I'm glad you're coping with this, but this is going to take me some time." In spite of the obvious unease in her voice, Nodoka remained composed.

The hairs stood upon the back of Ran-chan's neck. Something didn't feel right. She stood up like a shot, taking a defensive stance.

Akana jumped to her feet as well. "Ranma, what is it?"

The wall exploded into a hail of plaster. A young woman forced through the breach, sending splintered laths across the room. Ran-chan effortlessly batted the flying wood away from her mother and Akane.

The woman rushed towards Ran-chan, swinging an oversized chuí over her head. "Ranma! I kill!" she shouted.

Ran-chan kicked at Shampoo's hand. It didn't dislodge the weapon, but at least sent her stroke wide, crushing the kotatsu instead. "Shampoo! I really don't have time for this."

"Ranma no have time left!" She swung the mace again. Ran-chan ducked under it, avoiding it by a hair's breadth. "Ward hand signs no help you! Fight back, coward!"

Ran-chan counterattacked, her rapid punches forced Shampoo off balance, giving her no opportunity to bring the heavy mace to bear before the Ran-chan darted away. The redhead burst out through the front window, ignoring the sting of the sharp glass fragments.

Shampoo followed after with murderous intent. With her mother and Akane out of the way now, Ran-chan didn't feel inhibited in her fight. She briefly thought about conniving a way to escape the fight, probably by forcing Shampoo to transform. But she rejected that plan. There was no point in evading this conflict. It hurt to have to fight Shampoo again like this. Though Shampoo annoyed the hell out of her, the crazed Amazon was still her friend.

Ran-chan expertly parried the next few strikes. For a moment, Shampoo seemed surprised at her foe's unexpected alacrity, but she pressed on. "You fight better as girl now. It no help you."

The sprays of shattered concrete were getting annoying, and sooner or later all the pelting by concrete and rebar would wear her down. That chuí had to go. Ran-chan snatched up a large piece of flying rock, and fast-balled it straight to Shampoo's face. When she dodged out of the way, her tempo was thrown off. Ran-chan plunged inside of Shampoo's guard, and seized Shampoo's arms.

"Why, Shampoo?! What's gotten into you?"

"Use your stupid head! Shampoo can't marry Ranma now. Shampoo lost boy-type Ranma to Violent-Girl! No can marry girl-type Ranma. Shampoo gave you kiss of death...only way I go home again is if I kill!"

Ran-chan wrenched the mace out of her hands. It tumbled end over end into the nearby canal. Her triumph was short lived, as Shampoo got a hard right cross in on the redhead's cheek. Ran-chan stumbled backwards, doing her best to parry the enraged Amazon's repeated hammer blows.

"I don't want to fight you!"

"No have choice!"

Ran-chan misread Shampoo's feint, pulling a hole in her defenses. She failed to block Shampoo's kick to her solar plexus. She stumbled backwards, winded and off-balance.

"Ranma! You pitiful! Is this your best!"

"I said I don't want to fight you!"

They traded blows again, and again Shampoo came out ahead. Ran-chan struggled to make sense of the situation; Shampoo seemed to move faster and hit harder than she'd ever been before. Her instincts were keen, and she showed great alacrity in peeling apart the layers of Ran-chan's defenses and throwing off the tempo of the Chestnut fist. The bruises kept adding up though, and nothing Ran-chan did seemed to in anyway deter Shampoo's assault.

The battle tore through the residential neighborhood, leaving a wake of shattered fences and plowed under gardens. Shampoo evaded being drawn into the gyre of the Hiryu Shoten Ha by forcing Ran-chan to pull out of the spiral set-up. Without a quick knock out blow, Ran-chan didn't see a way out of the fight. A little voice inside her head kept telling her "Shampoo is going to kill you if you don't get serious."

She could see Akane trying to catch up. "Akane! Stay out of this!"

"But you'll get yourself killed!"

She could see the fury in Shampoo's eyes intensify when she noticed Akane, and for a brief moment Ran-chan feared she'd give up chase and seek her revenge on Akane. As Shampoo's eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them, Ran-chan finally found the resolve that had been evading her: Life is worth fighting for. My life is worth fighting for.

"Akane, get out of here. This is between Shampo and me. Let's not give her any ideas about getting another chance by killing you."

"Yes! Violent-Girl no interfere."

Parry and riposte. Ran-chan found a rhythm in her fight again. But still, the pitiful shortness of her limbs sabotaged her efforts. While she was at home in her female body now, and did not misjudge her reach, her style of fighting seemed to be still less effective than it had been in her male body. "Stupid short limbs! Akane, go make sure that Mom is okay. I'll see if I can beat some sense into Shampoo."

"What'd ya call me? Grr, nevermind, just be safe Ranma!"

Alone now in the misty twilight, Shampoo redoubled her efforts. Her punches and kicks rained down on Ran-chan like meteors. Were it not for the grimace of pure murderous rage on Shampoo's face, Ran-chan would have been impressed, even proud, at the prowess that she was displaying. Shampoo had found her limits and began pushing beyond them by force of will.

Ran-chan finally landed a good blow to Shampoo's cheek. The amazon stumbled backwards, plowing through a light pole, but still her guard did not waver. That stubborn maniac, Ran-chan seethed in the brief respite, What's gotten into her?

"This is stupid Shampoo. We shouldn't be fighting like this."

The amazon woman launched into the melee once more, seemingly indefatigable. For a second, Ran-chan thought she saw tears in Shampoo's eyes. The amazon cried out a terrible wail of inarticulate rage, and once again Ran-chan found herself yielding ground to the Amazon.

"Girl-type Ranma's heart not in it. You should just lay down and die! This isn't the mighty warrior who banished me from my home. You imposter. Just die!"

"It doesn't have to be this way."

"You still have home to go to. People who love you. Shampoo have nothing without Nǚjié zú."

Ran-chan was launched backwards by a surprise kick. She crashed through a food cart before being caught by a bamboo fence that bent without breaking under the strain. Her body ached everwhere, deep into her bones. Bruises covered her body, and blood from her lips and nose had stained her clothes. Shampoo wasn't looking much better, but still decidedly had the upper hand. She launched herself at Ran-chan, intent on delivering the final blow. Still in a daze, Ran-chan's parry only ensured the kick struck her in the face instead of the chest.

With vengeance swelling within her, Shampoo piled upon Ranma's cheek the sum of all the anger and frustration she'd felt since they'd met. Her heart's hot passion burst upon her foe as a blood-curdling kiai. But neither the supple bamboo nor the red-haired girl broke under the assault.

Ran-chan summoned up ever last bit of her will, and in a flash of inspiration, threw back her assailant. She closed the gap, lung inside of Shampoo's reach, forgoing artful kempo punches for savage strikes with her elbows, shins and knees. Shampoo struggled to defend against the onslaught, and with each yelp of pain by the amazon, Ran-chan forced down her nagging conscience. It wasn't just her own life she was fighting for, but Shampoo's as well. She knew in her heart that even at the worst, Shampoo wasn't a murderer.

Twice, Shampoo seemed to shift the tide, and twice Ran-chan foiled her efforts. Shampoo rejected each opportunity to break out of the melee, and fight another day. Instead, she yielded ground cautiously, engaging in a fighting retreat while Ran-chan sought to prod her into traps. They would be settling accounts tonight. It was dark now, with no light to guide their battle save the weak glow of distant street lamps.

Finally, Ran-chan summoned the will to power the Moko Takabisha. In the dim light, Shampoo mistook the pause in her assault for exhaustion, and failed to dodge the ki attack. It struck Shampoo in the shoulder, knocking her across a wide canal. She smashed into a concrete bridge abutment before slumping down in a heap below. Panicked, Ran-chan leaped across the canal, fearing the worst.

Shampoo tried to rise, but her body ached with protest until she yielded to the cold cement. "Finish it," she muttered.

Ran-chan examined her for signs of serious injury, deflecting her beaten foe's attempts to swat her away, "You're hurt, Shampoo. Let's get you to Tofu-sensei, he'll get you patched up in no time."

"Amazon who can't fulfill kiss of death is no Amazon. Kill me and get it over with."

"No. Regardless of how annoyin' you are, I ain't gonna kill you."

"You mock me!" Shampoo hissed between coughs. Some blood came up.

"I ain't gonna kill one of the few friends I have, no matter how stubborn you are." Ran-chan lifted the struggling amazon to her feet. When she couldn't stand, she was swept up into a bridal carry.

"Cruel boy-girl, you leave Shampoo alone, no family or home to go to!"

"Cut the act! Don't think I didn't notice how broken up you were earlier. You didn't wanna kill me, and I don't wanna kill you."

A dagger of guilt stuck in Shampoo's heart. "Of course Shampoo no want to kill airen, but have no choice. Is Amazon law. If Shampoo don't, she no Amazon."

"Then don't. It's a stupid law anyway."

"Then what will Shampoo do? Great-grandmother will banish Shampoo if disobeyed. No have home now." Shampoo teared up as she reflexively clutched at her heart.

"You have a home. It's here in Japan with your friends, who won't make you kill the people you love for some stupid laws."

"But—"

"No buts!" Ran-chan gave the distraught girl a quick kiss on the forehead. "Let's call this the Japanese kiss of life. It means you have to live to a ripe old age and be happy. It's the rules."

"Boy-girl just made that up."

"Doesn't matter, it still cancels out the kiss of death."

Shampoo laughed uneasily before the pain forced her to pipe down.

"Listen, Shampoo. I'm being serious."

"I know. Is just that Ranma leave bloody lip mark on forehead. Is very weird."

Chapter Text

Kasumi had just started preparing lunch when she heard the doorbell ring. "Oh, I wonder who that could be," she said quietly. She hummed a merry little tune as she went for the door. She found the male Ranma waiting, his hands nervously twiddling.

"Yo, Kasumi. Long time no see!"

He seemed pent-up, almost awkward, as he stood there, like he had spent the morning breaking in a new pair of shoes. Kasumi raised an eyebrow, muttering "interesting," under her breath, but otherwise remained demure. "Oh Ranma, you needn't be so formal. You know you're always welcome here. Why don't you come in and I'll pour you some tea."

"Gee, thanks Kasumi. Um, so would you happen to know what Akane is up to?"

Ooh, an unplanned visit. Kasumi wondered what the two lovebirds would be up to today. And while she didn't entirely approve of the course their courtship had taken, she was still glad that they weren't caught in complete denial about their feelings. While she was quite conservative about such things, she liked to think she had the practical wisdom to know when to bend the rules.

"Oh, she's upstairs. Painting her nails I believe. I can go let her know you're here if you'd like."

"Nah, I'd rather surprise her. Unless well, the other is here."

Kasumi stopped in her tracks. Her nose wrinkled as she wondered what the boy meant by this, but she didn't want to dig any further. Still, it seemed so wrong for those two to be so estranged from each other.

"I mean, don't get me wrong," he said, waving his hands defensively, "It's just that I'm the last guy she's gonna wanna see right now. I don't wanna get up in her face, especially if she's trying to spend some time with Akane."

"That's mighty considerate of you," Nabiki chimed in as she strutted through the kitchen.

"How long have you been listening?" said Ranma.

"Oh, long enough. I guess I'm proud of you. Maybe all that time as a girl made you learn some sensitivity."

"Hey, you cut that out!"

"I mean it. You can be dumber than a second coat of paint at times, but your heart seems to be in the right place now. You don't want to run in and brazenly take Akane away from Ran-chan. Well, not any more than you already have."

"You make it sound like I've been scheming this," he growled.

"He has a point, sister-dear," said Kasumi, "I don't think you're being very fair to him." Even though she gave her chastisement of Nabiki her undivided attention, Kasumi still managed to pour Ranma's tea without spilling a drop. Nabiki found her sister's knack for this somewhat disturbing. "Anyway, girl-Ranma is out seeing a movie with Hiroshi and Daisuke, and I think they were going to spend the day downtown afterwards."

That all too familiar little black piggy came sauntering into the room, dragging his pack across the tatami mats. He oinked loudly as he struggled to drag the pack along. "Hold on a minute Ryoga-dear, I'll get the hot water," Kasumi giggled.

Ryoga oinked in protest, but Kasumi was inexorable. Soon, a stream of steaming hot water was poured on him, and a very naked Ryoga was left sitting by the Kotatsu.

For a second, Ranma thought he saw a devious smirk on Kasumi's face, but it was soon hidden by her normal joyous nonchalance. "Oh my, forgetful me," Kasumi playfully scolded herself. She mimed slapping herself on the wrist.

Ryoga, already red with embarrassment, jumped to his feet to protest. Steam wafted from his glistening muscles. As he stood there, the very image of Adonis, Ranma found himself having an involuntary gasp. The more he tried to ignore Ryoga, the more Ryoga's well-cut muscles and firmly toned behind wormed its way into his mind's eye. He'd always blamed it on the curse before. He tried to pretend that this was just a lingering after effect, but it seemed like a lie.

Nabiki enjoyed the show, but not so much to not notice Ranma's quiet gasp or faint blushing. "Intriguing," she said to herself.

In a panic, Ryoga reached for Kasumi's tea kettle so he'd at least have something to cover his nakedness. But when he heard the tea kettle clang on the floor, he realized he'd snatched the wrong thing.

"Oh my, that's very forward of your Ryoga," Kasumi stated matter-of-factly, "I didn't know you felt that way about me. I'm very flattered, but I'm going to need my hand back."

"What a tease," said Nabiki. "I didn't know you had it in you, Sis."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Nabiki."

"Sure you don't. Let's get poor Ryoga dressed before he dies of embarrassment. Ranma-baby, I think you're drooling."

They left the darkened movie theater to face a flood of noonday sunlight. Ran-chan squinted while her eyes adjusted, mulling over her lingering questions. The more she puzzled over the plot, the less it seemed to make sense. As some color started to return to the washed out world, she resolved to just give in and ask Hiroshi or Daisuke. After all, they'd been waiting patiently to see this film for months.

"That was great!" said Hiroshi. He idly stretched the muscles of his arms and torsos as they left the theater. Ran-chan found herself seized by an urge to stretch as well. Sitting idly for two hours just wasn't in her nature.

"I'll say," said Daisuke, "It was sad to see an end to such a beautiful rivalry, but I think they left on a high note."

"I don't think it made any sense," Ran-chan piped in.

"Ehh?" they both exclaimed.

Ran-chan talked excitedly, emphasizing her points with sweeping gesture, "None of it made sense. Char's rivalry with Amuro, his ambitions, his plan. It all seemed senseless."

"How can you say that, Ranma? You haven't seen any of Gundam before this movie," said Daisuke.

"Plus, we already explained their history," added Hiroshi, "They've always been destined for this. Their ideals were always so against one another. Plus, there's Lalah Sune."

They loved talking down to her when it came to their hobbies. It reminded her of how competitive she could get about issues related to martial arts. It seemed very clear that in spite of their eagerness to share their hobbies with her, they still regarded her as an outsider. Was she just supposed to take this on faith from huge fans of the show like them? She still had questions: "Then how come they were friends for a while, both fighting those space Nazis?"

Daisuke asked, "Which ones, the Zeon or the Titans?"

"I think she means the Titans," Hiroshi guessed.

"Yeah, those are the ones! Didn't those Titans have like the same plan as Char in this movie?"

"That was different," Daisuke cried. "Like I told ya, the Titans wanted to rule over the spacenoids, and they destroyed colonies when people resisted."

"Oh yeah?" Ran-chan said with a huff, "How is that any different than what Char did when people didn't want to go along with this plans? He was going to destroy the Earth. And don't give me that 'souls weighed down by gravity' phooey."

Daisuke growled. He was getting seriously indignant, especially about Ran-chan not liking such tragically noble hero like Char. The nerve! How could she not see it?

Hiroshi's cooler head prevailed. He never really saw eye to eye with Daisuke's serious fanboying for Char Aznable. "Oh look, an ice cream stand," he said with as much excitement as he could muster. Truth be told, he was still stuffed from when Ran-chan had insisted they get lunch before the movie, and from the popcorn she'd gotten during it.

But the play worked, and in a heartbeat Ran-chan's thoughts went from arguing to getting an ice cream sundae. "Hey, let's get ice cream!" she squealed like an excited little kid. It became pretty clear she wouldn't take no for an answer, taking both by the hand and dragging them over to the ice cream stand.

The middle aged man at the counter's face wrinkled up in mild distaste. But he liked to think of himself as a man of business, not a moral guardian. "Well, we don't often see one girl dating two boys, but I suppose I could still give you our two-for-one couple's sundae special."

Hiroshi tried to explain, "Actually we're—"

Ran-chan elbowed him in the gut, drowning his protests out with a coughing fit, "Gee thanks mister!" she squealed, "Two best friends both confessed to me, and I just couldn't bear to see them pitted against each other. I like them both, and I couldn't bear to ruin their friendship." She gave both of the boys a peck on the check to sell the story.

Her surreptitious glare at Daisuke was more than enough to convince him to play along. While the clerk busily prepared their sundaes, Daisuke whispered, "Is there no length you won't go to get free food?"

That sounded like a challenge. Ran-chan waited until the shopkeeper had his attention turned back to them. Then she gave Daisuke a quick kiss on the lips.

Daisuke sat their stunned, his fingers trembling on his lips. While Daisuke rebooted, Hiroshi started to protest. But he caught a glimpse of the menu and the listed prices for ice cream at this bustling downtown shop. "—Actually, that's a really good deal. Kiss away, Saotome."

When she was sure Daisuke was back in the real world, Ran-chan whispered, "Does that answer your question?"

They spent the rest of the afternoon browsing the shops in the area. Their first stop was a comics store, which they browsed at Daisuke's request. Ran-chan found quite bored. While Daisuke was enraptured, and Hiroshi seemed at least mildly interested, Ran-chan was never really into manga. She'd read a few issues here and there, but she didn't really follow anything. Her life was always too chaotic for such pastimes. At least some of the art looked pretty cool. She looked at the well-illustrated covers while she batted away the ham-fisted attempts by the shop's regulars to hit on her or impress her with the recall of minutia she really couldn't care less about.

After about half an hour, Daisuke took her by the hand and lead her into the back corner of the shop.

"Oy, what's the big idea, bub?" she said.

"Trust me, this is gonna be great. The clerk was distracted, so I figured we'd sneak back into the pervert's section."

Boobs: the word kept running through Ran-chan's head. Sure, they'd lost a bit of their glamour when she'd acquired a pair of her own, but they remained alluring. But back in this secluded back corner, she was positively assaulted by pictures of them. It was almost too much, breaking the rules and sneaking around like this. They were all blushing profusely, and she wondered what demon had possessed Daisuke to bring them back here.

It smelled musty back here. Ran-chan idly wondered why. Curiosity soon got the better of her, and she picked up an issue that particularly caught her eye. The woman on the front looked a bit like Akane, and that drew her to the comic like forbidden fruit. She thumbed through it, only to discover that some of the pages were sticking together.

Ick, ick, ick! Whatever arousal she was feeling was driven down by the revulsion, and now she wanted to leave. "Guys, we should go," she whispered.

"Don't wimp out on me now, Ranma," said Daisuke.

Hiroshi shuddered when he saw the sticky film coating some of the pages. "No, I'm with Ranma on this one, Dai," he said, tugging on his shirt collar uncomfortably. "There's got to be a better way…" He trailed off, as though his mouth were unwilling to say what his brain was thinking.

They left after fifteen minutes. Ran-chan spend those moments torn between discomfort and arousal. Some of the erotic art was even tasteful, and the depictions of two women in intimate embrace thrilled her, but the seedy atmosphere ruined the experience.

As they left the shop, Hiroshi and Daisuke worked very hard to hide the tents in their trousers. Both seemed embarrassed by the whole experience, and for several minutes no one spoke as they walked aimlessly. It seemed impossible to think of the pair like she had before. Sure, they'd begged Ranma to be introduced to the pig-tailed girl, and gushed about how attractive they thought she was before they knew that she was just Ranma's girl mode. But she hadn't quite been confronted with the notion of her friends being sexual creatures before today.

They had tried, and failed, to hide the lust they still felt for her body. They had tried to compensate by doubling down on treating Ran-chan like just another one of the guys. It seemed to have backfired on them. Still, she wasn't upset with them, even if there was a growing sense of awkwardness. They couldn't control how they felt any more than she could, and they'd tried their best.

Almost on autopilot, she left the busy sidewalk, turning onto a dirt path that led into a small, densely wooded park. Hiroshi and Daisuke followed silently. As the sound of traffic slowly faded into the background, Ran-chan breathed a small sigh of relief. This would at least give some privacy, because there was a lot she wanted to talk about.

She led them into a thicket off the beaten path before turning around abruptly to face them, thrusting her hands into her skirt pockets. She hoped she didn't seem too upset. She still had to get this off her chest. "That was weird, guys," she sputtered.

"Perverted even," Daisuke said solemnly. "Listen Ranma, I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean to creep you out."

Hiroshi's eyes flitted around before finally settling at Ran-chan's feet. "We were just trying to treat you like one of the guys."

Daisuke nodded. He looked at her in a way that was somewhere between a hungry man salivating over a home-cooked meal and an artist appraising a well-executed masterpiece.

"But it's hard," Hiroshi continued, "And sometimes you make it harder. You're even dressed sort of like a girl today. Sometimes I look at you, like when you sit down cross-legged, talking like a man, and there's no doubt in my mind that you're still the guy I knew. But then there's times when you play the girl, and you do it so well that I wonder if you're really acting. It's confusing, and I don't want to be upset with you. But I don't know if we can keep pretending you're just one of the guys."

Ran-chan could sense the unspoken confession. Desire, not just base and animalistic yearning, but also affection. This wasn't at all new to her. Shampoo and Ukyo had similar feelings towards her. Whereas they had been absolutely shameless in both word and deed, Hiroshi and Daisuke's crush on her was a guilty one, and they didn't want to talk about it.

"I guess we just wish things could go back to the way they were before," Daisuke muttered. He slumped against a tree and sighed heavily. The emotional roller-coaster of the day had worn him down to the nub.

Hiroshi nodded in agreement. Everyone stared uneasily, afraid that anything that might be said could be just too much. Hiroshi finally broke the silence. "It was simpler when you could change back or weren't dressing half way like a girl."

For once, Ran-chan fought back the urge to blurt out immediately. She silently counted to ten. Though she galled at being told how much simpler things were before her life got turned upside down, she bit her tongue. "Here's the thing guys, I didn't change. Not in here." She placed a hand over her heart. "What I want to do and who I want to be hasn't changed. I'm just fighting to feel less shame about things. The truth is my girl half is as much a part of me as my boy half. And I didn't really appreciate that until I lost it. Some days I wake up, and I feel like I'm half what I used to be. That feeling won't get any better by feeling sorry for myself, and hating my girl half. Do you feel me?"

They at least nodded in affirmation. She doubted they fully understood what she was trying to get at it, but it was a start. They still had that look of shame in their eyes.

She swallowed hard, summoning up her courage. She hated to go into the minefield of attraction again, but it had to be done. "Listen guys, I know that you've got a bit of a crush on me."

"What, no!" Daisuke denied a bit too forcefully.

"Shush," she scolded, "I know that you feel guilty about it, because you don't want to disrespect me, or have it come between our friendship, and you probably think it is a little bit gay to have a thing for a girl who used to be a dude."

Hiroshi cringed slightly. "Gay is a bit too strong of a word," he said defensively.

She rolled her eyes. This would be so much easier if they stopped interrupting. "Yo, all I'm trying to say is that I don't hate you for it. Just don't beat yourself up about it. Compared to most of the people I've had chasing me, you guys have been paragons of virtue."

For a brief moment, she thought about what it would be like to date Hiroshi or Daisuke. To her surprise, the thought wasn't immediately revolting. The idea of dating a guy still seemed strange, but it no longer seemed like a betrayal of her masculinity. The bigger issue in her mind was that she'd have to pick one of them, and even if she were so inclined, that would certain put a strain on their friendship.

The three quickly agreed to leave the matter at that. After all, there still was a whole afternoon that could be spent having fun. Hiroshi and Daisuke at least seemed like they were feeling less uneasy in Ran-chan's presence.

Ranma and Ryoga had chosen to deal with their frustrations the best way they knew how: by beating the living daylights out of each other. Still something seemed amiss in their contest. For a moment, Ranma thought he would lose himself in the match, and leave all of his baggage behind him.

But it just wasn't working. Ryoga was fighting as skilled as ever. Hell, he was more disciplined than normal, conserving his energy, and keeping his attacks focused and tight. But the passion seemed to be missing. Ranma tried to provoke a bit more out of him, amping up the aggression level. He took more calculated risks, increasing the speed of his attacks, and no longer taking the time to disengage from the melee and reassess.

The strategy worked at first. Ranma landed a few solid blows on Ryoga's chin and collar. But it didn't get Ryoga's dander up. For a second, Ranma thought about taunting him about Akane. No, that would be too low, even for me, he scolded himself. Great, now he couldn't stop thinking about Ryoga's impressive physique, or the rugged handsome look he was growing in to.

"What was that Ranma?" Genma taunted from the sidelines, "An exhibition? You need emotional content!"

"Believe me Pops, that is the last thing I need right now."

They stopped at an electronics store at Hiroshi's insistence. He had said that he wanted to pick up some parts for the radio he was working on. Naturally, this is why he spent most of his time ogling the fancy new gizmos and gadgets in the shop.

Ran-chan felt more than a little lost. She wasn't sure what half the stuff in the store did, and the rest she wasn't really interested in. Sure, the shiny new tvs were nice, but she didn't exactly spend a lot of time loafing around in front of one anyway. But they had a karaoke machine set up for demo, and that seemed interesting so she played around with it.

A very cheerful and perky attendant quickly rushed to her. The woman's uniform was immaculate; she must have ironed it this morning, and she clearly was putting in 110 percent in this job. "Hi there miss, is there anything I can help you out with?" she beamed.

"Uh well," Ran-chan stuttered. The clerk had moved in for the kill in a flash. Had this been an opponent, Ran-chan would have been caught flat-footed and might even be in some serious trouble. She wondered if the woman had any martial arts training as the relentless customer service assault began. "Well, I'm just looking around really. I'm actually here with someone else, he's going to be picking up some—"

The clerk didn't take no for an answer. "Oh I don't mind," she said all too cheerfully, "You can call me Ibuki, miss?"

"Um, Ranma."

"Nice ta meetcha, Umranma!"

"Actually, Ibuki-san, it's just Ranma."

"Just Ibuki, please. And I never miss an opportunity for a good joke. I hope a beautiful young lady like yourself won't feel self-conscious."

Is she hitting on me? Ran-chan wondered. She really couldn't tell whether Ibuki was naturally this "warmly aggressive." She'd been instructed, in several of the odd-jobs she'd worked chasing some hare-brained scheme, to be "warmly aggressive" in dealing with customers. She didn't know what that meant until now.

"Anyway, Ranma, I couldn't help but notice as you were playing with this demo unit that you have a lovely singing voice."

Definitely hitting on me, Ran-chan concluded. Thought it wasn't exactly unwelcome. Ibuki was a tall, leggy blonde; definitely easy on the eyes, and she had the same exuberance that had always attracted the redhead to Akane.

To Ran-chan's surprise, the compliment made her feel a bit warm and fuzzy. Maybe she was finally getting to the point where she didn't feel guilty about girls other than Akane. "Well, thanks I guess. This seems like some good equipment, though I really wouldn't know about that."

"Actually, this thing is a piece of shit. It doesn't do you any justice. What you really need, dear, is a karaoke unit like this one." Ibuki gave a hefty smack to a large amplifier stack to punctuate her sentence. "This baby here is what you want. She's got high quality vacuum tubes, a full effects set complete with pedals, and of course, the best selection of hit songs you could ask for!"

Okay, maybe it was just a sales pitch. Ran-chan didn't know how much more of this see-sawing back and forth she could take.

Suddenly Ibuki was uncomfortably close. She'd wrapped her arm around Ran-chan's shoulders, pulling the martial artist's body next to hers. She swept her other arm, pointing out into the distance. "Instead of a rack of flashlights, imagine that's the Budokan amphitheater. And it's filled with your adoring fans."

Ran-chan tried her best, she really did. She just couldn't help but envisioning an entire stadium filled to rafters with clones of Tatewaki Kuno. An involuntary shudder rippled down her body at the thought.

"You're gonna want to have the best equipment to bring out the best in a voice like yours. And this one, as you can see, is quite special. So that your adoring fans can hear you in the back, the volume knob on this ace custom goes all the way up to eleven!"

Ran-chan had no idea what that meant, but it sounded cool.

The boisterous blonde was inching closer. She was almost whispering now, her voice low and smoky, breath ticking at Ran-chan's ear. "Or maybe you just want to sing something intimate for that special someone."

It was too much. She couldn't stand another round of this yo-yoing. She looked Ibuki right in the eye, giving her best saucy grin. "Are you trying to sell me a karaoke machine, or are you trying to ask me out on a date."

The blonde was briefly taken aback by Ran-chan's boldness. At the very least, Ibuki had stepped out of her personal space. Ibuki said, mildly flustered, "Well, I admit I was coming on a little strong, but you are really cute. And well, to hell with it. I'm not free tonight, but tomorrow is great. I get off at seven. If you're up for it, I might be getting off again later." She gave Ranma a quick peck on the cheek. "Ta-ta for now, Ranma. I look forward to seeing you again."

Ran-chan stood in silence for a moment, stroking at her chin pensively. After concluding that this strange encounter did actually happen and wasn't some hallucination, she decided to go find Hiroshi and Daisuke.

She found them salivating over some brand new Laserdisc players.

Daisuke noticed her first. "Hey Ranma, see anything cool in here?"

She slouched against a display case full of Laserdics. "I think I may have sort of accidentally kind of asked the girl who works here out on a date."

"Just another day in the life of Saotome Ranma, right?" Daisuke teased.

"The foreign looking genki girl with the nice…assets?" Hiroshi asked.

Ran-chan nodded.

Daisuke tried not to leer, but he lacked a certain level of grace. So his attempts to be subtle in checking out the perky clerk Ibuki ended up only being more obvious. After his quick appraisal, he nodded approvingly. "You gonna go for it?"

She shrugged. "I guess. I mean, she is kind of cute, and who knows, it could be fun."

"But you're still feeling mopey over Akane rejecting you, right?"

Ran-chan rolled her eyes. "Nice of you to put it so delicately, Daisuke."

"Look, I guess I'm saying you might as well have a good time, Ranma. And Hiro would be saying that too if he wasn't dreaming about finally saving up enough to buy his first Laserdisc player." He glared over at Hiroshi to see if his friend noticed.

"Hey," Hiroshi protested, "I'm getting close. And they're amazing! Each disc can hold half an hour of perfect broadcast quality video!" He held one up in Daisuke and Ran-chan's faces for them to marvel at. It was the Kurosawa classic Sanjuro.

It was a good choice on Hiroshi's part, Ran-chan decided. Any movie with martial arts in it was a good movie in her book. The disc itself was the size of a vinyl LP or a large dinner plate. It came in a protective sleeve just like a vinyl record.

"Pristine video," Hiroshi lectured, "digital sound. A whole movie can fit on just two or three of these discs."

"What a world we live in now," Ranma said, feigning excitement.

Ryoga was lost. After that conga line of constant embarrassment (just another normal day at the Tendo residence, he thought bitterly), why did he have to get himself lost again? Most days, he could make it from the Tendo's to the park he had pitched his tent at fairly reliably. He might miss a few turns, but he'd make the journey in a reasonable amount of time.

But after an hour of walking, his tent was nowhere to be seen. The frustration was quite evident on his face as he walked.

An old man sitting on his porch seemed to take notice of Ryoga's plight. "I'm rooting for you there, sonny!" the old man shouted, "It such a tragedy to be afflicted with hemorrhoids so young. But we'll get through this together. I know the name of a very good doc who can help you out with that."

Okay, maybe he was grimacing a bit too hard. But he couldn't help but have his mind go to dark places. Spending all that time with Ranma and Akane today was…difficult. That was how he told it to himself. It was a word that properly understated how he felt, for he was afraid that if he really let himself stop and dwell on his heartbreak, he'd deflate like a week old balloon.

Ranma and Akane seemed happy together. Sure, they still fought a lot. But they did love each other. He fought back the guilt over all the times he'd tried to break the two of them up. Because Akane seemed to think the world of him, and talk about what a good friend he's been to her.

Somehow, he had to tell her, but he didn't know how. Akane loved her dear pet P-chan. But she also undressed in front of the little piggy, and confessed all of her deepest, darkest secrets to him. After all, what could a little pig do to betray her trust?

Just when it seemed like the shame was getting unbearable, Ryoga heard a familiar voice. "See you later, Hiroshi, Daisuke."

Huh, what's Ranma doing here? he wondered.

Everyone else seemed to treat girl-Ranma and boy-Ranma as separate people. But for Ryoga, they were both just Ranma. Though he did find it more agreeable to hang out with the girl one, he felt similarly to both of them. At times, Ranma annoyed the shit out of Ryoga. His pride was insufferable, and he seemed to get everyone's attention. But Ryoga also had to admit that the bastard deserved most of the attention. In truth, the lost boy had come to respect Ranma immensely. Not that he'd ever admit that.

Ryoga hiked up the straps of his backpack, taking the opportunity to stretch. Might as well go say hi, he figured, and though he'd never ask for help directly, he hoped that Ranma would get the clue and help him find his way home.

She smiled at him when she saw him. She'd dressed half-way feminine today, leaving her normal tangzhaung and slacks behind for a logo t-shirt and a skirt. She jogged over to his side of the street, hurdling over a passing bicyclist. "Hey Ryoga, long time no see," said Ranma.

"Hey Ranma, uh, fancy meeting you here."

There she went with that Cheshire cat grin again. "You're lost again, aintcha?"

"N-no! I'm just taking a stroll here, looking for good places to train."

"Come on now, piggy-wiggy, just admit that you're lost."

"You've got it all wrong Ranma."

"I know you can do it. It takes a big strong man like you to admit when he's wrong." The way she fawned at him, so cute, so girlish, it drove him nuts. She always knew exactly how to get a rise of him, and no matter how much Ryoga tried to remind himself that it was his old friend/rival that was acting so coquettish to him, he just couldn't resist.

Before he knew it, Ranma had him backed into a corner. That devilishly cute menace to society pounced on him, and his feeble defense broke immediately. He found himself on the ground, with Ranma straddling his chest as she pinched and pulled at his cheeks.

"Just give in Ryoga. Say you're lost. Say it!" she taunted.

He fought back as best he could, but with the tears in his eyes and the general shock, he failed to tear away her hands from his face, succeeding only at awkwardly pawing at her chest.

It must have stopped being funny for Ranma, because the instant he blindly grabbed at her, the claw-like grip on his cheeks relaxed. She blushed furiously. "Hey, cut that out!" she cried. Still in fight or flight mode, Ryoga pinched back.

"Seriously man, leggo of me. This ain't funny anymore."

Only then did Ryoga realize he'd been nipping and pinching at her breasts. His hands shot away like lightning, but the damage was done.

"You pig, don't you know a girl's boobs are sensitive?"

Ryoga was now terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought. But since he hadn't been beaten into a bloody pulp yet, he figured he may as well ask. "Your…" he couldn't even spit out the word, "Why are they sticking up?"

"My nipples?" Oh she was so uncouth. "I guess they just get that way when I get, uh, excited."

Did she just…? was all he could think.

To Ryoga's great surprise, she didn't immediately jump up off him. She gracefully rolled off his abdomen, and sat down beside his trembling form. "Ah man," she huffed, "I've gotten to second base with Ryoga. Let's get you home before something even more stupid happens."

She pulled a half-empty flask of tea out of Ryoga's pack, and dumped it over his head.

Ranma had carried him back to his tent. The little pig had struggled at first, but soon he accepted his fate. Ranma was going to help him out whether he liked it or not, so he gave in to the inevitable, embraced the horror, and let his archrival pet his little piggy head and take him home.

When they reached the tent, Ranma dutifully unpacked Ryoga's things and set up the little portable stove to heat up some water. When Ryoga was human again, she started cooking dinner for the both of them.

It was a struggle putting pants on without upending the stove in the small tent, but somehow Ryoga managed it. Ranma found it hilarious watching him squirm around like a worm.

Ryoga decided against putting on a shirt. After all, Ranma was blushing so it must have been quite warm in the tent. "You're all red in the face, Ranma." He could have sworn that the girl's cheeks turned a little bit redder right before his very eyes. "Here, I'll open the door and let some fresh air in."

"Stupid sexy Ryoga," Ranma cursed under her breath.

"Huh, did you say something Ranma?" Ryoga asked, not in the mean-spirited sense of already knowing the answer, but actually wondering what she'd said.

"I said thanks for that, Ryoga."

"Ah, well, I guess you're welcome Ranma. Though you don't have to cook dinner, I can manage on my own."

"Oh, it's no trouble really. I had gotten some things on my way home anyway since I was going to be back home well after supper time. I figured I'd just play around in the kitchen and see what I could make for myself, but it's always more fun to cook for a friend."

In that instant, Ryoga finally could no longer deny it. His rivalry would always be an unrequited one. He felt silly, having nursed his grudge with Ranma for so long, when Ranma didn't feel the same way. Maybe it was time to let go. Ranma couldn't be all that bad if she didn't hold his little theatrics against him.

Ranma had made curry. It was a bit unorthodox, but still definitely delicious. For the first time, Ryoga didn't mind that the pretty girl doing him a favor was Ranma. Their friendship seemed to have survived a lot worse than some awkward and confusing sexual attraction, so it seemed silly to worry about it.

After cleaning up the camp after dinner, they sat out under the stars and talked. It was a warm night, and summer was definitely on its way. When Ryoga laid down in the soft grass to gaze up at the stars, to his surprise, Ranma laid down next to him, resting her head right next to his.

They gave each other brief run downs about the day's weirdness.

"So yeah, I accidentally asked a cute girl out on a date," Ranma said, more than a bit embarrassed.

Ryoga stared at Ranma suspiciously, "How did you manage that?"

"I'll tell you when I figure it out myself. We were at this hobby store, and I couldn't tell if she was trying to sell me things or hitting on me. So I got this bright idea to force the issue. And now I guess I'm seeing her after she gets off work day after tomorrow."

The idea of two girls dating seemed bizarre to Ryoga. He couldn't wrap his head around it. "But you're a girl now Ranma," he stated matter-of-factly, as though it were some obvious omission on Ranma's part.

"Yeah, but I spent most of my life as a boy."

"Well, yeah, that makes sense in your case. But she didn't. Why would she like other girls?"

"Why wouldn't she like girls?"

"Uh…It's just weird."

"Dude, you're gonna have to get with the program. Let's not let this get in the way of being friends, especially now that we're not fighting over Akane."

"I already said it made sense for you. Listen man, I'm trying to understand, I really am. It's just some strange idea I've never heard of."

There was a long silence. Ranma scooted a bit closer to Ryoga, pressing up against his body. It was hard to get over her old knee-jerk reactions. But the night was getting a bit chilly, and sooner or later she was going to have to get used to being attracted to that dork. At least tonight, she resolved, she was going to just enjoy their bond and the warmth of his touch without feeling guilty.

It made Ryoga uneasy, but he calmed that weird churning feeling in his gut. It was getting cold, and Ranma was quite warm anyway. He tried to tell himself that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to her body. Maybe he'd believe it eventually.

"So, I'm beginning to think that Kasumi is a lot more devious than she puts on," Ryoga said out of the blue.

"You too huh? Glad I'm not the only one."

"Well, today she seemed quite keen at getting every opportunity she could to get me naked and generally messing around with my curse. I think she finds the fact that I lose my clothes when I transform funny."

"Yes," Ranma deadpanned, "What other possible reason would a girl want to get a guy like you naked for?"

Chapter Text

Ranma took a glance at her watch: it read 6:55, and she always kept it a little fast. She rounded the corner briskly, and now the electronics shop was in sight. The street traffic had slowed compared to her last visit. The overpowering stench of city, the mélange of car exhaust, body odor, rotting food and industrial fumes, had been suppressed by a recent rain shower.

Ranma was soaked. At least no transformation hijinks followed that experience. She had chosen to dress for the occasion. She'd borrowed some nice clothes from Akane, though she devoutly refused to explain why. It seemed profane to bring it up in front of her ex-fiancée. Especially after Akane had insisted so forcefully on picking the outfit, doing her hair and accessorizing.

I wish I had brought an umbrella, Ranma lamented. The black over the shoulder t-shirt was now soaked. Worse, the ensemble Akane had picked for her didn't include a bra. Akane said that'd be "gauche" to war one with the shirt.

Ranma didn't know what was worse: the fact that she had grown comfortable enough with a bra to lament its absence, or that she was taking fashion advice seriously. The black pants were okay at least. Loose enough to flexible without getting in the way. But the studded leather belt felt awkward wrapped jauntily around her hips.

The real indignity, though, was her hair. Without even so much as asking her opinion, Akane had taken out her queue, stuck her head under the faucet, washed her hair, blow dried it, and then attacked it with brushes, chemicals, irons and hair spray.

It wasn't Saotome Ranma reflected in the mirror; some pop-rock queen gazed back at her from beyond the glass. She wondered what Ibuki would think of it, and her heart began to thump wildly. Could it be she was actually looking forward to this?

After the rain storm, though, her hair had lost a bit of volume. She self-consciously checked it in a parked car's mirror. It still had the teased-out look that Akane was going for.

"You're late," Ibuki chided.

Ibuki had been waiting under an awning, still as blonde and statuesque as ever. The rain drizzled off the canvas, pattering like soft taps on a drum. Little rivulets streamed through holes in the canvas, splattering off Ibuki's faded blue jean jacket. Ibuki didn't seem to notice; the blonde watched her hungrily as she skipped under the canvas.

Ranma found her gaze drawn to Ibuki's open jacket. The blonde's well-worn Cheap Trick(1) tour t-shirt hugged tightly to her curves until just above the belly-button, exposing the milky-white skin of her midrift.

Ranma checked her watch: 6:59. She remembered how much Ibuki loved to tease, and vowed to get the better of her. "I am not late," she said, "You're just anxious to see me again."

"Ooh you're good. Nice perm, by the way."

"Thanks. I had some help though," said Ranma with a shrug. At least my date likes it, she said to herself. Date, huh. I'm really going out on a date with another girl.

Ranma's heart began to pound. She couldn't tell if the fluttering feeling in her core was due to excitement or anxiety. But before she knew it, Ibuki unfurled an umbrella. The salesgirl grinned, took her by the hand, and led her off into the night. They splashed through puddles as they wove through throngs of exhausted weekend worker drones.

"Come on, if we don't hurry we'll miss the show!" panted Ibuki.

"What show?"

"Queensrÿche.(2) They're playing at Nihon-Seinen Hall tonight."

"But isn't that in Shinjuku?"

"Yeah, if we hurry we'll make the train."

They made the train without a moment to lose. Ibuki clung tightly to a safety pole as she caught her breath. "I like riding the trains on Sunday," she said, "They're quieter."

This fact hadn't escaped the redhead martial artist. She was alone with Ibuki in the car. The blonde was so close Ranma could taste her lilac scented perfume. Ibuki advanced closer still, pressing the red-haired girl against the wall. The blonde girl bit her cherry red lip.

Oh god, what if someone sees! Ranma said to herself. But the only judging eyes in the car were from the public service posters. They were alone, and it was simple. No betrothals, no childhood marriage promises, no future of the school to consider. Just two toned bodies enjoying each other's embrace. So Ranma just let go of it all. Their fingers intertwined, and their lips met.

Ranma was in no rush, and Ibuki was content to indulge her. Their kiss was slow and passionate, and Ibuki's lips were so soft and inviting. And for a moment, the whole universe faded into nothingness. There was no rustle of the car, no metallic clack against the tracks, no fiancées and no dojo to hold her back.

They gasped as their lips parted. Ibuki's lip gloss had tasted like cherries. One of the salesgirl's hands slipped from hers. Ibuki's fingers feathered over her shoulders, sliding down to the small of her back before continuing on. She felt a sharp pinch on her butt, and as she cried out, Ibuki smothered her mouth in another kiss.

Ranma pulled the blonde tightly to her. Their kiss broke, and as they panted, Ranma felt a firm grab at her butt. A moan escaped her lips and her heart pounded like a taiko drum. She could never have imagined that Saotome Ranma, Man-Among-Men, could sound his lewd.

Ibuki giggled softly before kissing at her neck. As the kisses turned to love bites, she couldn't contain herself from moaning. The hand on her but slid down, and her leg responded automatically, lifting up into the blonde's arm. Ibuki pressed closer still, the sales girls' pelvis grinding against her own.

The doors chimed open. When did we reach the next station? wondered Ranma. Suddenly the whole world came crashing back. The rush of danger sent a thrill through her like a bolt of lightning. Ibuki's every touch burned with pleasure echoing though her core deep into her sex. She cried out, clinging to her partner for dear life. It seemed to ripple through her for an eternity, and suddenly Ranma found that she had wilted into Ibuki's arms.

She slowly opened her eyes. Ryoga was standing slack jawed in the open door, blood dripping from his nose.

"Err…don't mind me miss," he stammered, "I was just er well trying to find my way to Nerima and well, I thought I heard someone in pain so I came running…well sorry for intruding." He turned to leave the car, but the door had already closed. His head left a sizeable dent in the aluminum. He began to fall.

Shouting apologies, Ranma pushed Ibuki to the side. She dove to catch the poor lost boy before he dashed what little brains he had left out on the train floor.

"Do you know this guy?" asked Ibuki.

"Yeah. He's my friend. We train together a lot."

Ibuki rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "That makes sense. Something 'bout the way you moved made me think you were a martial artist. Karate? Or do you practice aikido?"

"Kempo actually. Anything-Goes School. Learned it from my Pop. I've been staying at his old friend's dojo though. That's sort of a long story."

"I guess I'd like to hear it someday. So this boy is kind of cute. Have you and he ever…you know?"

"Oh no, we ain't like that. He's a huge dork actually, even though he is one of my best friends."

"I see," said Ibuki. Ranma wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but she knew incredulity when she heard it. "So do you go both ways, Ranma?"

"What?"

"I mean, do you like boys as well as girls."

No! Ranma screamed inwardly. But that felt too practiced and automatic to be true, even to her. After battling with herself for a moment, she finally settled on an answer: "I don't know."

Ibuki knelt down beside where Ranma cradled Ryoga on her lap. The blonde's brief pang of jealousy seemed be over.

Ryoga almost looked like he was sleeping. Ryoga you dork, she said to herself, Where would you be without me looking after you? She untied his head band and fished a canteen from the lost boy's pack. She emptied the contents onto the rag, careful not to spill any onto Ryoga directly. After ringing the bandana out, she carefully placed it on the welt developing on Ryoga's forehead.

Ranma's thoughts rushed back to her life at the Tendo dojo. She thought of Akane, and the bitter tears that Ukyo had wept. And suddenly she felt like she was making a huge mistake.

"Oh god," whispered Ranma, "What am I doing here?"

Ibuki frowned. "What, you're not getting cold feet are you?"

"No. It's just that…" The words just wouldn't come.

"Ranma, after what we just did, you owe me an explanation."

From the beginning then. "There's something I have to tell you. I don't know if you'll like it. Or if you'll even believe me if I tell you. But if I don't, then nothing else will make sense."

Ibuki sat quietly lost in thought. Finally, she shrugged and said, "Okay Ranma, shoot. I promise I'll listen fairly."

"You see, I wasn't born a girl. My father, Saotome Genma, took me on a training trip to China. We had an accident at some cursed springs, and I was curse to turn into a girl when—"

"Whoa, hold on. You're Saotome Ranma?" Ibuki interrupted. "Oh man, I thought I recognized you from somewhere."

"Wait a sec, you already know about that?"

"Dude, you're practically a legend! Of course I've heard about Nerima's genderbending martial artist and his posse of psychos who want to kill and/or marry him. You can't cause as much havoc as you do without getting a reputation."

Ranma breathed a sigh of relief.

"That explains a lot. But I thought you were a boy who changed into a girl with cold water. Why are you running around shopping and going on dates as a girl?"

Ranma told her about her misadventure in Spain, where she learned that magic artifacts are crazy regardless of culture. The redhead tried to be as boring and perfunctory as possible, but the story still fascinated Ibuki, who nodded along eagerly. "So," Ranma asked, "you're not mad about me being a boy living as a girl? Especially after we, well, you know?"

"Oh not at all. I prefer girls, but I do like boys as well," Ibuki stated matter-of-factly, as though she were talking about her preference in soft drinks. "But still, that doesn't explain why you're having second thoughts, hon. So out with it!"

"Ibuki, listen. I've never felt anything like that before," said Ranma, blushing fire-engine red. "But the girl my father betrothed me to, Akane. I love her more than anything. And she broke my heart when she chose the real me over the cheap imitation. Sometimes I hate her for it, and I feel guilty. But most times I just feel broken. And I don't know if I'll ever be ready to move on. In spite of everything, I still feel like I'm betraying her."

Ibuki placed an arm around her shoulder, pulling their bodies together. "Look hon," said the blonde, "I wasn't ever looking for any big commitments. We're just two girls out to have a good time. I'm not saying you have to move on; all I'm sayin' is that you're not betraying anyone. Because neither of us is looking for Miss Right. Just Miss Right Now. So if Akane has a problem with you locking lips with other girls, then she can go fuck herself."

Ranma laughed softly at her vulgarity. It was so refreshing compared to the stuffy traditionalism she'd long been trapped under. And maybe there could be perks to not having to be the good son.

Ryoga slowly began to stir. He lay their lazily, warmly content to have two pretty girls watching over her. Then his memory must have returned, because he tried to bolt to his feet, shouting apologies. But Ranma held him down, cooing softly as the lost boy kicked helplessly.

Finally he calmed down. He still kept muttering apologies for seeing them, and seemed to be dumbfounded when no violent retribution came. "Come on, dude, don't overreact," Ibuki chided, "It's our fault for foolin' around on a public train. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Tell that to the girls at Furinkan High," muttered Ryoga.

He sat up slowly, nursing the shiner on his forehead. "You just take it easy, Ryoga," Ranma said as she helped him to his feet.

He stared incredulously at the redhead. "Wait a second, how do you know my name?" he demanded.

Ranma rolled her eyes. Poor gullible Ryoga, she said to herself. She pinched his cheeks, pulling his face close to hers. "It's me, Ranma, you pig-brain."

"Well how am I supposed to know it's you when you look like you're cosplaying Madonna?"

"Aha," cried Ibuki at her sudden epiphany, "so that's where I saw your get up. Nice inspiration."

Ibuki had insisted that Ryoga accompany them to the rock concert, as payment for the trouble they'd caused him. If it stopped her from being flirty at all, Ranma didn't notice. Even with Ryoga along, it still felt like a date. In between the loud, frenetic music, Ibuki would whisper seductively in her ear.

For two hours, they shouted along to the music. It was about half way through their set that Ranma started to wonder if there was a story being woven by the music and lyrics. She tried to follow it, but mostly she just felt the blood-pumping music course through her. It was strange, new and glorious all at once. The tempo reminded her of the frenzy of fighting. Amidst the great throngs of rock fans, Ranma once again lost herself.

Only when she feared that her ears would begin to bleed did the music let up. The band completed their encore to a thunderous ovation, thanked the good people of Tokyo for showing up, and filed off stage. The crowded venue began to empty, and Ranma clung tightly to both Ibuki and Ryoga, lest they be separated. Soon the crowds thinned, spreading out under the starry sky.

Not wanting to let the magic end, Ranma suggested they go dancing. Ibuki declared that it was the best idea yet, and the two dragged Ryoga along with them. For the most part, he seemed content with their company.

They found a bar/discotheque that Ibuki knew by reputation. They weren't too nosy about keeping minors out, and they played energetic dance music. It was a slow night, with barely enough people on the floor to keep the place moving and grooving. But Ranma was undeterred. If it was good enough for Bruce Lee, she thought, it is good enough for me.

They danced, sometimes all together, other times in a pair while the third got refreshments. The boys whistled their approval to the guy lucky enough to be with two girls, while the other girls eyed him hungrily.

"I think we found Tokyo's most eligible bachelor," Ibuki said in between tracks.

Ryoga had gone to relieve himself, and now slightly inebriated, Ranma felt no shame in talking about him behind his back. "Don't tell him that," she giggled, "It might go to his head."

Dancing with the perky blonde was its own treat. But like forbidden fruit, it was her time with Ryoga that was most tempting. He was so nervous as they danced together to a string of synthpop tunes. She was nervous too, truth be told. It felt like her stomach was dancing a jig inside her. But let go of her apprehensions. His body felt so good pressed against hers. And while he was a slow starter, he soon found his rhythm.

Ranma felt light as a feather as she danced the night away. The legacy that had weighed her down was cast off. She was free of her father's dream for her. No more destiny to unite the schools and become a man among men. There was a world with infinite possibilities out there, and this redheaded tomboy was determined to see it.

After the dancing wore them down, they left the disco. But still, Ranma did not want the night to end yet.

They walked to a nearby park, still burning with nervous energy. Ibuki raked her nails across Ryoga's back, whispering in his ear. The poor lost boy blushed and stammered. Ranma could only laugh heartily. That dope, she said to herself. If he would just stop being so self-conscious, he might even enjoy himself.

It was a new moon. The only light that pierced the grotto's tangled vines and thick stands of flowering lilacs was starlight and a few tiny streams from the nearby neon storefronts. Ranma could contain cauldron of pent of energy no longer. She tackled Ryoga, slamming him into the grass. She held his arms crossed above his head. He didn't seem to be too phased. With a cough, he mumbled "Do you really think you should be sparring with me while you're on a date?"

Ranma found herself paralyzed as she stared into the lost boys brown eyes. Trembling, she bit her lip in anticipation. What are you doing, Saotome? she asked herself, He's beautiful and clueless and right there in your grasp. Just do it and worry about the fallout later or else you'll never know.

Ibuki laughed, "Seems to me you're on a date too, Ryoga."

It was all the encouragement she needed. She intertwined her fingers with his. Ryoga must have sensed what was coming, because he began to blush. As he gasped in surprise, Ranma leaned in to kiss him.

For a moment he seemed to kiss back. But then he remembered himself, pushing the redhead away with arms like concrete girders. He sat up in a start, keeping Ranma at arm's length. She knelt in between his akimbo legs, pouting.

"What's gotten into you Ranma?" he demanded, "Aren't you a guy for crying out loud?"

Ibuki slipped in behind him. Her hands slipped onto his shoulders, holding him in place, "Does she look like a man right now to you?"

"That's the thing, Ryoga," said Ranma, "I've already told you I'm a girl too. And I'm through being awkward around you. You're beautiful, and I guess I'm attracted to you, dummy. I don't want to live in denial about that. I like you, you're one of my closest friends. And I think I might also want you."

Ryoga swallowed hard.

"We don't have to go anywhere with this. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to."

She pulled his hand from her shoulder, sliding it down to her heart. "Can you feel it pounding, Ryoga? My heart is beating like this because of you. I like this feeling. I hope you like it too."

He smelled faintly of sweat, soap and the forest. She felt his hand tremble as he touched her. She moved in closer, holding his body close to hers. As she sat on his lap, she felt a hard bulge press into pelvis. "I think you want this body too," she whispered, "And that's okay. I can be a girl for you, if you're fine with a tomboy like me."

Ryoga seemed tempted. But he still pushed her way, though gently this time. "Ranma, you can be so infuriating. For the longest time, all I cared about was beating you. But somehow we still became friends, because that's the kind of person that you are. But I'm sorry, I can't see you as a girl."

Ranma felt like a balloon that someone let the air out of. She began to deflate instantly, fighting back tears. She succeeded this time.

"Look, Ranma, I know this isn't what you want to hear right now, but you'll always be a man among men to me. I'm sorry."

Ryoga's rejection felt a lot worse than she anticipated. She shrank away, muttering her apologies and saying "forget what I said." Ibuki politely excused herself, saying that these two old friends obviously had a lot of issues to deal with.

It took her a while, but Ranma finally composed herself. She ignored the feeling of emptiness, and tried to congratulate herself for remaining mostly stoic in front of Ryoga. It didn't make her feel any better. Ryoga tried to excuse himself too, probably after he was sure that Ranma would be alright.

She wouldn't let him go. "Oh no you don't. You'll just get yourself lost again, and Akane will pine away for ol' P-chan again. You're coming back with me."

"Are you sure that's a good idea Ranma?"

"Hey, it's no biggie. I've never been better," she lied. "Besides, you're going to have to come here sooner or later. And awkwardness or not, I can't let my friend sleep outside when there is a warm bed available to him."

She sighed deeply. "You just let me explain everything. And let me do it in my own time, alright?"

"Gotcha."

Ranma put one foot in front of the other, glad that Furinkan had given its students tomorrow off for repairs. She wondered how she was going to explain what happened to Akane, and suddenly the guilt came flooding back.

Chapter Text

She knew on some level that she was dreaming. But it felt real enough, and her heart ached enough for this release, that she chose to ignore the looming reality principle.

Ranma and Akane's bodies intertwined amidst the tangles of luxurious silk sheets. The two women kissed with inviting lips, softer than silk. Akane raked her nails across the redhead's back. Ranma shivered with pleasure, pulling her lips away to moan softly.

Akane grinned saucily. "Am I uncute now?"

Ranma purred as she nibbled at Akane's ear, drawing quiet gasps of pleasure. "Impossible."

Akane pulled hard on the redhead's braid. Ranma cried out, agony and ecstasy blending together. With powerful grace, the tomboy rolled over, pinning Ranma to the cloudlike bed. She smothered the girl's cries with a deep kiss as she slid her thigh between Ranma's legs. Soon, Ranma's hips began to buck, grinding her sex across the taught muscles of the tomboy's thigh.

Ranma's breath began to quicken. She thrust her own thigh up to reciprocate. Their bodies, now slick with a thin sheen of sweat, entangled in bliss. Their kisses became more frantic, the cries of pleasure irrepressible. The climax came, and the rest of the universe faded away. In that short eternity, it was just Ranma and Akane. Everything else disappeared, and their hearts beat as one.

Slowly, thought began to return as the ecstasy began to fade. Akane cradled the redhead in the crook of her neck. The girl closed her eyes as she absentmindedly stroked the tomboy's nipple. For a moment, she seemed asleep. Akane closed her eyes too, hypnotized by the soft sound of her lover's breathing.

Ranma stirred. "This is a dream."

Akane's eyes fluttered open. She found the redhead gazing longingly into her eyes.

"I don't want it to end, Akane."

"Neither do I."

Akane's eyes fluttered open. Her room was dark still. She groaned as she began to stir, still unrested. But the dream was over, and its absence left her feeling empty inside.

Her bed was a mess. The comforter had been thrown aside, and the pillows strewn out along the floor. She was twisted up in the sheets like a little pastry. Slowly, she extricated herself from the knots of fabric, shivering as skin met the cool morning air. She had worn shorts and a singlet to bed last night, but had still managed to sweat enough to make her skin crawl.

Time for a bath, Akane decided. She gathered up a fresh change of clothes, and started downstairs towards the furo. She almost turned back when she heard the sound of someone splashing around. Whoever it was had not decided to turn on the lights.

Akane stood shivering in the outer bath, wondering whether to proceed. She had a sneaking suspicion that Ran-chan was in the next room, and she wondered what had caused her former fiancé to have a sleepless night. She put her ear up to the door to listen more closely. She heard Ran-chan faintly singing a song she could not recognize.

Akane knocked quietly on the inner door. "Who is it?" Ran-chan said with surprise.

After that scintillatingly real dream, Akane was not sure she could face her former fiancé naked and alone. For the first time since the splitting, in that whirlwind of romance she'd been swept up in with the male Ranma, Akane wondered if she had made a mistake. She felt shallow, cheap even, in choosing him. A little voice inside her chastised her, wondering what was in the way of loving the girl as well. They called her a lesbian or a manhater when they thought she wasn't listening already. Would it really change anything that much?

But there was a sadness buried in Ran-chan's voice that commanded her to put aside her baggage for the moment. Because her friend needed her. "It's just me, Ran-chan," she whispered. She discarded her night clothes into the laundry hamper, and entered the bath.

Moonlight flooded the inner bath. In the pale light, she could see Ran-chan faintly blush as she entered. She felt little butterflies dance inside her.

The redhead was sprawled out in the bath, her arms lazily draped over the side of the tub. Her wet hair had lost all of its volume. It clung tightly to Ran-chan's head and shoulders as she rested her cheek on the rim of the tub. But her eyes followed Akane closely as the tomboy washed.

Akane's heart pounded in her chest. Unconsciously, her hands clung to her body. She could feel each drumming beat hammering at her fingertips. She had never felt this self-conscious before. She tried to focus on the simple act of washing her hair, but this quickly proved futile. Each time she paused, Akane's thoughts were drawn to Ranma. The feel of his…her lips on her own, the embrace of their bodies. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. When did I get this shameless? she asked herself.

There was no answer. As calmly as she could, Akane joined the redhead in the bath. As she climbed, their bodies brushed together. Even in the dim light, she could see Ran-chan tense up, muscles taught as fingers clawed into the tile.

It had been several weeks since Ran-chan's abortive declaration of love. It had been a blur, and at times she'd forgotten that it had even happened.

"Akane," whispered Ran-chan, "couldn't sleep?"

"What's it look like, dummy?"

Ran-chan half-smiled. "Bad dream.?"

"There was a dream. It was very vivid, too real even. But I wouldn't call it a bad dream."

"Ah. That's good I s'pose."

"How about you? I know you were out late…well, how'd it go?"

"Ugh."

"That bad?"

"It's complicated."

"Well tell me about it."

"I thought you said you didn't want to hear nothing about girls being with other girls?"

"Well yeah. But if it's bothering you, you should talk about it. What else are friends for?"

Ran-chan idly splashed water about. Her eyes flitted back and forth as her face twisted with trepidation. "Promise you won't judge. And you won't interrupt me or nothing 'til I finish."

"I promise."

"I'm serious Akane."

"So am I."

"You know how Ryoga has this habit of turning up where you least expect him. Well, he ended up showing up…he sort of walked in on me and Ibuki making out in the train."

"Well that's bold."

"Hey, you promised."

"I'm sorry. Please, continue."

"Well, things have been kind of awkward between him and me lately. But Ibuki liked him, and since neither of us were looking for anything serious, she decided to have him tag along too. Ya see, she likes both boys and girls—I ended up kissing Ryoga."

Akane forgot her promise to not interrupt again as she frothed with shock and confusion. "Ranma, how could you tease him like that?"

"I didn't do it to tease him, honest. I…well you see, I think I like guys too. I kissed him, and it just felt so right. I kind of made a pass at him. But he rejected me and pushed me away." Ran-chan sat up in the bath. She looked deep into Akane's eyes, her own filled with hurt and regret. "He gave me some crap about not being able to see me as a woman. I felt humiliated. But all I could think about on the long walk home was you."

Akane squirmed like a worm on a hook. "Ranma," she whispered.

"Akane," said the redhead, her eyes downcast, "you broke my heart. You treat me like there's never been anything between us, that I've always just been your best girlfriend. Some days I'm okay with that. But then I close my eyes, and I can still feel your breath on my lips and your body close to mine. But when I open them again, you're with the other Ranma, not me. And then sometimes I feel so bitter that I wish we'd never met. But then I can't even imagine life without you. Because you are my best friend. After tonight, maybe even my only friend."

Akane's eyes began to water. "I wish I knew what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I just…well I guess I need you to know that I ain't over you. I probably never will be. I hope you can be okay with that."

Akane thought for a moment, her feet splashing nervously. She sat up, and tapped Ranma on the shoulder."

"Whazzat," the redhead whined. As the redhead sat up slowly, her face became illuminated by the moonrays for a moment. There were bags forming under her eyes, her flawless skin was marred by runny makeup.

She hasn't gone to bed at all yet, Akane concluded. "I need to look you in the eye when I say this or it won't mean anything."

"Um…okay," Ran-chan said. Her face was flush, and she tried very hard to keep her gaze from being drawn to Akane's breasts.

"Ranma, why wouldn't I be okay with that? I know that underneath your girlish exterior, you're still the man I love. I…I need to apologize to you. I have wronged you and I hope you can forgive me."

"Wha? No, please don't apologize for that. I mean, hell, as awful as it hurt me, he's still the man you love. Now that the curse is gone, there shouldn't be anything in the way of you too. Except for me, it seems."

"Ranma, you're not in the way. And I wish I had told you sooner, that I hadn't been so stubborn. But your changing…it wasn't a curse. Not to me. It wasn't what was getting in the way of us, I was. I was too stubborn, too jealous, too paranoid. If I had, maybe you wouldn't have gone."

Ran-chan's eyes were downcast again. Boy, did that girl not know how to gracefully take an apology. But Akane wasn't through yet…there was still more to say. "Listen, the other you, he puts up a brave front. But he's been wounded by this splitting too. We haven't talked about it, I think he's too proud to, but sometimes I'll catch him looking at a piece of feminine clothing, or a girl's sport, and he'll let out this longing sigh. You both lost something."

That must have truly surprised her, because Ran-chan's mouth hung open, completely dumbstruck. But then the waterworks started, and Akane couldn't help but cry too. It started as low, quiet sobs, stifled as well as the redhead knew how. The sobs stopped, but then the silent tears came out, followed by a shuddering wave that rippled through her body. Ran-chan held a hand over her mouth, and the sobs came out like little coughs.

Akane threw aside modesty, and hugged the poor girl close to her. She accepted the gesture, wrapping her arms around the tomboy as she buried her face into Akane's shoulder.

"What have I done?" Ran-chan repeated over and over.

Akane did her best to sooth the redhead's cries. It felt like an empty gesture.

"Damnit, I'm so stupid," Ran-chan cried, "I tried to tell myself I was suffering so you and some version of me could be happy. Stupid right? But I guess it made this seem honorable in spite of all the pain. He could be whole again, and you'd both be happy. What a joke! Now it turns out we're both half the man we used to be."

"It's not dumb, Ranma. You've always tried to be honorable and compassionate. At times, you can even be noble, even if it ends up coming back to bite you."

"Why did I ever go along with Pop's scheme anyway. It's not like any of the other cures ended up working." Akane held her close even as the crying stopped. A little voice continued to shout at her that she was being perverted, that girls weren't supposed to be like this. Sometimes, that voice, ever drilled in the toxic mélange of Japanese society told her that this poor girl that she loved was defective for being attracted to other girls, for being masculine, and that if she wasn't careful, the rot would spread to her as well. That voice could go to hell, she decided. "Ranma, listen, I can't promise you anything. I've met such an awful mess already. But I'm going to try to treat you both the same. I need you to be patient with me, because it's not going to be easy. But I want to be able to l-love you both the same."

Ran-chan pulled away. The redhead looked at her with suspicion. She wondered too if she had been promising too much, even with what little hope she was giving. "I think I can live with that," said the redhead.

The next morning, while Ran-chan and Akane slept fitfully in their rooms at the Tendo dojo, the male Ranma was contemplating skipping school as well. He sat in the entry way of his mother's home lacing up his shoes, contemplating what to do next.

Ukyo had not been at school the previous few days. She'd been avoiding him since he'd returned from the Spanish expedition, so it took him a while to realize. He'd hoped that, in time, they could pick back up being friends. Her absence had started to hurt, and when he'd heard from Akane what his Ucchan had told his girl half, he felt ashamed. He loved Akane, there was never any doubt about that. But that didn't mean he wanted to hurt any of the other girls. Especially his oldest friend.

When he'd buzzed by Ucchan's over the weekend, and saw the restaurant boarded up, worry began to gnaw at him. He'd tried to push it down, to tell himself that Ucchan just need some space, that she was a mature young woman who could deal with this on her own, that getting involved would only make it worse. Excuses, he said to himself, You're just a coward who doesn't want to see her heartbroken face.

His mind wandered to a very dark place. A noose and dangling feet. Or congealed black blood on the floor.

He shook his head furiously, cursing himself for being conceited. Like he could have that effect on someone, that spurning them would drive them to such despair. Still, he had to find out for himself. He'd pay for it tomorrow, but he was going to find Ucchan and find some way of making this right.

After waving goodbye to his mother, he dashed out of the house. He ran all the way to Ucchan's restaurant, his eyes constantly searching for danger. It would just be typical, for Mousse ambush him for hurting Shampoo, for Cologne to chastise him for rejecting the Amazon ways, or for that maniac Kuno to come to punish him for his foul sorcery. He wasn't in the mood for any of it this morning. But thankfully no challenge came, and he arrived at Ucchan's without incident.

It was still closed up. A hastily scrawled sign hung on the front declaring the restaurant was closed for remodeling. He didn't know what he was going to find inside, or whether Ukyo would even be there. But he had to start somewhere. If she had left, he would find some clues here.

To his surprise, the door was unlocked. He let himself in without announcement. With the blinds closed and lights off, he stepped into darkness. It smelled much like it always had, the thick musk of cooking oil and okonomiyaki sauce hung heavy in the air. Slowly his eyes adjusted, and he realized he wasn't alone inside.

Ukyo was sitting on one of the bar stools, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. She was wearing the Furinkan High gakuran, staring into space. For a moment, he wondered if it was a statue. But slowly her head turned to him. "Ranma?" she croaked.

"Yeah, it's me. You haven't been to school lately. We…I was worried."

"Why should you care?" she hissed, "You threw me away for that tomboy."

"Look who's talking, Ucchan," he said, in a voice somewhere between frustration and joking. "Besides, I ain't been throwing anyone away. You're my best friend. I'm sorry I didn't show up sooner, but I though you wanted your space. But…listen here's the straight talk, I ain't gonna sugar coat it for ya. You ain't doing yourself any favors by sitting here, sulking because things didn't work out quite like you planned."

"I know that Ran-chan, really I do," Ukyo sighed, "That's why I even bothered to get cleaned up and dressed this morning. But then I thought about having to face you or Akane again and I just froze. I couldn't do it."

"Well, you seem to be facing me fine enough."

"Is it bad that I was glad that I worried you so? Honestly, you looked deathly afraid when you came in here."

"No, I don't think so. Still, I wish you wouldn't scare me like this."

"It kills me to say this, but you're going to make Akane very happy if you keep up this more considerate attitude of yours." The bitterness hung on Ukyo's words. He cursed his father yet again for leaving him with this mess.

"I've had a lot to think about lately. In my rush to put Jusenkyo behind me, I hurt someone very near to me."

Ukyo perked up. A little part of her, he could tell, was hoping that the someone very near was referring to her. He was going to have to disappoint her. "There's another me running around. She has all of the same thoughts and memories as me. She's just a girl, not a boy. I know that's not the fairy tale image of romance you want, and I ain't asking you to be her consolation prize. All I'm saying is, she's probably more scared, hurt and lonely than you. She needs you, and you need her, because she's your friend too. And honestly, I need you too. Akane needs you; in spite of all of the bullshit our fathers have put us through, you've become friends with Akane as well."

Ukyo's face screwed up with fury. She started to object, but the words died in her throat. The downcast look in her eyes told him that she knew it was true, and she couldn't live in denial anymore.

"I never wanted to hurt you, honestly. I never wanted to hurt any of you. But I finally said the truth that my heart had known for a long time. I put off doing that for so long because I didn't want to any of my friends, you least of all. But what's done is done. I'm not asking you to forgive me yet, but I would really like to have my friend back. And in the meantime, the other Ranma needs a friend too. She hasn't wronged you like I have."

The silence stretched out seemingly to the boundless shores of eternity. Time had never slowed to a crawl quite like this for him. But Ukyo finally said, "I won't promise that I'll forgive you. But I will give your other half a visit. I…owe her that much. I do want to be friends still. But it's going to take me some time."

Chapter Text

No turning back now, Ukyo told herself, you have to face her. She reached the top of the stairs and halted on the landing. The rooftop of Furinkan High lay beyond the chipped paint of an old aluminum door.

Ukyo had been up into the wee hours of the morning strategizing how she's approach the redheaded ghost of her fiancé, agonizing over what she'd say. And now that the moment had come, all those carefully chosen words and best laid plans had evaporated like the morning dew. She could hear the faint sound of talking filter through the slightly ajar door.

An ugly feeling clawed at her heart. This was jealousy…for Hiroshi and Daisuke, of all people. It didn't sit well with her that she'd been turning to them in her hour of need. But then again, who else could she blame but herself?

At last, she swallowed her pride, and stepped out into the noon sun. Ranma sat in the shade of building promontory, flanked on either side by Hiroshi and Daisuke. Ranma stopped her anecdote mid-sentence, pulling the drag chute on their entire conversation. Ranma regarded her gravely, a mix of confusion, anger and remorse washing over the redhead's face. Her friends sat like deer in the headlights, their gaze shifting uncomfortably back and forth from Ukyo to Ranma.

"Ranma, I…" and then the words on her tongue abruptly revolted, refusing to be uttered.

"Um, could you give us a minute guys?" Ranma said calmly.

Daisuke wasted no time jumping to his feet. "Uh yeah, sure," he said brusquely.

"Yeah, we'll see you in gym class," said Hiroshi, already following on Daisuke's heels.

As they passed her, both of the boys glared at her, jaws clenched and teeth bared. The unspoken message was clear: don't you dare hurt her.

It hadn't escaped Ranma's notice. As soon as the pair were out of earshot, she apologized. "Uh, sorry about that. They're good guys, and their heart is in the right place. But I don't need them to fight my battles for me. So, Ucchan, it's been a while."

It felt like an accusation. She pushed down her defensiveness. "Yes, it's been far too long. And I'm sorry for being so pigheaded about, well, everything."

"There's nothing to forgive Ucchan."

"You don't have to be the martyr, Ran-chan. I shouldn't be lashing out at you for something he did."

Ranma walked closer, still holding that contradictory mask on her face. For a moment, Ukyo wondered if she'd lash out. Maybe it would be for the best, to take her licks and get it out of the way.

She didn't expect Ranma to hug her close, so tightly she could barely breath. "I missed you Ucchan," whispered Ranma.

"My my, you're usually much more reserved than this."

"Shut up and hug it out."

It took some effort to suppress her self-consciousness, and let herself be vulnerable like this to anyone, least of all the reflection of the man who broke her heart. She fought valiantly to remain aloof, but soon enough she succumbed, and found herself hugging back. A little cry of anguish escaped her lips. Or perhaps it was relief.

She felt the hot tears welling up in her eyes. "Damn it, I told myself I wasn't going to cry," lamented Ukyo.

"Your secret is safe with me."

"I just feel so rotten for taking it out on you."

"I deserve it just as much as he does."

"Whoa, hold on a minute there, sugar. You're not the one sleeping with Akane. I can't blame you for this."

"Ukyo, you don't understand. He and I, we're the same person. All that happened was that I took on the curse full time. There was a fork in the road; he took one path and I took another. But we still had the same destination in mind."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you have as much right to be angry with me as with him."

Ukyo could see that Ranma was annoyed, almost cross, at the repetition. But behind that outward demeanor, she thought she caught a glimpse of something else in those blue eyes. The redhead held her at arm's length now, gripping firmly at her shoulders.

"Do you want me to be angry with you?"

"Yes—er no. Maybe. I dunno. Maybe if you were upset, I wouldn't feel so guilty."

Her heart fluttered a bit. Even if it didn't lead to the fairy tale happy ending she had wanted, it still felt good to know someone was worrying over her. "Ranma, I've spent enough time angry and alone. It's time for me to grow up, cuz I've got people counting on me."

"Konatsu?"

"Him too, but I meant you, dummy. You shouldn't have to lose a friend over this."

"Yeah, I've been doing a great job of that," Ranma said mournfully.

She could almost sense the redhead prickling up, clearly regretting divulging so much so soon. Normally, this would prove an irresistible temptation, but at least for now Ukyo decided to table it for later. It was time for a tactical subject change.

"Well, you seem to be adapting pretty well. I was a little surprised to see you in girl's clothing."

"Well I'm not going to be wearing the girl's uniform here—I still have standards—but I like to mix up my clothing depending on my mood. I guess I was feeling a bit more feminine today."

Feeling feminine, it seemed, meant wearing girl's slacks, tank top, and sports bra. "I never figured out how you managed to just wear what you wanted Ranma."

"Oh that part's easy. It's just not worth the effort to make me wear a school uniform."

They found a shaded corner of the roof to eat while they talked. It was starting to get quite warm during the days, and shelter from the sun hammering down on her was a welcome relief for Ukyo. As she nibbled away at her curry bread, she watched Ranma shovel down one of Kasumi's homemade bento.

"Ran-chan…I don't think I ever got the explanation about how you, you know, ended up like this."

Ranma had just finished eating. She took a long moment carefully packing away the bento box. "Pops drug us half-way around the world chasing a cure for the Jusenkyo curse. But it turned out to be a false hope. The ancient artifact was supposed to cut through enchantments, at least that's how Pops described the legend."

"And somehow it split you?" said Ukyo.

"We're exact copies. Same memories, personality; he's just permanently a guy, and I'm permanently a girl."

Ukyo sized up the redhead. "Um, no offense, but are you sure? Some things seem to have changed. And what's this I heard about you hitting on Ryoga?"

Ranma turned beet red. "Damn it, has everyone heard by now?"

"I'm afraid so sugar."

"Listen…life has really been beating the stuffing out of me lately. It's given me some opportunity to think about who I really am and what I want out of life. I don't know how to describe it except that I miss being both a guy and a girl. I miss being able to choose. And part of coming to terms with losing my boy half has been learning how to appreciate the girl half."

"And that means macking on dudes?"

"Yes! I'll always be more attracted to girls, but if I'm honest with myself, I have to admit that I've always been somewhat attracted to guys as well. I just lived in denial about it, afraid that I would be calling my manliness into question."

Ukyo felt very small. She had expected it to be yet another unfortunate misunderstanding; just more hijinks in the cavalcade of embarrassment that seemed to follow Ranma like fate itself. She wasn't prepared for something so simple, so genuine. Images of Ranma and Ryoga making out ran through her head. It was surprisingly…stimulating.

Ranma studied her while she pondered. The redhead decided to fill the silence. "Besides, it's not like you could turn down making a pass at a beautiful hunk like Ryoga."

Two became three in Ukyo's mind's eye, both girls sharing that clueless Adonis. The idea didn't immediately repulse her, and that was shocking. She laughed uneasily, still unsure of what she was feeling right now.

"Ran-chan, I…"

Ukyo was interrupted by the sound of the door slamming open. Nabiki stepped out onto the roof. "Ranma, I need you," she panted, "it's a matter of life and death."

The start of lunch period

As the class dismissed, Nabiki lingered a moment at her desk. Something did not feel right, and nothing bothered her more than being out of the loop.

While she was often called the Ice Queen of Furinkan High for her aloof and unapproachable demeanor, it wasn't true. Nabiki's private, obscene secret was that she cared very much what people thought of her. She wore the ice queen reputation like a suit of armor, all the while keeping herself well apprised of the goings on in the school. Knowledge was power, and she used it as weapon for both profit and amusement.

But right now the whispers just out of the range of her keen ears troubled her. She shoved the growling hunger pangs to the back of her mind, and resolved to spend lunch period unravelling this mystery.

She patrolled the halls, eavesdropping on groups of students, and occasionally finding an excuse to invade another classroom. For the most part the conversations were thoroughly unremarkable: who had just broken up with whom; the new volleyball coach being a total perv; the dimensions of the new mysterious transfer student. Actually, put a pin in that one, Nabiki said to herself, and we'll deal with it when I'm feeling less paranoid.

She found a group of first year boys hunched down in the corner of one of the stairwells, looking absolutely up to no good. She approached quietly, like a predator stalking its prey.

One of them, a tall and gangly raven-haired boy whose face was pockmarked with acne, whispered, "I can't believe you managed to score these Kensuke!" His face appeared flush as he fidgeted with excitement.

A short, stocky brown-haired boy, who she assumed was Kensuke, seemed to struggle with the taller boy for a moment. "Don't get your greasy fingerprints on 'em, I paid a lot of money for these."

"The chick's pretty hot," said a third boy. The third boy was athletic, his spiked hair bleached blond. "I could do without the dude being in them though."

Kensuke, Gangly and Blondie then.

Kensuke elbowed Blondie hard in the ribs. "You little pussy! I got nudes of one of the upperclassmen and you're complaining cuz' she's with a dude? You total virgin."

"Yeah, only a virgin complains about dudes being in porn with women," said Gangly, a bit too forcefully.

Yup. Definitely a bunch of cherry boys trying to act all big and bad. But she shoved her amusement aside, because it seemed she'd recently acquired a competitor. It was time to get to the bottom of this.

She hovered over them, trying to get a peek at the glossy photos they were gawking at. Blissfully unaware of her presence, they talked about what they'd do to the girl in their pictures.

"I'd go down on her like the Musashi," said Blondie.

Yikes what a total dork.

"Nah man, she's gotta show me she's worth with her mouth first," Kensuke said, "but then again you were always pussy-whipped."

"Hey!"

As amusing as their antics were, it was time to break up this little party. Nabiki leaned her elbow on Blondie's shoulder and propped her head up. "Well well, what have we here?"

They spooked quite easily, crying out as they jumped. The photos were thrown up and fluttered down like confetti. Nabiki snatched one as it fell down. "Look on the bright side," she chuckled, "at least I only figuratively caught you with your pants down."

"What do you want?" said Kensuke.

"Everything. But to start, I guess I'd like to find out where you got these photos from." As Nabiki savored her moment of triumph, she glanced down at the photograph. Her heart skipped a beat, and suddenly this stopped being a sophomoric game to her.

The photo was quite well composed, she had to admit. Good lens choice, quality film stock, and the right shutter speed for the lighting conditions. It was the contents that made her blood run cold. Boy-Ranma sat leaning against a tree, in a state of undress. His mouth hung open in a gasp, his cheeks glowed red. Her younger sister, stripped to the waist, knelt before him. Akane was nibbling at the boy's nipple while her arm went out of frame toward Ranma's crotch.

Kensuke glared up at her defiantly. "I ain't got nothing to say to you. I bought those fair and square. It's not like you're with the student council or nothing, so give it back."

"I won't be asking nicely again," she said coldly. The playful tone in her voice and her Cheshire cat grin had vanished without a trace.

Her glare had given them pause, but they were too young and dumb to realize the heap of trouble they were getting themselves into. Blondie puffed himself up. "You heard him, we ain't saying nothing. Go on back and play with your dollhouse before we get mad."

"Wrong answer." While Nabiki was never going to be a great martial arts prodigy, the training her father had given her hadn't ever really left. Faster than Blondie could react, she jabbed him in the nose and in the solar plexus. As he doubled over, she grabbed him by the collar of his gakuran and threw him down the flight stairs.

While Blondie moaned at the bottom of the stairwell, she turned back to Kensuke. "The girl in that photo is my younger sister. I normally prefer to do my fighting with words, but you've sorely tested my patience. Now you're going to tell me who sold you that photo."

"He's a second year…I don't know his name honest. He's short, got black hair, kind of gaunt and creepy looking. Almost like a skeleton."

Nabiki's fists clenched. "Gosunkugi." She stormed out of the stairwell. As soon as she was out of sight, the two boys rushed to their companion's aid.

Nabiki had a long contemplative walk as she sought out that bastard Gosunkugi. She was angry at those cretins, and angry at Gosunkugi for being such a creep. But worst of all, she was angry at herself.

While she never let anyone realize it, Nabiki had a very firm list of rules that she held herself to. They were lines she resolved never to cross, so that she could still tell herself she wasn't a complete monster.

It felt empty now, seeing the fruits of another so callously invading the privacy of her family. She'd always told herself that it was just supply and demand. If the boys (and occasionally, girls) of Furinkan didn't pay her to sate their voyeuristic urges, they'd just find some other way of doing it. She wasn't really responsible; she was just the one smart enough to make a few bucks off something that was going to happen anyway.

She sighed. It was a nice lie, wasn't it?

Like a chip in the windshield, that first little chink quickly became a spider's web of cracks in the armor of lies she wrapped herself in: I'm just making the free loading house guest pay his fair share; I'm not a parasite if I give some of it back to the family; I can wash the blood off my hands if I help my sis go to the university she wants.

I don't know what's worse: that I actually once believed this bullshit, or if I'm too much of a coward to be truthful with myself. It was as though all the myriad days since her mother had passed vanished like the morning dew, and she was that same scared, hurt little girl again. Because if your mother can just up and die on you, who can you trust. Gotta look out for number one.

The words kept echoing in her head. It made her sick.

She found her target peddling his wares by the lunch line. She swooped in like a hawk, and pushed her way to the front of the line.

When they protested, Nabiki glared back, memorizing each of their faces. "Shop's closed. Gosunkugi and I are going to have a little chat."

These students were a bit older, and her reputation carried considerably more weight. She didn't even have to make any threats of great vengeance or furious anger. They all knew she could and would find a way to make them pay.

"What do you want, Tendo-san?" Gosunkugi said.

"Don't play dumb with me Gosunkugi. Did you really think I wouldn't find out."

That slack-jawed, mouthbreathing little cretin impudently shrugged his shoulders, as though he had been guilty of putting a whoopee cushion on her chair. "What, are you jealous that I'm providing a better product than you?"

It felt like a knife in heart. She growled wordlessly at him.

"Oh my, we've just started the repartee and I already have the upper hand. You're getting a bit long in the tooth it seems, Tendo-san."

"You've invaded the privacy of my family, Gosunkugi. You're going to give me the film, and all the copies you've made, or I will destroy you."

"Bit rich coming from you. I've forked over my allowance many times to get shots of Akane in her underwear."

"This isn't the same and you know it! Whatever happened to your 'undying affection' for my sister? You're peddling smut with her in it."

He actually scoffed. "That's before I found out what a slut she was. I didn't take those photos planning on selling them. But when I saw the things she was doing to that jerk, I knew I had to get my revenge on both of them."

She barely even knew you existed and you're acting like she did this to spite you, Nabiki said to herself. "I don't give a fuck about why you think you're still the hero, Gosunkugi. I'm going to ruin you."

"Ah don't be like that Nabiki-chan," said Gosunkugi, "here, take this one on the house." He reached into his uniform pocket, producing another photo. "You'll be happy to know this one isn't on the market yet. But if we're going to go to war, then there's no reason left to hold it in reserve."

Until this moment, Nabiki had been absolutely certain that no one who wasn't family had seen her naked. She was paranoid about most everything, constantly scheming to stay on top in the rat race of life, but she confidently believed that her modesty remained intact. That last little bit of security was shattered.

Gosunkugi had got her good. It had to be a telephoto lens. But even then, getting just the right angle to be able to peer in through her bedroom window, and snap a photo of her sprawled out naked on her bed, pleasuring herself when she had thought she was alone and had the house to herself...she was almost impressed. But the sense of violation cut her deep.

He stared at her smugly, hanging that photo (and others, she guessed) over her like the Sword of Damocles. She contemplated giving in and cutting her losses. After all, she had to look out for number one, right?

She wiped the look of trepidation from her face, and calmly grabbed the photo. He yielded it with a smirk, confident in his victory.

"You know, Gosunkugi, if you weren't such a complete waste of skin, you might make a decent photographer. You even captured my good side.

Fuck looking out for number one.

"But we both know I have to kill you now. So you can take your offer and shove it."

She began walking away, casually tossing the photograph aside. It was time to regroup…and figure out a way to break the news to those involved. She did not relish the thought.

One of Ranma's friends approached her. Hiroshi…or was it Daisuke? She could never keep them straight in her head. "Hey Nabiki, um I've been hearing some pretty bad rumors and well, I figured I should go straight to you since they're about Ranma. Umm, how much is this gonna cost me?"

She sighed. "I'll tell you all I know free of charge."

"Um, are you running a fever?"

Oww. "No, I'm perfectly fine. I'm trying to do the right thing for once. Gosunkugi has been selling some photos with boy-Ranma and Akane…caught in the act, so to speak. I'm going to war with him over it and he's going to be selling some photos he has of me in retaliation. So could you do me a favor and not buy it, cuz I'm trying to hold onto what little dignity I have left."

She could tell he was imagining something he found quite pleasant. His eyes glazed over for a moment, and he blushed a little. "Ah, that explains a lot I suppose. Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad you're not a complete monster." He looked her up and down, quite obviously mentally undressing her. "It'll be difficult to resist the temptation, but I think I'll manage."

"Thanks…I guess?"

Nabiki heard someone stomping towards her. She turned to see Tatewaki Kuno marching down the hall, muttering under his breath. "…All that most maddens and torments" said Kuno, "all that stirs up the lees of things; all truth with malice in it; all that cracks the sinews and cakes the brain; all the subtle demonisms of life and thought; all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visibly personified…"

Nabiki and the brown-haired boy stood silently as Kuno marched by. They watched him pass out of earshot, while Kuno managed to outdo himself in maniacal raving.

"Is he quoting Moby-Dick?" she asked.

"I dunno, I slept through that class," the boy replied.

"Daisuke, you're just going to have to mentally undress me some other time. I have a really bad feeling about this." Nabiki stormed off after Kuno, a pit of dread welling up in her chest.

"It's Hiroshi!" the boy cried out angrily.

Nabiki followed Kuno to the kendo club room. He did not seem to notice her following as he drove on, filled with some terrible resolve. His long legs carried him so fast that she had to jog to keep up with him. When she came upon the kendo room, the door was left wide open. She crept into the darkened room.

Kuno knelt before a shrine at the far side of the room. In the shadows, she saw him remove a long thin object from a rack, clutching it with both hands. The well-polished blade gleamed as he drew it from its scabbard. "To the last, I grapple with thee," raved Kuno, "from hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee."

"Kuno, whatever it is you're planning, you're making a mistake," said Nabiki.

But as he turned towards her, she knew he was beyond the reach of reason. "Fair Nabiki, do not attempt to deter me from my course. I have seen what honor demands, and I will have satisfaction."

"So you saw the photos."

"Yes. I did not believe the rumors. I did not—nay—could not believe that Tendo Akane would sully herself. But my idol has been cast down! A graven image of my pure love! I thought her different! But what rot; she is no different from the rest of the strumpets. Worse, she ensnared my heart, all the while opening her legs for that vile cur Saotome!"

"You're not making any sense, Kuno." But that was a lie. She knew exactly what he meant with his rantings. Her blood ran cold thinking about it.

"It makes perfect sense. I shall be rid of this accursed passion once and for all. I shall destroy them."

"You don't mean—"

"If I cannot have her, then no one can. I shall haunt the earth for all eternity."

Nabiki instinctively stepped back. Kuno smirked, confident his point had been made. He sheathed the katana, and tied it to his belt. After a quick prayer, he stood and began his march towards destiny.

Nabiki stopped him at the door, placing her hand firmly on his shoulder. "I won't let you, Kuno."

"Nabiki…I had chosen to forget all that you did to encourage my delusions about Akane. All that you profited from my pure and innocent love for her. I forget no longer; stand aside or I will strike you down as well."

"No."

"Very well then. You shall join me in haunting Furinkan High." Kuno stepped back, and fluidly drew his sword, raising it high above his head in the jodan posture. As the sword began its arc downwards, instinct took over. Nabiki rushed inside the arc of the blade, grabbing Kuno by the wrists. The force shook her to the bone, but the blade hung motionless over her.

Kuno jerked backwards and kicked at her legs. Caught off guard, Nabiki's grip broke, and she found herself sprawled out on the lacquered wooden floor. As she tried to get up, she felt cold steel touch her neck.

"Such gallantry. I did not expect it from you, mercenary-woman. Stay down and live Nabiki. You're no match for me."

Nabiki cursed all the days since she gave up the Art as she seethed with impotent rage. She did what he commanded, and watched as stormed off to wreak his vengeance. She felt warm blood trickle down her neck. Her legs shook like jelly as she stood up. Somehow, she found a reserve of strength she didn't know she had. Summoning it all up, she ran to find help.

Chapter Text

Cologne stirred the pot of pork stock absentmindedly. The cold crone sat perched upon her staff in the kitchen of the Cat Café, but her thoughts had wandered elsewhere.

A fortnight ago, the shadow of her son-in-law had arrived at the café carrying her battered great-granddaughter Shampoo. Mousse was chomping at the bit to settle accounts with the young woman before any explanation could be given. A pot of cold tea had settled that issue.

But the problem had not been solved. Shampoo may have survived her suicide mission, but now Cologne’s hand had been forced. She’d been biding her time; planning, scheming, strategizing, anything to find a way for the bright young Amazon girl to safe face.

What am I to do? Cologne silently wondered. Torn between deflecting the inevitable marriage of the male Ranma to Akane, or killing the female Ranma, Shampoo had decided to accept exile instead.

Cologne began quietly chopping vegetables. She’d never been forced to by an Amazon vow to kill someone she cared about. The thought of it made the knife feel heavy in her hand. The clack of the blade on the well-worn cutting board stopped.

Cologne set the knife down, and hopped out the back of the café. The trees were blooming quite vigorously this spring. Work could wait, she decided, as she struck a match off the weathered wooden handrail. She lit up her pipe, and looked back into the cozy little café that was now her home. Well I suppose there are worse places to retire to.

“Now where did that near-sighted fool get to?” she said aloud.

Ranma lazily strolled into the classroom, blissful with post-lunch grogginess. He slumped into his desk. It had been sunny that morning, but now thick gray storm clouds were gathering. Oh well, he thought after a long yawning look out the window, left my umbrella at home again. At least I’m not made of sugar.

He barely noticed Akane sitting down behind him. She methodically laid out her notes and world history textbook before her. Always such a proper student; he’d never let her know it but he admired her scholarly diligence. Not enough to become a model student himself, of course, he had much better things to do like training, fending off fiancées, scoring free food at street stall, or pretending to be a lovestruck girl fawning over Ryoga.

Something tugged at his heart, like words that could never be spoken. Well it’s not like I’ll be able to do those things anymore, he said to himself. You’re cured, be happy about it. Then why do I feel like I’m missing pieces?

“Hey dummy,” said Akane, interrupting his moment of introspection, “we’ve got a test today. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Of course I am. I’ve got everything under control.” He leaned back in his chair, sighing with relaxation.

Akane cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Ooohkay…”

The armor of his confidence started cracking under the weight of his hubris. “Well, maybe I have a couple questions…”

“Like?”

“Well, we’re still on Europe right?”

“You haven’t been paying attention at all have you?”

“Well, I might have dozed off maybe once or twice.”

“Well you’re in luck, we’re still on middle ages Europe.”

“Oh thank god. So they call it the middle ages right? Well, what’s it in the middle of?”

Akane groaned and buried her face in her palm. “Come on, Tomino-sensei covered that on the first day of the unit!”

“Fine, I’ll just guess on that. Moooving on,” said Ranma, as he dug out his notebook. He flipped back and forth through its mostly empty pages before finally finding the right page. The pages were haphazardly filled with his chicken scratch handwriting punctuated with cartoon doodles of knights jousting. A single English phrase was circled and underlined twice. He read it out loud. “Ah, this was bothering me for a while. Why do they call it a ‘passion play’? Tomino-sensei showed us a video of one, and there wasn’t a whole lot of romance in it.”

“That’s…a good question actually.” Akane became paging through her voluminous notebook. “Ah. I made a note of it here: while the English word ‘passion’ is often translated in Japanese to ‘enthusiasm’ or ‘ardor’, apparently its original Latin meaning is ‘suffering’.”

“That is ominous.”

Ranma heard the rasp of nails being plucked violently from wood. He turned to see the classroom door torn from its hinges by a mighty blow. It clattered to the ground, revealing the seething face of Tatewaki Kuno. Kuno stood like a man possessed, blood boiling and fingers wrapped in white-knuckle deathgrip on his sword.

“Saotome!” yelled Kuno. Ranma felt his blood curdle as a twinge of fear washed over him. “Our vendetta shall end today, one way or the other.” He tossed his scabbard aside. “To the death!”

Madness and the Kuno clan had always been inseparable. But today he seemed totally beyond the reach of reason. Kuno began advancing towards Ranma. Several students, including Akane’s friend Sayuri stood frozen in his path, transfixed in terror. “Kuno! Not here!” cried Ranma.

“It will be here and now, coward.”

Ranma paused a moment, calculating the best way to draw this fight away from bystanders. He hesitated a moment too long. One of the boys in his class had stepped in Kuno’s path. He held his hands out as he said “Kuno-senpai, this isn’t the way of kendo.”

“You side with the vile Saotome over your captain?” Kuno raised his blade. It began its deadly arc downwards. “Traitor!”

Ranma’s body seemed to move all its own. He watched the blade slowly arc towards the kendo club kōhai as he raced forward. He wasn’t quite fast enough. Their bodies crashed together as he roughly pushed the younger kendoka out of the arc of Kuno’s sword. At first he didn’t feel anything as the edge drew across his shoulder and chest. His cherry red tangzhaung began to darken near the cut. He felt sticky, damp warmth spread across his chest.

Suddenly he felt very cold and his legs seemed to collapse under him. He felt hitting the ground and suddenly that neat line across his skin was on fire with pain. He found himself sucking for air, unable to even cry out.

It was all so sudden, Akane barely even knew what had happened. One moment she was helping Ranma prepare for the test. Then Kuno barged in, there was shouting, and now Ranma lay on the ground, blood slowly pooling around him.

Kuno let out a harrumph of triumph before turning his murderous gaze to her. It wasn’t Kuno behind those glazed over eyes. It couldn’t be, not even he was that crazy. The monster that looked like Kuno took a single deliberate step towards her. She felt her senses returning to her, the cold numbness quickly boiling over into fury. She howled as she grabbed her desk and threw it at Kuno.

With a swift upward stroke, he neatly bisected the aluminum and particle board desk. Two chairs and another desk followed, each carved apart. It didn’t matter to her. As long as she kept throwing things, Kuno couldn’t take advantage of Ranma’s injury and finish the job. She kept throwing desks, chairs, leather bookbags, potted plants and anything else she could get her hands on.

Kuno advanced slowly under the hail. She couldn’t hear what he was babbling about, something about spending eternity in hell together. After exhausting her ammunition, she kicked through the exterior window. After daring Kuno to chase her, Akane jumped the three stories to the ground below, landing amidst the scattered shards of glass.

Her legs screamed under the strain, but she pushed onwards, running as quickly as she could. She could hear Kuno’s wild screams behind her.

She saw her salvation laying discarded on the baseball diamond. A slightly beaten up metal baseball bat left near the home plate. She prayed it would be enough.

Nabiki had barely finished explaining the situation to Ranma when she heard Kuno’s wailing rise up from the baseball field. It was all the direction she needed. She mounted the chainlink safety fence and leaped off the top. She tore through the brambles surrounding the school as she homed in on the sound.

She heard the pounding of running feet behind her, which she could only assume was Ukyo. A voice in her head admonished her to think before she acted. She couldn’t bear the thought of being too late.

She was almost around the building when she heard something whistling towards her at great speed. Instinctively, she skidded to a halt. A black rose plunged into the ground in front of her, embedded up to the bud.

“Not now Kodachi!” shouted Ranma. She searched the surroundings. The trees swayed softly. The chain link fence rattled quietly. Something was lying in wait to ambush her.

Ukyo trotted up beside her. “What is it, Ranma?”

“Quiet,” whispered Ranma, “Kodachi’s out there, up to no good.”

She could still hear the distant clash of blade, and Kuno’s continued rambling. She heard that whistling sound again. Another rose came shooting towards her like a bullet. Ranma leaped out of its path. It embedded in the ground right next to where she’d been standing. A split-second later, it exploded into a cloud of black smoke.

Ukyo had dodged out of the way too. With a flick of her wrist, the chef threw a volley of her spatula shuriken. The small blades slashed through the brush before embedding into the dirt or tree bark beyond. “Rats,” said Ukyo.

Ranma began to feel blood trickling down from her arm. A dark patch was blooming from her side. She winced as she pulled something sharp from the wound. It was one of the Rose petals. The wound itself was a minor annoyance. The shrapnel was probably poisoned too. “Ukyo, did you get hit?

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything sugar.”

“Go help Akane.”

“What, you can’t be serious.”

“I am. Kodachi is not after you, she’s after me. She’s going to wait out there until the poison weakens me and then try to finish me off. You need to make sure everyone else is okay. I’ll catch up when I can.”

Ukyo look at her plaintively. Ranma smiled back at her cockily, as if to say you’ll only slow me down anyway. “Ran-chan, you heard what Nabiki said. Her brother’s seriously out to kill Akane and you—er the other you. What’s to say they aren’t working together, or she won’t try to kill you too?”

Ranma heard the Black Rose’s muffled laughter out in the brambles. Her hands tightened into white-knuckle fists. “Today is not the day I die.”

Ukyo took a few backwards steps before turning to run. Ranma sighed with relief. Now, time to deal with that bitch, she said to herself.

The haughty laughter grew louder. Kodachi, the so-called Black Rose of St. Bacchus School for Girls, waltzed out of the brambles. Still that same dumb green leotard, thought Ranma.

Kodachi drew her gymnastics ribbon. “Oh, such valiance, Pig-Tailed Girl. Didn’t want your little girlfriend to see you bleed? No matter--”

“Yeah, no more of this posturing bullshit.” Ranma charged headlong at Kodachi mid monologue.

The boy Ranma lay strewn out like a rag doll on the floor. The blood pooled slowly around his still body.

The room had been stunned to silence. It happened all too quickly. One moment they had been waiting for class to start, the next the mad captain of the Kendo club had attacked. Choking, guttering sobs started. Blood, so much of it, they whispered between cries. The smell, the awful stillness of their classmates body, so many other broken thoughts uttered in disbelief.

Akane’s friend Yuka crept closer to Ranma’s fallen body, a mask of terror on her face. Her hand covered her mouth as she stifled her sobbing and the dry heaves she felt welling up in her belly. “Is he?” she said, too afraid to finish.

Ranma’s eyes flickered open. He snarled wordlessly as he jumped to his feet, clutching the gash across his torso. “He cut me! That bastard actually cut me!”

A few of his classmates jumped at his seeming resurrection. A few of them already on the borderline fainted from the shock.

Like a wounded tiger, Ranma searched out the threat. “Where did he go? Where’s Akane?” he demanded. When no answer came, his rage turned towards the stunned throng of classmates. “Tell me!”

“The window…they went out the window” said a quiet voice.

Heedless of the danger, Ranma plunged headlong out the window. Each step brought a new stab of pain. He pressed on anyway, following the trail of destruction left by Kuno. The path led him out towards the supply sheds at the edge of campus.

He sensed danger. In the nick of time, he jumped out of the way of a hail of spears, kunai daggers, and an errant training potty.

“Mousse! I don’t have time for this!” he shouted.

Mousse continued his attack. The chain sprung out of his sleeves like a viper bearing gleaming metal teeth. “Then you’re going to make time, cretin.”

Ranma stepped out of the arc of the blade and caught it with his good hand as it sailed passed. “Akane is in trouble. Let me pass.”

Mousse yielded the chain. He pulled a naginata out from his sleeve, and lunged forward.

Either he’s gotten faster, or I’m slower, thought Ranma. He was barely keeping out of the path of the giant glaive. “Seriously, where do you keep that thing?”

“Ancient Amazon secret. I’ll tell it to you after I kill you.”

Ranma was starting to feel woozy from the loss of blood. His feet seemed sluggish and unresponsive. “Seriously, why this time?”

“You’re the reason Shampoo can never come home.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about it.”

The next slash drew a shallow cut across Ranma’s belly. Barely a scratch, but if this kept up he was going to end up a shish kebab. “Because of what you’ve done, Shampoo can’t fulfill the Kiss of Marriage. And since she won’t fulfill the Kiss of Death, she is no longer and Amazon. You…you stole her from me and you don’t even have the decency to take her. You sicken me!”

Getting him talking worked. Mousse had distracted himself enough that Ranma was able to step inside the arc of the blade. With a quick strike, the collapsible pole broke apart, sending the blade skittering across the sand.

Mousse attacked on Ranma’s wounded side. The punch got through unguarded, and connected squarely on the livid wound across his shoulder. The wound felt like someone had poured molten lead on it. Ranma howled as he fought to keep his focus in the fight.

 Step in, let him think he’s got another free punch on the wound, he said to himself, forget about the pain. He repeated that mantra as Mousse took the bait. “Chestnut Fist: Deadarm Edition!”

Rather than attempt to block the blow, he focused all of his strength and repeatedly punched Mousse’s dominant arm. The Amazon boy’s cross still connected awkwardly with Ranma’s hanging arm, but it lost much of its force.

Mousse jumped back. His right arm hung limp by his side. “Now you try fighting with one arm, jerk,” chided Ranma.

He heard pounding footsteps approaching. He turned to face the coming threat. But Ukyo ran past him, combat spatula at the ready. It was all the encouragement he needed. Still fighting the pain, he jointed Ukyo’s counterattack and didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for not having a fair fight. Working together, it didn’t take long to maneuver Mousse into a faucet, promptly smashed by one of Ukyo’s spatulas. The duck quacked with furious, impotent rage.

“Ucchan, we need to get to Akane,” panted Ranma.

“I know, when we heard we came as fast as we could.”

Ranma jogged after the trail of destruction. “We?”

“The other you is holding off Kodachi right now. She said I should come help.”

He barely made it ten meters when his legs just gave out under him. He tried to get up. Ukyo put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t, you’re too hurt. I’ll go on.”

“But—”

“Just consider it an early wedding present from me.”

There was a hint of sadness in her voice. Maybe they both finally understood the difference between love and infatuation. All he could do now is trust in his oldest friend.

Akane didn’t know how much longer she could keep up this fighting retreat. Kuno seemed to quake with fury as he approached. She parried his strokes as best she could with the aluminum bat. Then she’d throw sand in his eyes, find something to throw at him, anything to slow him down and gain separation.

They were way off in the back quarter of the Furinkan campus now, and she was about to run out of ground to give up. The tall chain link fences wouldn’t stop her from escaping. But they’d slow her down enough for Kuno’s sword to strike home.

She didn’t know if it was the fear of death, or the anger that had kept her going. Or how much longer it could sustain her. If he killed her here, then at least Ranma would be safe.

Akane felt the cold galvanized iron fence press into her back. It was like the icy jaws of death.

“What is it that the commoners say now,” said Kuno, “a delightful little metaphor. End of the line, Akane.”

“Kuno, it’s not too late. Just walk way. This is just madness.”

“Is it? You’ve ensnared me…bewitched me for too long. I thought you pure…but you’re just a whore underneath it all. You ensnared my beloved Tree-borne Kettle Girl, all the while you cavort with that vile Saotome.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about Kuno.”

Kuno threw a small pile of photographs at Akane’s feet. She could see the story they told without having to pick them up. An intense wave of violation crashed over her. Someone had seen her and Ranma. And worse, they’d been selling the photographs. Were it not for the very real danger right in front of her, she might have puked from the embarrassment.

“What Ranma and I do is none of your damn business,” she spat.

“Oh, I’d heard the rumors. But I didn’t—couldn’t—believe them. I needed to see the truth, and then Gosunkugi revealed everything to me. I won’t stand for this.”

“What part of ‘none of your damn business’ don’t you understand. I have never wanted anything to do with you. I’ve always told you what I felt: that you sicken me and I wouldn’t be yours if you were the last man on Earth.”

“Enough of your lies, harlot! My feeling were pure. But you just kept misunderstanding, you wouldn’t see reason, how good I was for you.” Kuno seemed to slip into a conniption as he recalled his personal—albeit insane—recollection of their shared history. “Enough lies! Join me in haunting Furinkan High, Tendo Akane!”

Akane ducked as the arc of Kuno’s blade sliced through the fence. She aimed the bat at his knee, but the sword drew back just in time to block. Another rapid slash came, and now his blade had bound against the bat. Akane gritted her teeth, and tried to push him back. But his height advantage gave him leverage over her, and she was already starting to bend backwards under his onslaught.

She heard something whistle through the air. There was a wet chopping sound, and Kuno suddenly spasmed. His shoulders drew back, and his arms opened up, pulling the blade away. Akane swung the bat with all her might. She connected with his stomach. The upward stroke lifted him off the ground, and sent him twirling through the air.

She saw one of Ukyo’s throwing spatulas embedded in Kuno’s back as he landed like a sack of rotten rice. Ukyo was on the hill behind him panting. Akane felt the rush of adrenaline receding, leaving a feeling of empty exhaustion. With what strength she had left, Akane began running back to the school. She prayed he was alright.

Class had been cancelled for the rest of the day. And even by the much lower standards of public security set by the world’s cantankerous martial arts community, this time it was enough to get the police involved.

The worst was over now. Statements had been taken. While Mousse had managed to slip out of this one, both Kodachi and Tatewaki were safely sedated by medical professionals. With any luck, the girl Ranma thought, there was a cure for their madness awaiting them.

She sat on the back of an ambulance, wool safety blanket wrapped around her shoulders, drinking lukewarm tea from a paper cup. The antidote seemed to be working. She felt like she could breathe almost normally now. It had taken a few minutes to corner Kodachi, but when she did the Black Rose went down like a chump.

Maybe I’m getting stronger, she thought. This had just been Kodachi’s usual game. She seemed blissfully unaware of what was going on.

Kuno had been a surprise. She hadn’t seen what real madness could bring up close, but she’d seen the trail of destruction he’d left. She shuddered thinking about how close they’d been to real disaster.

Ranma felt herself getting restless. Deciding she was strong enough, she got up for a stroll. Akane was off consoling her distraught father. Even all the way across the campus, she could tell that he was inconsolable about the danger his baby girl had been in.

Her male half was sulking. He was sitting on the back bumper of another ambulance, staring morosely at the bedlam that had been unleashed. He’d been stitched and bandaged up by the paramedics. A half-liter of O- blood hung next to him.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

“Everyone’s okay. So what’s eating at you now?”

“That I let Kuno get the better of me. That because of my weakness, I had to leave the responsibility of protecting Akane to someone else.”

The girl chuckled, “You know, I half expected you to get all defensive so I could pull some shtick about lying to yourself, but now you’ve ruined it. Still…I heard about what happened. That you took the hit to save someone else. I just wanted to let you know that I’m proud of you, for what it’s worth.”

“I got hit because I wasn’t fast enough.”

“Oh can it. It’s not every day Kuno brings a real sword the fight. You saved an innocent bystander. That’s praiseworthy.”

The boy mulled it over for a minute. “It’s still eating me that I couldn’t push through it. Mousse had to interfere, that little bastard. Ukyo had to be the one to press on without me.”

“Eh, sometimes someone else gets to be the hero. I’d like to have done more, but that poison put me on the clock. Best thing I could do is take Kodachi off the board and hope that she didn’t hit me with anything lethal. I certainly didn’t feel heroic gasping for breath on the goddamn tennis courts.”

The boy sighed. “Did you hear what started this.”

“I already knew about that.”

“You did? You mean I’ve been feeling guilty and tiptoeing around you for nothing?”

“Oh, not for nothing. I still sometimes want to punch you.”

Chapter Text

The sun was setting on Nabiki’s empire. The desolation wrought by Kuno’s rampage was cut in sharper relief in the pale orange twilight. The Ice Queen of Furinkan stood at the gate, mindlessly rubbing at the shallow cut on her neck.

Their eyes had passed silent judgment as they left. Or was that the paranoia acting up again. Nabiki sighed as she slumped against the fence. Whatever anyone else believed, she knew she was in the heart of this maelstrom, and there was no running from it.

Her ‘associates’ had kept their distance from her. Smart play, she thought bitterly, I taught them well.

She was just about ready to begin the walk home when she heard a familiar voice. She turned to see Tsubaki Yui smiling warmly at her behind brown bangs.

Nabiki had never considered herself friends with Yui, except in the professional sense. Nabiki preferred the comfortable numbness of solitude, but her ambition always got the better of her. Her cons and petty hustles grew big enough that she needed some help. And she supposed she got a queer sort of pride in teaching others to not be weighed down by maidenly concerns.

“Ah Yui, thought you would’ve gone home by now,” said Nabiki. That nagging feeling of unbalance settled some.

“Chief…there’s something I gotta show you.” Yui glanced furtively for eavesdroppers, then handed Nabiki something wrapped in a kerchief.

The mercenary girl sighed, already guessing at the contents. She unwrapped it anyway, bracing for the feeling of violation. There were a couple of shots, taken from different days, each more violating than the last. She tried to soothe the tremble in her lips. “Guess I’ll never get used to seeing myself in glossy print.”

“That voodoo obsessed muppet was selling these. I…I bought up what I could, but he obviously has more. Chief, we’re in trouble. The administration is already talking about clamping down on us, and now no one will take you seriously. There’s rumors going around that you’ve become a gravure model…or worse.”

There was nothing to fill the silence, not even the barest whimper of cicadas. This was the bitter fruit of her labors, and she could stomach it no longer.

“We have to think of a counterstrategy, or we’re sunk,” said Yui.

Nabiki tucked the photos away. Yui looked up at her with hopeful eyes. But it was time to disappoint them. “I’m sunk either way, Yui. Don’t go down with the ship.”

“What?”

“I’m out of the game. I guess I don’t have the stomach for it. It’d be better for you and the others to continue on without me as a liability. Besides, I’m graduating soon anyway. This just accelerated things.”

Her cute little kouhai was on the verge of tears. “Senpai, you can’t!”

“I must. Go on, you’ll be fine. Don’t go crying over someone like me.”

Nabiki groaned inwardly. Maybe she had a bit of a soft-spot for Yui, having taken the underclassmen under her wing. But that didn’t mean she liked having to play the big sister role. She hugged the crying girl, and told her that it was going to be okay. It wasn’t, but she supposed it was the thought that counted. Yui finally got a hold of herself. She left just at dusk, promising to keep a seat open for Nabiki.

The mercenary waved as Yui left. Only the most loyal had come. A faint smile curled on her lips. Then a cruel thought ran through her head. Something didn’t add up. She hoped it was just the paranoia.

Several days later

A sharply tolling bell roused Hiroshi from his nap. Bleary-eyed and still half-asleep, he slithered off his western-style bed. He lay limp on the floor, staring up at the whirling ceiling fan for a moment. The bell tolled again, and it dawned on him that it was his door-bell. He shook the cobwebs out of his mind and rolled to his feet.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he muttered.

The doorbell rang again, more insistently. Hiroshi glanced at his watch by rote. Something was knocking at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t place it.

The blinding sunlight assaulted him as soon as he opened the door. He squinted at the unfamiliar red-haired boy standing on the stoop, wearing a crisp black gakuran. “Oy, it’s noon-thirty, people are trying to sleep.”

“Really getting the most out of the school closing, huh?” said the redhead.

The gears ground in Hiroshi’s brain, but he was awake now. It wasn’t a boy standing in front of him. His eyes traced up the contour of the gakuran uniform, following the swell of the girl’s hips and the slight bulge of her bosom before settling on Ranma’s smirking face.

“Perv,” she teased.

“Oh hey…that’s a new look.”

“Look, I know I’m early Hiroshi, but you look like you’ve literally just rolled out of bed. You’ve got to have something better to do with time off than just sleep it away.”

Hiroshi scratched awkwardly at the nape of his neck. “Well come on in, I’ll make some tea.” Ranma brushed by him the moment “come” had left his lips. She slipped her trainers off in the tiled foyer and invited herself into the kitchen.

Don’t stare at her butt. Of course, his eyes couldn’t help but disobey a direct order. Hiroshi followed, suppressing the twinge of guilt at leering at his friend.

Ranma had found her way to the kitchen easily enough. The kitchen was modern and homey, but Hiroshi only ever had much use for the toaster oven and the electric kettle. Everything else was the exclusive province of his mother, who’d skin him alive if he broke anything.

Hiroshi filled the kettle from the tap. It docked to the heating element with a satisfying click. Ranma ooed at the cream-colored plastic wonder of the modern world, muttering about how this would’ve been handy to have then. They talked about the weather and how glad they were to get a week off from school for repairs and the police investigation of the Kuno ‘incident’ while the tea brewed. As he poured Ranma a steaming cup, he finally steered the conversation towards his burning questions. “Stop by a costume shop on the way here?”

“Nah, it’s my middle-school uniform. Kasumi was nice enough to help me tailor it.”

“Just wearing it on a lark?”

“Meh, I was feeling boyish today. Thanks to the sports bra and the cut, I can pass fairly well if people aren’t looking too closely.”

Hiroshi stared thoughtfully into his tea, twiddling his thumbs.

“You totally forgot that we were hanging out today.”

“Yup.”

“You are such a dork. Well Daisuke’s going to be here soon. We can watch more of that martial arts anime.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Hokuto no Ken?”

“Yeah! That’s the one.” Ranma flexed, mimicking Kenshiro’s trademark stance. “You are already dead,” she said in her best baritone.

It came out less menacing and more adorable. He felt the deep belly laugh coming on, and though he knew no good would come from it, he couldn’t help himself. He doubled over as he laughed, spilling his tea all over Ranma.

“Oy, what the hell man!” The hot tea had soaked the front of her jacket and trousers. She quaked with fury for a moment before calming herself. “You know, just when I finally stop looking over my shoulder for unexpected soaking, it happens again.”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself. You were too adorable."

“I am not adorable!” growled Ranma. “Whatever. you have a washer, right? Lemme use it and borrow some of your clothes.”

She hadn’t waited for his permission to be storm upstairs to his bedroom. The wooden dressers clacked as Ranma rustled through them. “Yes Ranma, you can borrow some of my clothes. Maybe you’d like the shirt off my back,” he called out after her.

Never a dull day when Ranma is around. Hiroshi tip-toed over the spill, and began searching through the cupboard under the sink for some rags. He found a few clean kitchen rags tucked behind his dad’s old booze bottles. He heard the skitter of socks on tile flooring behind him. As he finished wiping up the mess, the old washing machine rumbled to life. Ranma emerged from the laundry room wearing nothing but a pair of his gym shorts. “Got any baggy t-shirts?”

“Uh…lemme go look,” he said, trying not to stare.

Ranma rolled her eyes. “It’s not like you haven’t seen them before.”

Hiroshi grumbled as he trudged back to his bedroom. He didn’t know why Ranma was always such a tease in his girl form, and at this point it was way too late to ask. After a little digging, he found a clean t-shirt big enough to accommodate Ranma’s bust.

As he handed the shirt to Ranma, Daisuke walked in unannounced. He stood silently in the vestibule, bag in hand, for all too long. “Um, should I come back later?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” said Ranma, “Genius here managed to soak all my clothes in one go. I’m borrowing this while I wash them.”

Daisuke soon explained to a crestfallen Ranma that the video store was all out of Hokuto no Ken. Bribing her with juice and snacks, he patiently explained that the show he had rented, Toppu o Nerae!, came very highly recommended.

Ranma was skeptical. She sat on the floor in front of the TV, crossing her arms in a huff. After popping the VHS tape in, Ranma remained adamant that she wasn’t going to like this show. Her protests were forgotten after she witnessed the cute girls in leotards performing karate in their giant robots.

They watched four episodes without stopping. When the credits rolled on the end of the second tape, Hiroshi could feel the grogginess tugging at his eyes. Daisuke was still awake but barely. Ranma, however, was laying on her stomach right in front of the TV, kicking her feet like a little kid. Hiroshi’s eyes lazily followed her puffy white socks as she kicked in time with the end credits music. “Daisuke, put in the next tape,” she said, not tearing her eyes from the screen.

Daisuke stirred and began to stretch his weary limbs. “There is no next tape.”

Ranma whipped around, her eyes boring holes into him. “What!?” She looked like Daisuke just told her Santa Claus wasn’t real.

“Next tape doesn’t come out until July I think. This is all there is.”

“But…that’s like forever.”

Hiroshi tutted in amusement, “It’s like a month Ranma.”

“Like I said, forever.”

Ranma had a long feline stretch before she jumped to her feet. “Well, let’s go get another show.”

It amazed Hiroshi how quickly the martial artist could change gears. “I suppose. We can get more snacks and juice while we’re out.”

“So,” said Daisuke, “how’s your other half doing?”

Ranma twitched, like a record scratching on the turntable. “He’s doing fine. Akane’s visiting him today.”

“You’ve visited the hospital, right?”

Ranma rolled her eyes. “Yeah things are awkward between us, but it’s not like I’m giving him the cold shoulder. I’ve checked up on him. It’s just…Akane is visiting him today.”

This was certainly interesting. “Oh?”

“We kind of have an unspoken agreement. We don’t intrude when the other is spending time with Akane.” Ranma sighed heavily, “I guess it’s a small mercy he grants me. Besides, he’ll be out soon. I think the docs are only keeping him to study how we can heal so fast.”

Daisuke’s face screwed up. He knew that look quite well, the dark-haired boy was failing to contain a burning question. “Did you hear how it started?” blurted Daisuke.

Hiroshi glared at him, but the cat was already out of the bag.

“What part? I’d already known about him and Akane moving things along for a while. That wasn’t a surprise. Though…as crazy as he is I didn’t think Kuno would snap quite like that.”

Ranma was pretty good at keeping the stoic front, but Hiroshi saw the twinge in her cheeks, and the pain buried in her calm voice. “You knew about it all along? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because it wasn’t any of your business,” she snapped.

Daisuke put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She tried shrugging him off, but Daisuke didn’t relent. “Look, it’s not about the rumors. You’re right, it wasn’t any of our business knowing about their relationship. But it clearly upset you, and we just want to help.”

Ranma sighed, “Fine, but you’re buying me ice cream if you want any more out of me.”

“Mercenary!” said Daisuke.

Hiroshi decided to chime in and maybe bring the attention away from Daisuke’s blushing face. “There’d always been rumors about you, Ranma. Not surprising with how many hot girls clustered around you. It was quite another to see the pictures.”

Ranma glared daggers at him. “I didn’t buy it, I swear, I just saw. Nabiki showed them to me, said she was ‘gathering evidence.’ Believe me, I feel sick too. I thought about how I’d feel if I’d been caught in the camera lens like that—”

“—as though you could get a girlfriend, Hiro,” chided Daisuke.

“Shut up Dai! Look, point is that it made me think about how messed up things are at Furinkan. And I’m sorry for having played a part in it.

Daisuke nodded, “Yeah, what he said.”

Ranma chewed it over a minute. “Well, I suppose I can forgive you. What kind of photos did you buy?”

Something stirred in his conscience, compelling Hiroshi to spill his guts. “Well, mostly just of your girl half…before we knew it was you. But I tore them up after Kuno went nuts. It made me sick to think of how your privacy was violated like that.”

“Well that’s a shame, because we both know you can’t get a girlfriend.”

“Hey!”

Ranma ruffled his hair. “Come on, let’s get going.”

The day had turned out warm and muggy, more than a bit beyond Hiroshi’s comfort zone. If Daisuke minded, he didn’t let on. And Ranma seemed to be completely unaffected. The video store was about a kilometer away, and the redhead spent most of it walking along fences or doing that other annoying shit martial artists seemed to find amusing.

They walked in silence for a couple minutes before Ranma apologized. “Hey Hiro, sorry about teasing you about not having a girlfriend.”

“Eh, it’s not a big deal. More annoying than anything,” he lied.

Ranma gave him a sidelong glance. “I believe you.”

She didn’t, but it was the thought that counted, he supposed. The trio arrived at the video store soon after. Hiroshi pushed through the glass door, relishing the wave of cool air. His heart began to pound with anticipation; was his goddess of VHS rentals working today?

She was standing behind the counter, flashing that gorgeous grin of hers at an undeserving patron. A bit taller than him, a refined elfin face, and long brown hair feathered out like an MTV diva; Hiro couldn’t dream of anything more perfect.

She smiled and waved at him. He wasn’t prepared for this. His heart fluttered, and he waved back at her.

Some voice was trying to get his attention. He was too entranced by his idol to hear the words—until he ran straight into a support column. Everything went fuzzy after that.

He opened his eyes to see gaussian blur wonderland, his VHS goddess looking down at him. And she spoke! She even said his name. Strange how she spoke in a crude, boyish accent. Almost like Ranma’s voice.

Hiroshi reached out to cup her cheek. She seemed to freeze as he touched her. He lay there smiling, gently caressing her in a stupor. The stars in his vision receded, and the image returned to crystal clarity as his delirium ended. And Hiroshi realized that he was lovingly caressing Ranma’s face while she twitched with irritation.

“Oy, Casanova! What’s the big idea?”

Wonderland was gone. Only an austere tiled ceiling, and a pissed off martial artist remained. The pain came soon after.

Ranma pulled him to his feet. He had quite the bump on his head. At least the girl behind the counter came to see if he was okay. He tried to laugh it off like it was nothing. But she seemed genuinely concerned, so that was nice.

He still had that warm fuzzy feeling when Daisuke led him, still dizzy, over to the anime section.

Ranma had been chewing on her thumb pensively. “You’ve got it bad, dontcha.”

Hiroshi shrugged it off. He wasn’t going to outright lie after being so stupid.

“Come on, spill it. I ain’t heard a peep about this girl, and now you go all moony like that.”

Daisuke chimed in. “Ranma’s right, Hiro. You’re head over heels for her, and all I’ve gotten out of you is that there’s a cute girl working here.”

“That’s more than I’ve got,” huffed Ranma. “How come you’re telling him about her, and not me?”

He was cornered now. Time to fess up. “Well, there wasn’t much to tell. I mean, we’ve chatted about movies when I’ve come to rent things but I’ve always been too chicken to ask for her name. And Ranma…it just didn’t feel right to tell another girl about a girl I like.”

That got Ranma’s hackles up. Daisuke groaned, “Oh here we go again.”

“I’m not just a girl, Hiro. I’m still a boy too.”

Hiroshi waved his hands in defeat. “Let’s not get into this again. I’m tellin’ you now aren’t I.”

Ranma started to calm down. She glanced furtively over at the girl behind the counter, who seemed blissfully unaware that she was the subject of the current conversation. Ranma nodded with approval. “She is cute. You should ask her out.”

“What? No! That’d be terrible!”

“Why?”

“It just would, okay.”

“That doesn’t make much sense.”

“If she knows I like her, like ‘like-her like her’, then I’m finished.”

“If you say like again, I’m going to punch you. And that still doesn’t make any sense.”

“Real rich coming from you, Mr. Will-they-or-won’t-they.” The moment the words left his lips, Hiroshi instantly knew he’d made a terrible mistake. Ranma looked at him with murder in her eyes. No, far worse than murder. It was regret.

Hiroshi braced himself for a world ending punch. But nothing came. Ranma instead spun on her heel, and skipped over to the counter. Oh god, she wouldn’t…

Ranma introduced herself to the girl like she was some ordinary girl, and not the ghost of the Man-Among-Men her father had forged. Hiroshi watched helplessly, waiting for the guillotine to drop.

“So, funny story,” said Ranma, smirking back at him. “My friend Hiroshi here hit his head so hard, he plum forgot your name. And now he’s too embarrassed to ask again.”

The clerk laughed, “Well I’m just glad he’s okay. He really seems to enjoy talking about movies. It’d be too tragic if his love for film killed him. It’s Hana, by the way.”

“Well, Hana, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Hiroshi’s a bit shy. But he really likes talking about movies with you.”

“Well, let Hiroshi know that if he wants to talk about movies some more, I get off at eight tonight. I think we’ll be able to have a more ‘productive’ discussion at the café at the end of the block.”

Hana began scribbling something on a sheet of paper. Hiroshi had already tuned out of the conversation just after hearing her name, so her words had gone in one ear and out the other. Ranma might as well have been marching him up the gallows. So he was a bit surprised when Ranma returned with a handwritten note with her name, phone number, and the name of the café written on it, punctuated by a little heart.

“Looks like you’ve got a date, Hiro-chan,” teased Ranma.

Daisuke was jealous. “Ranma! That’s no fair. You have to work your magic for me too!”

Hiroshi was a bit too shell-shocked to respond. He found himself almost in a trance as they selected their rentals and returned home. Madness followed in Ranma’s wake and now he was caught up in it.

When Ranma returned to the Tendo residence, it was later afternoon. Nabiki intercepted her before she could indulge in a nice soak in the furo, and motioned for her to follow out to behind the dojo. Away from any prying eyes and ears.

Ranma sipped on her juice while Nabiki paced in front of her. The mercenary girl bit her lip, clasping her hands in front of her chest like some silent prayer. She let out a heavy a sigh and turned to Ranma. “Listen, it’s painful for me to say this, but I need your h—”

Ranma blinked. “My what?”

“I need your he—hel—”

“Nabiki, you look like you’re about to turn blue.”

“Help! You happy now Saotome, I need your help!”

Ranma slid off the privacy wall, landing with feline grace in front of Nabiki. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it.”

“You’re not my pshrink.”

“And yet you need my help. How does that make you feel?”

“Vulnerable. Scared—” Nabiki’s face scrunched up. “Why the hell am I telling you that?”

Ranma mimed scribbling some notes down on a notepad. “I think we’re nearing a breakthrough, Nabiki-kun.”

“Listen, if I wanted sagely wisdom I’d go visit Tofu-sensei. I need your help with a more practical problem. I need to figure out who has been selling photos of girls at Furinkan.”

“Umm…”

“I meant besides me. I’ve…left that market anyway.”

“Oh that’s easy. Everyone knows it was Gosunkugi that was selling those pictures of Akane and the other me. Don’t worry about him, next time I see him he’s as good as dead.”

“Are you sure?”

“He’s not keeping it a secret, he even admitted it.” But something about the stern look on Nabiki’s face made her begin to doubt that easy conviction.

Nabiki crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Seems a bit provocative for him, doesn’t it? Didn’t it seem odd that a spineless little cretin like him would be so bold?”

“Now that you mention it…shit I was so angry I didn’t think about it. I just wanted to pummel him.”

Nabiki smirked. It reminded Ranma of her old school teachers. “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” said Nabiki, “he had me fooled for a moment. He has some…compromising…photos of me making the rounds, and I felt so violated that I didn’t stop to think.”

“You think he had help?”

“I think he’s someone’s fall guy. And I need your help finding out who.”

“Why me?”

“Because I can trust you. Because we both love Akane in our way. And maybe I’ll be able to sleep soundly again if I can wipe this red from my ledger.”

Ranma chewed it over a minute. “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that you’ve got a lot of ‘red’ in your ledger then.”

Nabiki sighed. “I know, believe me, I know. But I have to start somewhere.”

“Why did you do it at all?”

Nabiki shrugged. When Ranma didn’t relent in her stare, she huffed, “If you’d asked me a month ago, I’d have had the perfect justification. It’d been a lie, but a damn good one. Now…I’m not so sure. I guess I did it because it made me feel good. It was all a great game, and god, I was good at it. All the scheming, the ways of pitting people against each other…it made me feel like I was in control of something.”

Nabiki slumped down against the privacy wall, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. The tears started to come, try as she might to hold them back. “I needed that control. After my world was turned upside down.”

Imagining what could make Nabiki cry filled the redhead with terror. She was the ice-cold, iron-willed heartless queen bitch of Furinkan. Then Ranma remembered her mother, how her absence had left a gaping hole in her heart that could never be filled. “Your mother?”

Nabiki nodded, and buried her face in her knees.

Ranma slid next to her, wrapping an arm around her. Surprisingly, she didn’t shrug away from it. She even turned to hug back, burying her face in the crook of Ranma’s neck. Nabiki whispered, “She left us. I was only five and she left us alone in this cruel world. Dad checked out to lunch that day, and hasn’t come back. The light went out of my world.”

For the first time in her life, Ranma wished she was something other than a martial artist. Like a poet, or a philosopher. Maybe then she’d have something to say. Finding nothing, she just held Nabiki tighter as the tears began to fill her eyes.

“I’ve never told anyone this, Ranma. I’ve bottled it all up inside and tried to smother that feeling of powerlessness. I tried to harden my heart. I can’t fight it anymore.”

“Then don’t try to. You can feel scared and hurt. I’ll be here for you.”

Nabiki held her with an iron grip for a short eternity, crying as quietly as she could. Just a month ago this would have been literally inconceivable. She’d only ever seen the barest glimmer of humanity in Nabiki. As Nabiki pulled away, leaving a damp spot on her shirt, she saw the streaks in Nabiki’s mascara, and wondered how she was feeling this much sympathy for the devil.

Ranma wiped the tears from Nabiki’s cheeks. “Don’t,” she whispered, “you’ll get makeup on your hands.”

“I don’t mind.”

“So,” Nabiki sniffled, and something of the calm woman with nerves of steel returned. “The matter at hand. There’s something rotten going on here. And I need to unravel it. Will you help me?”

Nabiki was right, she concluded. Something more was going on here. Whatever it was had almost gotten Akane and her other half killed. Either intentionally or through malicious ignorance. “Absolutely.”

Nabiki cleaned up quickly and efficiently. No one could tell by looking at her that she’d broken down sobbing mere minutes ago. The redhead got the unspoken message. The former ice queen led Ranma upstairs to her room. After shutting the door and stuffing a towel under it to muffle any noise, Nabiki pulled a box from among the many in her closet. Each was labelled in Roman numerals. Nabiki slumped onto her bed, and set the box labeled ‘twenty’ onto her bed.

“I keep my various supplies, blackmail material, photos, etc., all in these numbered boxes. There’s no card index.” Nabiki pointed to her head, “It’s all organized up here. I’ve been reserving box twenty for a long time. Twenty in Roman numerals is ‘XX’.”

She paused, waiting for Ranma to make the next leap. When she didn’t, Nabiki huffed, “Come on, you’re the one that had to get fluent in English while you were gallivanting across the globe for a cure.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“What’s an ‘x’ look like.”

“A cross?”

Nabiki said the English phrase “Double-cross.”

“Oh! Like betrayal, you mean. That’s pretty clever.”

“Thanks, I learned about some spies who did something similar. That’s the significance. We’re facing an enemy as ruthless and conniving as me. You’re not going to like what I’ve been collecting in here.”

Nabiki pulled the lid of, revealing a mess of papers and glossy photographs. A picture of Akane and the other Ranma caught in flagrante delicto sat on the very top. The redhead suddenly felt ill and tore her eyes away.

“Ranma, I’m sorry, but this won’t be easy. I need you to detach yourself from this, and do what needs to be done.”

Nabiki was right. Someone had attacked someone very dear to her. And they’d done it in a way that she couldn’t combat with punches and kicks. She centered herself, and subdued the passion in her chest. The air in Nabiki’s room began to cool, until Nabiki began shivering.

“Must your techniques always be this dramatic, Ranma,” said Nabiki, her teeth beginning to chatter.

Focused in the Soul of Ice technique, Ranma began studying the photos. There were about a dozen different shots from two separate days. The first was outdoors, in one of the secluded vales that Ryoga liked to set up camp in. She remembered the place vividly from her own idle musings and dreams. She’d thought often about taking Akane there, away from all the distractions and exploring each other. Looks like some version of her had lived that dream. With the jealousy and anger at their behalf subdued, she took a moment to appreciate the tenderness of the moment. All the worse that this sanctity had been invaded by the camera lens.

The very thing that made the vale so suitable for a private rendezvous also made it so open to voyeurism. The trees and thick shrubbery could conceal a couple or a spy equally well. And its proximity to a major highway would help drown out the sound of someone’s approach.

Still, while obviously distracted by their passions, someone would have to be quite skilled to make the approach. She decided she’d have to see it first hand to learn anymore.

“Tell me, what do you see?” Nabiki whispered.

“I know the place. Always thought it’d be me there. But I guess with hindsight it’s not such a good place after all.”

“Can you take me there? We need to know more.”

“I can.”

“What about the others?”

The second set was even more disturbing. It wasn’t quite as…intimate…as the first. But it had been shot in the Tendo dojo itself. Her Soul of Ice failed, and she turned away. “Here…in the Tendo dojo. If they could get photos unaware there…” she didn’t complete the sentence. A tempest of violation crashed over her.

“See this one is interesting. As far as I know, this one wasn’t for sale. Gosunkugi had a few on him that I was able to nick without him noticing, but it looks like they were either for private use or being kept in reserve. Raises a couple questions, doesn’t it?”

“Why not sell both?”

“Indeed. They could be waiting to bring these out. But they could just as easily get some people to double-dip for the second set, because it shows Akane’s tits much more clearly.”

“Hey!”

“Calm yourself. We’re detectives, and we need to get inside the minds of the people we’re hunting. And these people want to see my sister in all her glory. If we want to crush the people behind this, we’ve got to figure out the pattern.”

Ranma grumbled but nodded along.

“So, you’ve got a better product, or one at least as good. Why do you not sell it?”

Ranma thought for a moment. “While I know too many people who could pull off sneaking into the Tendo dojo to get that shot, it’s a lot shorter list than the ones who could pull off the same in a noisy thicket near an overpass.”

“Exactly. And I’m willing to bet that Voodoo Spike isn’t one of them.”

“So that means Gosunkugi is just the fall guy?”

“Maybe. But either way, withholding suggests that whoever is behind this doesn’t want to know everyone involved.” Nabiki pointed over to a stack of books on photography and optics. “I’ve been doing some light reading. While I can’t be certain, I think that judging by optical distortion that these two sets were taken with different focal lengths, if not different cameras. Probably an expensive camera.”

“I really don’t have a head for mysteries. This is a lot to keep track of.”

“Your job is to help make sure I’m not chasing my tale in a paranoid craze. And to keep me safe.”

Ranma nodded. That was simpler than solving the mystery.

“There’s something else I have to show you. There’s more than just Akane and you who’ve been creeped on.” Nabiki took a deep breath, and then produced another set of photographs.

Ranma blushed as red as her hair. Nabiki presented a series of photographs of her taken in various stages of undress. Some incredibly candid.

“Don’t look at me like that, Ranma. A girl has her needs. And besides, you’re not quite as quiet as you think you are, so don’t go getting all prudish on me.”

Ranma burned with embarrassment. “It’s not that I haven’t tried. Fine, I’ll admit that. It’s just…I’ve never been able to finish. I always get too self-conscious, like someone’s looking down and judging me for doing that as a girl.”

“Poor thing.”

“Please tell me no one else knows!”

“I have a bad habit of sneaking around. I’m pretty certain no one else knows. If they do, they’re not letting on. And while plenty of other people might judge you one way or the other for tying to make it by as you are now, I’ll never be one of them.”

“Anyway! Let’s stop talking about my activities and get back to yours!”

“Indeed. Gosunkugi was holding this one in reserve for blackmail. Supposedly as insurance against retaliation, but I can’t help but smell a rat.”

“Huh?”

“Well they either tripped over the exact right sort of things to truly hurt me, or it was intentional. They targeted my family, deliberately running roughshod over the few lines I’d set for myself, that I would never cross.”

Nabiki had asked her to help guard against getting to paranoid. This was sounding borderline. Ranma searched for a minute for a delicate way to put her vague feeling into words. “Well, I suppose. But you have to admit, when given a taste for your stuff, people would want something more.”

“That’s true. But I went through the timeline of events. Kuno kept himself sequestered most of the morning. His fellow Kendo club members said that something had been eating at him all day. The photos were only starting to circulate later that morning. Someone deliberately introduced them to Kuno first, knowing he’d be a loose cannon.”

“Those cretins. You mean they deliberately tried to kill Akane and me—er him.”

“No, nobody could predict how Kuno would react. They just knew he’d react poorly and make a huge mess. Something that would sit right at my feet.”

“You mean someone is trying to attack you?”

“Yeah. I know it sound self-absorbed and paranoid. And maybe I deserve every bit of it. But they chose to attack me through the people I care about. And that I cannot forgive.”

They had decided to get their terrible work done today, while there was still light out. Tucking away some of the photos, Ranma and Nabiki set out first to the thicket that had started it all. To Ranma’s relief, Ryoga had not happened to make camp in it tonight. He’d been away wandering when this had all unfolded, and Ranma didn’t relish the thought of explaining it to him. Or trying to pretend everything was normal after kissing him.

Nabiki must’ve noticed, because as they trudged through the thick ferns, she remarked. “You seem relieved. I would’ve thought you’d like the chance to work off some steam with Ryoga after this mess.”

“H-how—”

“I have my ways. He’s one of the few people you have an uncomplicated relationship with. I just figured you’d be happy to pound each other until the stress went away.”

Ranma began to blush, imagining an altogether different sort of pounding.

“You dreading telling him about what happened to Akane that much? Or—” Nabiki skidded to a halt. “You’re blushing.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are. Don’t worry, the other you tries to hide it, but he can’t help it. I guess you’ve always had a complicated relationship with him. He is quite shredded. On a purely physical level, I wouldn’t mind a roll in the hay with Ryoga, but he’s rather dull—”

“—Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Fine, fine.”

They walked in silence for the next few minutes. After doubling back twice, Ranma finally homed in on their destination. With shaky fingers, she pulled out one of the photos. Kneeling, she matched the trees and foliage in the background.

Nabiki stood over her, guiding her to the right vantage spot. They found a fallen tree, shrouded in moss, some fifty meters away from where they would have lain. Nabiki pulled a camera from her bag, and began adjusting the telephoto zoom lens. “I think this is the spot,” she said, snapping off a few pictures. “I’ll know for sure when I develop them.”

“I’m guessing that thing is expensive,” said Ranma.

“Very. You couldn’t get those pictures out of anything but a good set of lenses.”

“Not something Gosunkugi would likely have.”

“Indeed. Unless one of his stupid rituals magically summoned him one and the ability to use it, it sounds like he’s just the front guy.”

“Someone everyone expects the worst from.”

“And who has a grudge against you.”

Ranma clenched his fists. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s go pound him—”

“—I didn’t know you felt that way about him.”

“Not that way! I mean, let’s go beat him up until he talks.”

“No. That would tip them off too soon. And he might not talk. He’s tougher than he looks, with how often these things blow up in his face yet he keeps right on trying.”

“Well, what else are we going to do.”

“Boring work. Coming up with lists of suspects, which I’ll need your help with. You know the local martial artists and their abilities. I suspect someone with the requisite stealth skills is involved. But that can wait until tomorrow. I need to see one last thing for myself.”

“What’s that?”

“I need you to take me to where this was taken from.” She handed Ranma a photo. The redhead instantly flushed crimson. “There’s a high vantage point that can look in through my window. I need to find it. I need to know what lengths someone is willing to go for this vendetta.”

There was a flicker of wounded vulnerability on Nabiki’s face. Ranma nodded, and took the former mercenary girl by the hand. It hurt to see Nabiki hurting, and seeing this apparent conspiracy caused her anger to flare up.

They returned to the Tendo residence, stopping outside just under Nabiki’s room. Ranma studied the photo again. “It’s a rather high vantage point,” she said, scanning the horizon.

“I know. And…I’m afraid of heights.”

“Another confession so soon?”

“Yeah. Don’t get too used to it. I need to see it myself. So…you do your roof-hopping thing and I’ll hold on for dear life.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Ranma scooped her up into a bridal carry. Nabiki wrapped an arm around Ranma’s neck and pretended to swoon. “Oh, how romantic.”

“Don’t joke like that. Trust me, this is the best way to do this.”

“I guess this is why you have girls falling into your arms all the time.”

“Eh, not as much as I’d like lately. So, you might want to close your eyes for this part.”

No sooner had Nabiki shut her eyes, she felt an immense kick upwards. On impulse, clawed tightly into Ranma’s skin, eliciting a faint yelp. As quickly as it came, the rush passed. Then the freefall began, and she clawed even tighter. There was a scream, which Nabiki soon realized was her own.

This yo-yoing continued for several minutes. Occasionally, Ranma would stop to check the vantage point. She’d mutter “not high enough”, and continue on her way. Not once did Nabiki open her eyes, or say anything.

The wind whipped around her, and the air chilled her. She held tighter to Ranma for her warmth. Ranma said softly, “I think this is the place. But you’re not going to like it.”

Nabiki cracked open one eye. It was somehow worse than she imagined. Ranma was perched on the top of a radio tower, on a maintenance platform barely big enough to stand flat on. It was a long way down. She knew her mind was playing tricks on her, but she seemed like she was standing atop Babel or some other testament to human arrogance, the ground miles away.

She shut her eyes again. “Ranma…how do you face your fears? Like with cats, you used to run screaming from all of them. But when Shampoo got turned into a cat last week, you didn’t run. You were on edge, and afraid. But you even touched her without passing out.”

“Well, I dunno. It took me forever to get that far. Part of it was it being Shampoo helped some. But part of it has been learning to accept being afraid, and not fighting it. Just, not letting it control me.”

It was worth a shot. She had a job to do. Anyway. “Ranma, set me down on the platform.”

The steel was cold against her jean shorts. She found herself grabbing hold of the grating. Ranma’s hand never left her arm as the redhead sat down next to her. Nabiki opened her eyes. Her heart began to pound. But her eyes stayed open.

“So, what do you think?” Ranma asked.

“I can see my house from here,” said Nabiki. Ranma snickered, and she laughed too. Some of the fear subsided. “So this is the place.”

“Yeah. They went through a lot of trouble to get blackmail on you. Someone sat up here for hours, just waiting to catch a glimpse of something through your window.”

“Confirms what I already know.” Nabiki said, nodding sagely. “I’m going to have to get some blinds.”

The sun was starting to slip below the horizon. The clouds glowed orange in the twilight. For right now, Tendo Nabiki was on top of the world. No one could touch her.

“Should I get you down now?”

Nabiki scooted closer. “You’re like a space heater. Let’s stay…for a little while.”

They stayed until night claimed the sun, and the vast expanse of Tokyo turned into a shimmering sea of stars.

Chapter Text

Ran-chan always hated hospitals. The sterile air felt dead. The overpowering stench of disinfectants made her nose wrinkle in disgust. Rolling her eyes as the nurse made an innocent comment about her being "a dutiful sister visiting her brother," she soldiered on down the labyrinth of corridors to her male half's room. The faux inviting colors, warm tan paint and cool blue carpet, had been rolled off the assembly line in pre-fab hell.

His door was open. She knocked once on the door frame before entering; she was treated to the sight of Akane and his other half locking lips. The love of her life sensed the intrusion, hackles raising in alarm. The tomboy broke the kiss, but thin line of saliva trailed between them.

"Gross," said Ran-chan.

The boy shook his head. "Don't lie to yourself."

Akane, at least, seemed a little embarrassed. Something ugly in her almost liked seeing the look of guilt on the tomboy's face. That wouldn't tip the scales of fate, and at any rate the rest of her felt ashamed of that impulse. "Um, wasn't looking to interrupt anything. Didn't figure you'd be here, Akane."

"It's alright," said Akane, straightening out the wrinkles in her shirt. "I'm already late as it is. I'll leave you to it."

There was that smile that made it impossible to stay mad at her. "I, uhh, like your outfit."

"You should; I borrowed them from you," said the tomboy with a smirk. In that momentary lapse of blushing embarrassment, Akane slipped close and planted a kiss on her lips. She sensed the indecision behind those lips, souring the otherwise sweet taste of Akane's lip gloss. "See you, Ran-chan."

Ran-chan stood motionless. It was only now dawning on her just what sort of complicated she was getting herself into. She didn't have time to dwell on it.

"Ran-chan?" said her other half.

She shrugged. "It fits, given I'm half the man I used to be."

"So…about that kiss…"

"You and I both know we've put Akane in an impossible position. I've probably been a bit selfish. You and I both know we feel the same way about her. Would you really give her up without a fight if the tables were turned?"

"I suppose not. Can't say I'm not jealous. But then again, I suppose I've got no room to complain about this."

"We're both learning then."

BoyRanma laughed. "That's because we're the best."

"Except maybe at humility. But we'll get that problem beaten soon too." Ran-chan pulled a chair across from him. "I brought you some clothes; you look ridiculous in that hospital gown."

"Thanks. I should be out in no-time. I already feel fit as a fiddle, jus' these doctors want to keep me here for 'observation', whatever that means."

"Prolly wanna figure out why we heal so fast."

The tense silence reminded Ran-chan why she hated smalltalk. It was the worst with him, because there was so much that just didn't have to be said. Or shouldn't have to be. "So…there's something you should probably know about."

"Is it about that cretin Gosunkugi? I can't believe I used to pity him. I'll get him…unless you've already taken care of that."

Ran-chan sighed. "It's more complicated than that. Nabiki thinks he wasn't acting alone, and I believe her. And that someone deliberately showed those photos to Kuno to goad him into doing something stupid. Probably to cause a mess and lay the blame at Nabiki's feet given her reputation."

"And you're sure she's not just pulling the wool over your eyes to escape fault?"

"This is going to sound crazy, but I trust her. I've seen the agony this has put her through. I think she can change. We're going to find who did this." And kill them, she silently added, surprising herself with the conviction behind it.

He puzzled over what she said, absentmindedly tugging at the loose threads of his hospital blanket. "I believe you. She's definitely smarter than us, and in spite of everything, I know she loves her sister."

"I'm glad. Don't worry about it right now though."

"So what's this I hear about you and Ryoga?" boyRanma said, twiddling his fingers, "I mean, we've never had a shortage of rumors…"

She flushed as red as her hair. "Ah, well—"

"So it's true!"

"What…have you heard?"

"That your dating the pig, at the very least."

"No, I'm not. Though, not for lack of trying."

"Criminy, the curse has gone to your brain!"

"Oh shut up. You and I both know that ain't true. And look deep into yourself and be honest: we thought he was beautiful even before we went to Jusenkyo."

"It was middle school! They were…confusing…times."

"I found the answer then. You can too. And I'll never judge you for it."

"So are you like in love with him?"

"Oh hell no! Not that way. It's just…he's a friend, and he's trustworthy, doesn't judge me for trying to cope with what I've got left. And he's fucking gorgeous. I'm wasn't looking for Mr. Right, just Mr. Right-now. But he can't see me as anything other than a guy, and some stupid part of me can't help but like him more for thinking that of me."

"Did you rehearse that?"

"Yes, I did actually. I've been having to justify myself to a lot of people, so I've been getting a lot of practice."

He'd hidden it well, but there was a twinge of relief on boyRanma's face. She smiled when she saw it, and for a moment all the resentment and self-loathing she felt vanished. She moved next to boyRanma and wrapped her arm around his shoulders.

He froze as she touched him. After a moment of trepidation, he melted into her hug. He rested his head on her shoulder, the tension draining from his body. "I'm sorry for being such an ass," he whispered.

"I'm sorry for being such a bitch," said the redhead, hugging him tighter. In this moment, she remembered what it was to be whole. "It's hard, living in your shadow. I think I understand something of what Ryoga felt, nursing that grudge all these years. And maybe someday I won't be in your shadow, and we can relate to each other as equals. I do love you, but I also hate you a bit. Which, honestly, isn't any different from how I feel about myself."

"Couldn't have said it better."

It had been really hard to get back into the swing of things at school after a week of freedom. When Ran-chan sat down in homeroom on Monday morning, she could feel the tension thick in the air. She felt the eyes staring at her, the oppressive feeling of unasked questions waiting. There were rumors spreading again, and she didn't like this one bit.

Hiroshi slumped down next to her. It was more than just not wanting to be in class; he let out a heavy sigh as he leafed through his notebook.

"Uh, what gives Hiro? Last time we talked you were high on the hog over your date."

The mask of indifference cracked, revealing the morose boy underneath. "She's great and she wants to see more of me, but I just know when she finds out how big of a dork I am I'll be finished."

"I'm pretty sure she already knows."

"Urk. I'm finished…"

"Oy, don't you give up just yet. She wants a second date. You've already passed the hard part."

When lunch came, Ran-chan tried to eat with Akane. But she was spending time with boyRanma again. Now that they weren't being so discreet about things, it was getting harder and harder to get any alone time with her. When he was in recovery, it was understandable. But it didn't stop when he left the hospital.

So instead she found Nabiki sitting under a lonely tree and plopped down uninvited next to her. Nabiki's lunch seemed half-forgotten next to her as she flipped through a pocket notebook. "Any breakthroughs?" asked Ran-chan in between bites.

"Not as many as I'd liked. I'd probably make more if I hadn't had to spend all morning being treated like I do compensated dating. Whoever's behind this knows what buttons to push."

"Anything I can do?"

"Well, you could cash in on your friendship with Ukyo. See if she could get Konatsu to do some of his kunoichi stuff on Voodoo Spike. You know, break into his house, look for clues."

"I think I can work that out."

Nabiki put aside her notes and gave her bento some much needed attention. "So, what's eating you, Ranma?"

Ran-chan suppressed the urge to give a pointed denial. "What makes you think that something is bothering me?"

"You're spending time with your least favorite Tendo sister rather than Akane. You're probably trying to distract yourself from that by turning your attention towards an enemy you can fight."

"Okay fine, you got me. It's just getting harder to find any alone time with Akane."

"That's not the whole story is it?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You have some obvious tells when you're trying to hide things. You avoid eye contact, or you get nervous and start playing with your hair. Like you're doing right now."

She hadn't even noticed she'd been playing with the end of her pigtail until Nabiki pointed it out to her. Having been read like a book, she decided to just give in lest the mercenary girl resort to blackmail to get what she wanted. "Okay, promise not to tell?"

"Pinky swear."

After completing the sacred ritual, Ran-chan took a deep breath. "Okay…Akane has been trying to not just write me off. She says she doesn't want to break my heart, and I think she means well. But I don't think she can love me the same as she loves him. I'm…I'm afraid."

Nabiki blinked and shifted towards her. "Welp, This is a little out of my wheelhouse, I'm afraid. I'm more of the practical problems kind of girl. But I'll listen. I owe you at least that much." Nabiki slurped at her juice can pensively. "How do you know?"

The redhead flitted her eyes back and forth. When Nabiki's stare didn't relent, she shrugged, "It just seems like she doesn't have time for me anymore. She's always spending time with him. And just when I'm getting to the point where I'm not feeling so resentful of him, this happens. And I can't exactly blame him, cuz if the situations were reversed I'd be monopolizing her time too."

Nabiki blanched, unprepared for the deluge of earnest human feeling. "I'm really out of my wheelhouse," she muttered into her juice can.

"You don't gotta fix things. Sometimes…sometimes I just want someone to listen so I don't gotta keep it all bottled up inside."

Nabiki looked at her like she was some puzzle to solve. "Well I can do that at least."

Nabiki spent the rest of her afternoon reflecting on Sun Tzu's maxim that "all warfare is based upon deception." With classes slowly easing their way back into a normal pace, and the ever manic Principal Kuno now on a leave of absence, it left the girl plenty of time to think.

On the surface, it seemed like an open and shut case. But that's where all good detective stories begin. Most people thought the worst of both Nabiki and Gosunkugi Hikaru already. Two associates engaged in the illicit trade of voyeur shots, now feuding over a disagreement seemed all too plausible. And from the whispers, she could tell a lot of students just plain believed she sold her own sister out.

It's not like I haven't before, Nabiki thought. Self-reflection was bitter, like ashes in her mouth. The taste wouldn't go away.

She briefly wondered if she was chasing ghosts. The crazy-person corkboard up in her room wasn't helping in her defense. And some small part of her, which sounded eerily like her long-withered conscience creaking back to life, told her that all this talk of conspiracy was just another way for her to avoid responsibility.

The final bell rang. One thing can be two things. There is a conspiracy here, and it's one that I'm ultimately responsible for.

Nabiki trudged home, brushing off Ranma's invitation to walk home together. She needed to be alone with her guilt right now. Her notes felt like lead in her pocket, as her thoughts crept towards two names she'd circled in red-ink.

Kenzan Konatsu. And Sarugakure Sasuke. The two people who Ranma had said were capable of infiltrating the dojo undetected and getting those creep shots.

Nabiki had chosen not to share her thoughts with Ranma. It was clear from the nonchalant way Ranma had told her that the redhead didn't think that either were capable of such depravity. Poor naïve girl pitied the both of them and didn't seem to understand the lengths to which someone would go for revenge—and she'd had a rival willing to chase him/her round the Straits of Tsushima, round the Naruto Maelstrom, and round Perdition's flames over a feud about bread.

Nabiki felt a little guilty laying a trap for one or the both, using Ranma as her catspaw. She'd make sure she'd be there when Ranma asked her favor. For moral support, of course. She'd see for herself if Ranma's trust was well placed. And if it isn't, I'll destroy them. She came to halt, surprised by her own conviction.

It was time to put this matter aside, she decided, lest her small heart grow another size today. Lucky for her, her father was waiting when she crossed the threshold, bursting at the seams to with the "good news." Apparently, the Saotomes were coming over for dinner tonight. It'd be just one giant mess of awkwardness to distract her.

Nabiki shut herself in her room, trying to busy herself to ignore the board-of-crazy above her desk. She got a little further into a spy novel before her thoughts turned back to the Conspiracy. Groaning, she tossed the dog-eared paperback aside. "I'm sorry, Smiley-san," she thought aloud, "but you're not helping me forget. We'll just have to find the mole in the Circus some other—"

Her brain ground to a halt. Who else would have the skill, the resources, and the intel to so perfectly thwart you but one of your own? Nabiki pounded her fists into her bed. Before she could beat herself up about being betrayed, she heard Kasumi calling for her to come to dinner.

It was probably for the best. She needed to take a break from this anyway. But before she trudged downstairs, she pinned one more notecard up on her board-of-crazy: the Roman numerals XX.

Dinner with the soon-to-be extended family was somehow even more tense than even Nabiki expected. Soun and Genma managed to fill most of it with their conversation about the bad old days, but the air remained thick. BoyRanma sat next to his mother, embarrassed as she continued to dote on him like an invalid. But try as he might to tell Nodoka that he was mostly healed, his mother seemed to relish in getting baby him one more time.

"Come-on mom, I'm just a bit stiff on that side, I'll be good as new before ya know it," he cried.

GirlRanma seemed to delight in his embarrassment. "Come on now, take your medicine like a big damn hero."

"Language dear," tutted Nodoka. "But I'm afraid your…sister…is right. If you didn't worry your poor mother so with your heroics, I wouldn't feel this overpowering urge to nurse you back to health."

"All I'm sayin', ma, is that I can feed myself," he said.

"Yes, and I'm very proud of how grown up you are," said Nodoka. She pincered another morsel of fish with her chopsticks. "Now open up for the airplane, dear."

"I'm going to die of—" boyRanma was cut off by his mother stuffing the fish in his mouth. He chewed reluctantly.

Akane sat on the boy's other side. She ate quietly, but her gaze kept turning dreamily toward him. It hadn't gone unnoticed by girlRanma. Her face would screw up momentarily, then she'd needle him again.

Well damn, thought Nabiki. Her overdeveloped scheming centers in her brain started churning before she slammed on the breaks. The last thing you need is a hard-luck case to pity.

When the first course was finished, her father chose to use the lull to make an announcement. Clearing his throat, "So, Saotome and I have been talking, and we feel after the recent events it was time to move forward with uniting the schools."

The chorus of "what" was almost deafening. Genma interjected, "I'm sure you're thinking we want to move forward with a wedding, and I can tell you that's not the case. Tendo and I both agree that this would be unnecessary and probably a mistake."

Understatement of the century. Nabiki still hadn't quite lived down the part she played in the disaster that was the forced wedding attempt after Jusendo. A small part of her told her that whatever her motives were at the time, it had been right to sabotage that wedding. But that was cold comfort.

Nodoka chose to pipe in, "We've been discussing this, and your fathers both have concluded that they've been neglecting in the teaching part of the School with both of you." She meant well, Nabiki was sure. But her choice of words, and the fact that she was gazing intently at boyRanma and Akane had left no room for doubt.

Nabiki sensed girlRanma bristling next to her. In a momentary impulse of humanity, Nabiki grabbed the girl's hand under the table, squeezing reassuringly. The girl sighed heavily and squeezed her hand back.

Soun struck a match and lit the cigarette clenched in his lips. Taking a long drag as he waved out the match, he jetted smoke from his nose. "We've decided to take the two of you on a training trip once summer break begins. I will instruct Ranma in the Tendo-ryu of Anything-Goes. Saotome will teach Akane his own school."

It had gone a long way to cutting the tension in the room. Even Kasumi had glared at her father when he'd dropped the bomb. Akane was ecstatic at the thought of being treated as an equal, and boyRanma seemed to relax.

But girlRanma slumped her shoulders and stared into her teacup. She'd been sparring with Akane regularly since the calamity. She tried to hide it, but Nabiki could see the desperation in girlRanma's eyes, the unspoken vow that something like that would never happen again. And now amid all this talk about the future of the School of Anything-Goes kenpo, there hadn't been any thought about what place she had in it—if any. The practical part of Nabiki's brain told her its not like they'd disinherit the girl. But the long neglected human part of her soul told her that didn't matter, that thoughtlessness was the sharpest knife.

Ranma had always been stoic. Nabiki would at least for now respect the girl's wishes to not make a scene of it, to help hide the hurt she was feeling. Nabiki desperately wanted to hug her and tell her it would be okay. But not right now. That would come later, when the only one Ranma would have to hide it from was herself. Wanting to comfort her should have been an alien feeling. Or maybe Nabiki was remembering what it was to be human.

The prattling on about the details and logistics of this went in one ear and out the other. Nabiki held the girl's hand and remembered the details for her.

One week later

Akane gritted her teeth as she slowly pulled herself to her feet. The pain was rippling through her body, but she refused to give in just yet. Her gi was soaked with sweat and her body bruised. She hadn't ever felt this level of pain in training before.

But as she steadied herself, putting her guard as she faced that panting redhead, she decided it was a good pain.

"Akane, you don't got nothing to prove," said Ran-chan.

Yes I do, she said to herself. Reaching deep within, Akane gathered up all the strength she had left, and began her final attack. She couldn't match Ran-chan in speed or technique, at least not yet. But she had finally got fast enough that Ran-chan couldn't just avoid her attacks. She doubled down on her strength, and made sure each parry stung, every block hurt, and any hit left a dent.

With a loud kiai, Akane launched at full tilt. Ran-chan tried to avoid the charge, but she corrected just in time. After a quick feint, Akane threw her weight behind a powerful cross. The redhead parried, but Akane countered quick enough to prevent her from clinching, stepping in to follow up the cross with an elbow slash.

They traded punches in quick succession. Ran-chan kept fighting for space with quick foot jabs. Each blow to her shins and calves stung. But that was just the distraction. The real blow was still yet to come, and this time Akane was determined to endure it. She strained to watch her opponent's footwork, not daring to lower her eyes for more than an instant. She'd learned that lesson the hard way too many times.

This time, she saw it coming. The ever so slight shifting of Ran-chan's weight was a portent of the pain to come. She just barely blocked that devastating knee strike this time, shifting to the left and guarding her stomach with her arm. Somehow, her next cross connected to Ran-chan's shoulder, sending her sliding across the dojo barely keeping her balance.

A small chuckle emanated from her lips. Akane could barely stand, and her right arm was numb, but she'd gotten a good hit on her teacher.

"Owowow," said Ran-chan, sucking in air. "That smarts."

Maybe they'll start taking me seriously now, she said to herself, smiling through the pain.

"Well…you did good, Akane. Just don't expect me to get all gushy about it," said the redhead. She put on that tsundere act pretty well, but Akane could still see the smile of pride on her face. "Come on, let's go get cleaned up."

As they left the dojo, they could already smell Kasumi's cooking. "We'll have to be quick, I think dinner is almost ready," said Akane.

Ran-chan nodded silently. After quickly changing out of their gis and washing up, they dressed. Well, Akane dressed; she could scarcely call that singlet and shorts that Ranma wore being dressed.

They devoured Kasumi's cooking in record time, scarcely pausing in between bites for the usual Tendo dinner table banter.

Nabiki sat pensively in her orange cut-out shoulder shirt and jean shorts. "You really worked up an appetite, Sis," she remarked over her tea cup.

Akane felt the warmth rising in her cheeks. "Ah, well, we've been training really hard, and it's starting to pay off finally. Ranma has been helping me with my form and technique, and Ran-chan has been pushing me to my limit in matches."

"Two Ranmas training you? Honey, I would've thought you would have thought of a more imaginative use of their talents."

Ran-chan choked on some noodles. Akane's own face was burning following the cavalcade of taboo thoughts Nabiki had so expertly provoked. "Nabiki, cut it out!"

"It's a good thing Father is out, Nabiki-dear," Kasumi said sweetly.

"Don't say things like that Nabiki," Ran-chan growled.

"You guys are no fun," said Nabiki. It sounded almost like pouting to Akane's ears.

"Things are a bit…complicated. You don't need to stir the pot just because it amuses you," said Akane.

Kasumi quietly excused herself, muttering about getting a head start on the dishes. A pregnant silence settled over the room. Ran-chan nibbled at a riceball while Akane squirmed under Nabiki's gaze. She didn't know how to explain herself to her mercenary sister when she didn't even understand why she had said the things she said. At least the feminine reflection of her fiancé hadn't brought it up again.

"Is this about you promising to consider the harem solution to your little love triangle problem?" said Nabiki.

"Oy, you promised!" cried Ran-chan

"You told my sister?" said Akane. She filled to the brim with a cocktail of anger and embarrassment. Her fists clenched involuntarily as her eyes burned holes in the redhead's flustered face.

Nabiki finished her tea with a sigh. "Oh quit the dramatics, I would've found out eventually. Besides, you still haven't told the other guy about this. I guess that's something to talk about on your date tonight."

You bitch, Akane said to herself.

Now it was Ran-chan's turn to glare at her. "Why didn't you tell me?" demanded the redhead.

"I didn't want to upset you," she replied.

It was the truth. She didn't feel like she was set free by it. Ran-chan's rising anger felt like chains weighing her down. "What, am I some little fragile porcelain doll you have to protect?"

"That's not what I meant. You've been through a lot."

"So what, you're just going to keep avoiding me except when we're training?" said Ran-chan.

"I have not been avoiding you," she replied, feeling indignation well up within her like bitter tears.

"Every time I try to just spend time with you, you're too busy. Or you're not around," Ran-chan said with a huff, "It wasn't even about trying to still be your fiancé…just your friend. But you're too busy for that."

"That's not true."

"Kind of is, Sis. You've been spending a lot of time with boyRanma," Nabiki chimed in.

"Butt out," Akane growled, "things are just difficult right now."

Ran-chan got up and began walking towards the kitchen. "No, it sounds like I'm the difficulty. I didn't ask for any of this, Akane."

"Don't you walk away from me," said Akane.

"I'm going to help Kasumi with the dishes and give you time to chill out."

"I do not need to chill out!" Akane said forcefully.

Nabiki winced and rubbed her ears. "Yikes, no need to yell, Sis."

Akane didn't remember getting up from the table. But she found herself standing behind Ran-chan, her arm gripping the redhead's shoulder tightly. "Face me like a man."

Ran-chan spun on her heel and glared at her with teeth clenched. "Fine then…if we're going to fight about who isn't being manly"—the redhead suddenly got up in Akane's face, a wordless preface to a challenge—"then take me upstairs and make a woman out of me."

"What?"

"You heard me. Time to put up or shut up, Akane. Either fuck me or don't, just stop stringing me along."

"It isn't that simple Ran-chan. Don't say such indecent things."

"Ah, but it's not indecent when it's with him?"

"It's different with Ranma. It's different than when it's two girls."

Like it had been in a thousand arguments before, the words were not having their intended effect. Ran-chan was just getting angrier. And every cutting word they both spoke left its verbal wounds. "So I don't even get to be Ranma anymore then? I'm just one half of what I used to be to you."

"That's not what I meant," Akane protested.

"Oh yeah? Maybe you just like him more than me?"

"Maybe I do," shouted Akane.

The hard look on Ran-chan's face broke. The stoic mask of thinly concealed pain replaced it as the redhead recoiled, stepping back in shock. Her words had brought the Tendo house to an eerie silence. Like a decree chiseled in stone, they could not be undone.

Even Nabiki sat in remorseful silence. The mercenary girl's eyes were strangely judgmental. Akane could not bear to look at her. "I should go," she said flatly.

After Akane's words had pierced her heart, time escaped Ranma. She didn't know how much time had passed, or any memory of retreating from the dining area to the Tendo guest bedroom. She lay on her futon staring blankly at the ceiling, numb to the world. Rain hammered on the roof. Thunder crashed in the distance. Memories of wet, lonely nights on the road percolated up. The dread and terror felt by a little boy in a very big world came with them.

The void of timeless oblivion crumbled against the sound of bare feet pattering on lacquered wood. The door to her room slid open, and the footsteps came closer. She heard a body lying down on the mats beside her.

"You okay, Ranma?" Nabiki asked.

She heard herself say, "I've been better."

"Well, that certainly did not turn out like I planned."

Ranma rolled over on her side. She propped her head up as she stared inquisitively at the brown-haired girl. Nabiki's eyes were slightly puffy, like she'd been crying. She was placidly staring at the ceiling, twiddling her thumbs on her belly.

"How did you imagine that one ending?"

"I was only half-joking when I brought up the harem solution, Ranma."

"That word is so…crass."

"Whatever. You two weren't talking, Not really, anyway. You weren't telling each other what you were really feeling, keeping secrets from each other. I figured I could nudge things in the right direction. I guess I'm just not as clever as I thought I was."

Ranma chewed over Nabiki's confession for a minute. "I want to be angry with you. But I can't really feel much of anything right now. I've been living on borrowed hope for too long."

"Well I was rooting for you, kiddo. If it's any consolation I like you more than the other guy."

"It isn't but thanks I guess. I mean, I appreciate what you're saying, but it's not making the heartache go away."

The room was silent but for the pounding tempest outside. The silence steadily grew oppressive. "Nabiki…what do you do when you can't do nothing, but there's nothing you can do?"

"I wish I knew. Everything in me tells me to scheme, strategize, trick, or otherwise bamboozle my way out of a problem. But that'd be worse than useless. So I'll do all I can: listen. Were I your average teenage girl I'd tell you to hold onto hope. Or some stupid shit about 'moving on,' as though all it took was shifting your heart into first gear to leave it all behind."

The redhead tried to ignore the clenching feeling in her heart. Nabiki was right, she'd been castaway in stormy seas now. The storm didn't care whether she was called Ranma, Ran-chan, Ranko, or anything else. Right now she felt tiny, less than half the man she used to be. The remainder of an unbalanced equation.

She didn't have much time to ponder it. Another set of footsteps approached. She felt who they belonged to. Her body became a coiled spring of tension as she shot to her feet.

Akane was standing in the open doorway. She tried to ignore the lines of mascara on the tomboy's cheeks, and when that failed she reached deep for the resentment that Akane was dolling herself up for him.

To Ranma's surprise, Nabiki spoke first. "You should go, Akane."

"I need to talk to her."

"I think we've talked quite enough," hissed Ranma.

"Would you just—"

"No, I will not. I don't know what's left between us anymore, but if you don't leave now then there's not going to be anything left."

"I'm sorry—"

"Oh, you're sorry, oh my mistake then. It's all better now. Take a hike." Ranma turned to the window. The storm seemed more inviting.

"I'm not leaving until we talk about—"

"Then I am!" Snarling, Ranma threw up the sash and leapt out into the pounding rain.

Akane braved the whipping winds to chase after her. Heedless of the danger, Ranma fled as fast as her legs would carry her. The wet asphalt shingles were slick under her bare feet as she jumped from roof to roof, dreading each landing. Her luck seemed to be holding for now.

Akane did not relent, and Ranma regretted teaching her how to roof-hop. She turned into the wind, leaping as fast as her legs would carry her. She left a wake of overturned garbage bins, smashed car roofs and shattered windows as Akane chased her through the neighborhood.

Their winding path of destruction took them to Furinkan High, the fulcrum of the madness in her life. Soaking wet, chilled to the bone, with only the fury in her heart to warm her, Ranma chose to end the chase. She skidded to halt in front of the P.E. supply building, fists clenched at her sides.

Akane landed behind her. Panting, she said, "Are you going to talk to me now?"

"Fine! Let's just get this over with." Lightning cracked the night sky. A shiver of primordial fear came over her. The door opened with a bit of coaxing. "Maybe not outside though."

The shivering wasn't just fear. Akane's lips were blue as she trembled in her soaked clothes as well. It tempered Ranma's anger. She cut off Akane when she was about to start: "Gimme a sec."

After rummaging around the shed, she found some blankets. Akane was cold enough she didn't protest or need to be told twice to strip out of her clothes. Stripped down to their skivvies, they slumped down on a pile of gym mats, rolled up like sushi in their blankets.

The meter of distance between their bodies felt right. "Okay, you can start now," said Ranma. Her hard tone felt forced.

"I'm sorry, Ranma."

"You keep saying that. But that doesn't make being strung along any better."

She'd expected Akane to be just as angry. It surprised her when the tomboy remained demure. Akane averted her eyes, speaking barely loud enough to be heard above the raining pounding on the tin roof. "I wasn't trying to. And I know that doesn't make it hurt less."

"Okay…then why?"

"Because I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"Ranma, what did you feel when you first realized you were attracted to Ryoga?"

"What's that got to—"

"—please, just answer it."

"Ooohkay. I felt embarrassed. It was middle school and I was just starting to notice girls were a thing. Pop told me to not get tied down by such things, and focus on the art. Then along comes this boy who makes me feel weird, and I wonder if it's because it's an all boy's school or if Pop's screwed me up again with his training."

"But it didn't go away."

"No. The curse gave me an alibi, but it only made it worse. And when I'd play a game of pretend and fool him, I couldn't help but like the way his attention made me feel. It felt…similar…to how you, Ucchan or Shampoo made me feel when you got dere-dere. The feeling didn't go away, when I changed back."

Akane sighed. "When you first showed up at my door, I was relieved I wasn't being pushed into being engaged to a boy. It was the last thing I needed in my life. You were sweet, you loved martial arts, and you made my heart flutter."

It started to dawn on Ranma the point Akane was trying to make.

Akane slid closer. Her bare thigh brushed up against Ranma's. "I started wondering if daddy would pretend that nothing was wrong and just try to push ahead engaging two girls together. And while I didn't really know you yet, it wasn't an…unpleasant idea. Then I remembered all the insinuations that other girls made about me, and I wondered if there was something wrong with me."

"There wasn't anything wrong with you," Ranma offered.

"Maybe. When you turned out to be a boy, I remembered what every boy I'd known had wanted from me, it almost broke my heart. But you turned out to be okay. More than okay. I tried to tell myself when we had little romantic moments when you were in your girl form that it was okay just because it was you. Not that I could ever admit that to you."

Ranma stared blankly at her. Akane looked up at her, half-hurt, half-smiling.

"The closer we got, the harder it was. There was something wrong with me. And I blamed you for it. Called you a pervert, because deep down, I knew I was the real pervert."

"What…no! You're not a pervert!"

"And neither are you. I've just spent way too long lying to you and myself about how I feel. I could be honest with him because that's just the way things are supposed to be right? Girls are supposed to like boys. But the boy I like is a girl too. And my obscene secret is that I liked the girl just as much as the boy. And now they're two people, and I can't face you because I'm the reason why you're living in his shadow. All because I couldn't tell you how I felt, that I loved you more than life itself, that I was just as attracted to the girl part of you as the boy part."

The tears started streaming down Akane's face. Her sobs stilled when Ranma began gently wiping the tears from her cheek. "Akane, my life might be a mistake. But it's still mine. I'm right here now, alive, and I don't regret existing. All of the hurt I've felt, whoever's fault it is, it's mine. It means I'm alive and I'm real."

It wasn't surprising that they kissed. What was surprising, though, was that Akane initiated it. Her blanket fell from her shoulders as she pulled the redhead's lips to hers. She tasted tears on Ranma's lips, spurring her onwards. The eon of repression, denial and negation melted away as she kissed the stunned girl.

The shock was momentary. Ranma pulled Akane closer, her fingers entwining with wet hair. When they came up for air, her lips felt bruised by the intensity. The tears kept coming though. Akane kissed the tears from her cheeks.

Before she knew it, the redhead was flat on her back. Akane's weight pressed down pleasantly on her as the tomboy kissed her lips and sucked at the sensitive skin on her neck. Their bodies fit together like a dream she wished would never end. On pure instinct, she wrapped her legs around Akane, trapping her tightly between her thighs. She wasn't going to escape this time.

The year of tension dissolved as their fingers intertwined. The masculine voice in her head urging her to take charge shut himself up. Right now, the committee in her head was content to be led wherever. The shivers intensified; whether it was release or the cold, she couldn't say. Their tongues mingled in the next deep kiss. After gasping for breath, Akane dove back in for another, smothering her lips in another kiss. When the tomboy nibbled at her earlobe and hummed into the delicate skin, Ranma scared herself with the purr coming from her lips.

The remaining clothing was discarded soon after. Akane's finger's were gentle on her, but just insistent enough to draw a panting moan from Ranma. The rush, like everything in the universe and total oblivion all at once, overwhelmed her. Any thoughts of it being unmanly or improper were completely forgotten. Ranma muffled her cries by biting into Akane's neck.

There was tranquility after the storm. They lay cuddled together, utterly content. For a fleeting moment, she felt whole again. Ranma returned the favor as best she could, but her efforts were clumsy from lack of familiarity. If Akane minded, she didn't let it show. She patiently guided Ranma's efforts to their completion, and clang to the redhead for dear life as she contemplated life, the universe and everything.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17: A Carol for the Lonely

Ryoga didn’t like to think of himself as particularly superstitious; but he knew an omen when he saw one. His journey had taken him to a small grotto wreathed around an ornate public fountain. It reminded him of those roadside curio wishing wells he’d come across on his wanderings. Fumbling, he found a few small coins in his pocket.

18 yen…not enough to be worth keeping. But it was all the pocket change he had. He pursed his lips pensively, then cast the coins into the fountain. He clapped his hands together and wondered what to ask of the spirit of this fountain.

I don’t know who I’m asking, and whoever it is I probably don’t deserve your help. But please, help me do the right thing, no matter how hard it is, he said silently. The trees rustled in the wind. The park remained empty and quiet. Shrugging his shoulders, Ryoga said his thanks.

Ryoga glumly trudged forward, watching the morning sun rise low on the horizon. Hiroshima reminded him of home; the trees and canals stirred up aching memories of Nerima as he wandered. He shoved those thoughts aside. If I just keep heading west, I should be able to make it to Osaka by sundown.

He’d had dinner at Ucchan’s Sapporo branch last night. That girl sure travelled a lot for her business. She had taken pity on him, giving him one of the super deluxes (minus pork) on the house. It had been delicious, but he hadn’t eaten since. His stomach protested, but right now he felt like he deserved the punishment. Ukyo had caught him up on the most recent happenings. The knot of worry in his chest hadn’t receded.

He had continued to keep a terrible secret from Akane. Hearing how her life had been threatened had lit a fire under him. I have to tell her. No matter what. If I don’t, then I really am a pig.

That fire had sustained him during the night’s long march. It was just embers now, but he carefully stoked them, putting one weary foot in front of the other.

At around noon, the exhaustion overtook him. He fell on hard pavement. So weary, so alone. Japan was so huge and he was so lost he might as well have been on the moon. Here was the journey’s end, leagues away from his destination.

Her voice cut through the black funk in his head like a razor. “Oh hey Ryoga,” Akane chirped. “Whacha doin’ lyin’ in the road in front of my house?”

The lost boy turned over to see Akane, decked out in spandex and legwarmers, panting lightly as she jogged in place. Providence smiled down at him. “Oh, you know, just resting a bit,” he said, laughing uneasily.

“Well get up, silly. I’m glad to see you back in the neighborhood. P-chan’s been gone too, so I haven’t had anyone to talk to about the rough patch I’ve been going through with Ranma. Both Ranmas, actually.”

His breath hitched with the talk of ‘P-chan’, and he remembered why he needed to be here. He found strength he didn’t know he had and sprung to his feet. “Akane…I.”

She beamed at him. “Yes Ryoga?”

“There’s something I have to tell you. It’s something that I’ve been shamefully keeping a secret for too long. And if I don’t do it now, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Akane patted him on the shoulder. “Oh silly, I already know.”

Oh no, I’m a dead man, he said to himself. Those Tendo girls didn’t play around when it came to vengeance. She was just waiting for him to trip up and real himself. Or maybe Ranma ratted him out, that cur!

“I mean, it took me a while. Ranma thought I was a bit thick for not realizing it sooner, but I don’t have a lot of experience in those things.”

Well she hadn’t killed him yet. So Ryoga stood there, sweating bullets.

“But I guess it was obvious, really. The way you acted, how jealous Ranma got. Ryoga, I don’t hate you for having a crush on me, so let your heart go free and unburdened.”

Ryoga picked himself back up, his thumping heart slowing down. “Um, that wasn’t the secret I had in mind…but you knew?”

“Yup. It was during the wedding disaster when I finally put two and two together.”

If you’re going to retreat, Hibiki, you’ve got your chance, said Ryoga’s traitorous inner voice. “That’s a mild relief, but like I said, that wasn’t the secret I was ashamed of.”

“Oh? What else could there be? Wait, is Nabiki compensated-dating you? If she is, I’ll kill her! She shouldn’t play with your fragile glass heart. Or was she blackmailing you about something else? I know she’s trying to turn over a new leaf—”

“—I’m P-chan!” he erupted. He’d felt the words building in him, as he searched for a better way to let it out. But it was no use. It had to be said, and there would be no way to soften the blow.

“Uwah?”

“P-chan, your pet pig…that’s my Jusenkyo curse. I’ve been hiding it from you out of shame. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I am sorry.”

Akane’s face was blank, but he could see the gears whirring internally as she processed it. As the seconds ticked away, the dread mounted. He prepared for retribution that would never come. “I’m disgusted,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

Akane jogged off. The first few strides were like nothing had happened. But then she broke out into a flat-out sprint, to put as much distance between herself and her betrayer.

He wandered away, wishing the world would disappear. Or maybe he’d find a nice hole to crawl into and die. Either way, he’d leave it all miles away behind him. It was nearing nightfall when the rolling thunder woke him from his trance. He could feel the first few drops strike his clothes, but he no longer cared.

He heard Ranma cry “Oi, Ryoga! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He turned to find the redhead running up to him. She looked relieved to see him. She still punched him square in the shoulder, hard enough to make his hand numb and tingly. “Oh…Ranma,” said Ryoga.

“Jeesh, I get home and Kasumi-chan says I need to run off looking for you. It scared me, they wouldn’t explain why, just said I needed to find you.”

“Oh. It’s probably because I told Akane that I’m P-chan. I guess pork is the menu tonight.”

She slapped him. “Don’t say that! We were worried about you. Sure Akane’s angry, but you know her…if you did the right thing then eventually she’ll forgive you. It’s gonna take some time, but hey, you did the right thing.”

“I just need to be away.”

“Away from Akane? Absolutely. Away from your friends? Absolutely not.”

“Who needs me? I’m useless. Useless as a rival to you. Useless as a friend to Akane.”

“I need you! Not as my rival, but as my friend.”

It was enough of a shock to pull him momentarily out of his funk. He remembered all the times Ranma would get angry that he’d been gone for too long. Or his frustration at the lost boy’s fervent desire for vengeance.

The rain came pouring down, and soon he’d be the pig that Ranma was always jealous of. He closed his eyes, accepting the pounding baptism.

After a few seconds, his clothes were soaked through. And he was still human. He opened his eyes. Ranma seemed a little surprised, but she shrugged it off. “Waterproof soap, right?”

“I kinda forgot that was even a thing,” he said, trying to laugh it off. But the day just couldn’t get worse. Not like this, he protested, Don’t answer my prayers like this. But it was no use to ask kami for takebacks. His curse was cured in front of the last person in the world that should have to have salt rubbed in her open wounds.

She let out a low chuckle. “Magic huh…I guess Jusenkyo works in mysterious ways. Good thing it’s raining…I’d hate for you to see me cryin’.”

“Ranma, I’m—”

She shoved her finger over his lips, silencing him. “No, don’t apologize.” She hugged him so fiercely he swore his ribs were going to crack. “I’m happy for you, Ryoga. I really am.”

Once the shock receded, he patted her back gently.

“This is what you need, Ryoga. I learned too late that a cure wasn’t what I needed. Or even really wanted.”

The trees rustled in the wind, like a low and earthy chuckle.

The Tendo house was eerily quiet; girlRanma couldn’t remember the last time it had been this quiet in the middle of the day. The house had always been alive with energy during the day. Now it was hollowed out by a tomblike silence.

The day had slowed to a crawl after the Tendo family hauled off on their trip with her male half. Soun, for all his faults, at least saw the problem coming, and gave her a way to save face by asking her to look after the house while they were away.

It would be just her and Nabiki here for the better part of two weeks. Two weeks away from Akane. Two weeks for her to spend in the arms of her other lover. Ranma let out a heavy sigh as she rummaged through the kitchen for something easy to make.

Things were just getting easier with her other half, and then this had to happen. He hadn’t seemed very jealous when Akane told him that she’d slept with his other half. But the redhead knew herself better than that. Of course he was jealous. If he was okay with this, it was because he was confident he would win in the end.

She smiled when she found a large bento front and center in the fridge. Kasumi had left a cute little note attached to it. As she sat down to dig into Kasumi’s delicious homecooked food, she heard a knock on the front door. Grumbling, she got up.

Shampoo was waiting when she opened the door. The girl smiled at her, presenting two piping hot deluxe ramen bowls.

“You knocked. I’m impressed,” Ranma said with a smile.

“You hungry?” asked Shampoo.

“Always. Was just sitting down to eat. Kasumi left me a bento for today. I’ll split it with you.”

The Amazon beamed back at her. She ushered Shampoo in, trying to forget the terror she’d felt in their last fight. The cuts and bruises had healed by now, but she still remembered seeing Shampoo broken in both body and spirit, begging her to end it. Ranma followed the Amazon, guilt gnawing at her bones for feeling on edge around Shampoo.

As they sat at the kotatsu, Ranma noticed that Shampoo’s usual mane was pulled up into two tight buns. How did she get it pulled up like that? Ranma said to herself. Shouldn’t be possible, unless she cut—

“Shampoo,” said Ranma, voice trembling, “you cut your hair?”

“No longer Nujiezu. No need for warrior’s hair.” Shampoo forced a smile as she dished out the ramen. “No worry airen, eat before it get cold. Didn’t want to make you worry.”

A word kept running through her head: selfish. She remembered why she’d kept the indecisive juggling up for so long. But there was no escaping the consequences anymore. “Shampoo…I’m so sorry.” She fought back the tears welling up in her eyes.

“It’s alright. My choice. Great-grandmother say she would figure a way to save face. But when Mousse attack you…well, boy-type Ranma, Shampoo decided to end it. Shampoo renounce warrior oath, cut hair in penance.”

Ranma slurped at her tea to fill the silence. She didn’t know what to say, so she twiddled away the moments. But when she looked back up at Shampoo’s melancholy smile, the worlds finally came. It hurt to say them. “So our engagement is over then?”

A year ago, it would have brought her such relief to hear that. But right now, there was nothing but a sour pang of regret. Maybe she just liked being the center of attention, but at the very least she couldn’t deny she’d grown quite fond of all of them.

“Amazon betrothal, yes. No kiss of death, no kiss of marriage. But Shampoo…I haven’t given up yet.”

Welp, time to ‘fess up. “Shampoo…I’m—”

“—lovers with violent girl? I already know.”

“Bwah…you do?”

“News travel fast. Spatula girl not happy, but strangely it give me hope. Maybe not out of the running yet.”

“Well…I don’t know what to say.” The deep red flush on her cheeks had said enough though. Ranma’s heart thumped as Shampoo batted her eyelashes. At me, not at him, she noted. It was exhilarating.

“I know it not be simple. And you might not be ready. And…I’m surprised to say this, I not want to hurt Akane’s feelings. Shampoo been at the bottom of a pit, not want to wish that on anyone.”

“Are you doing alright?” blurted Ranma, “I mean, do you need anything? A place to stay.”

Shampoo shook her head. “Great-grandmother accept my choice. She say she decide it time to retire anyway. Still have Cat-Café, been taking Japanese classes; want to go to school with airen for last year.”

The panic had gone. The uncharted territory, of just being normal friends with her romantic entanglements, was proving quite alluring. “You know, I’d like that.”

“I’m glad. Now, eat your ramen before I do.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Kenzan Konatsu perched herself atop the telephone pole, watching the minutes tick by. This cozy suburban neighborhood had concealed evil in its midst. And while the request had ultimately come from Ranma, Lady Ukyo had given her this task, so she set aside her loathing for Ranma and did as her liege asked.

Dusk had fallen hours ago. The gentle night winds combed through her long ponytail. Konatsu glanced again at her watch. 02:58. It’s time.

Finding the archfiend Gosunkugi’s house had not been difficult. In the masque of a humble pizza delivery girl, she’d found his place through the Kenzan Clan Secret Technique: Asking Directions. And picked up a few phone numbers along the way, though she didn’t know why these young men had given them to her or what she was supposed to do with them.

She dashed through the neighborhood, silent as the night winds. She took her perch atop her target’s house, surveying for traps. Completely defenseless, not even a yappy little dog to sound the alarm. A dim blue light emanated from Gosunkugi’s room. Hmm…a nightlight? At his age. Bizarre. She said to herself. Wait, don’t feel sorry for him, you’ve got a mission to do!

She took a bundle of thin silk rope from her belt, tying one end around the cinderblock chimney. With a deep breath, she began her inverted rappel.

The window was shut. The room beyond was concealed by Venetian blinds. A lesser ninja would be daunted by such defenses, but not Konatsu. She drew a kunai from her belt and silently pried loose the mosquito screen. Then ever so gently, she dug the point into the crevice and slowly levered the window open. Once the gap was large enough to fit a finger in, she tucked the knife into her teeth and inched the window open.

After taking a quick peek, she slithered her way into the room, leaving the line dangling for her retreat. With the sleeping fiend unawares, she would now plunder his room and force it to divulge his darkest secrets.

At least, that was the plan. When she turned from the window, she found Gosunkugi sitting cross-legged in front of a television, staring back at her with sunken, sleep-deprived eyes. She froze in panic. The seconds ticked by silently, neither moving a muscle.

Gosunkugi rubbed the delirium from his eyes. “A girl…in my room. My prayers have been answered!”

Konatsu sprang into action, tackling the frail boy and muzzling his cries. He felt slimy and fishlike to touch, and smelled like stale sweat, but the kunoichi put aside her revulsion as she forced him into a submission hold. He had judo skills on par with a wet noodle, so in mere moments she had him tied up like a proper prisoner of war, trussed into a kneeling position with his arms bound behind his back.

As she admired her handiwork, Gosunkugi seemed strangely nonplussed. He struggled against the bindings for a moment before saying, “You know, this isn’t quite how I imagined my first time but now that it’s here I am actually digging this.”

Konatsu blinked. “Um…what?”

“Wait…you’re not here to…you know?”

“I know what?”

“Well…this is awkward.”

This was not how she imagined her first interrogation taking place. So she went back to basics. First principal of interrogation: establish the stakes, she quoted from memory. She drew the flat of her kunai across the voodoo nut’s cheek. “You have secrets, Gosunkugi Hikaru,” she said, her voice like a razor. “You will tell them to me.”

Gosunkugi shuddered, but not with fear. His face went red with embarrassment.

Konatsu sighed, recalling some of those strange comics Ukyo pretended weren’t hers. After a pregnant pause, she said “You know, you’re making this hard.”

“I’m sorry, it’s doing that on its own.” After she groaned audibly, he said, “Oh, you meant the general situation…right. I’m pretty sure I know why you’re here.”

“Good, then let’s cut to the chase. Tell me who you’re working with.”

“No.”

Konatsu blinked. “Um, this isn’t how things are supposed to work. I’m supposed to threaten you, and then you’re supposed to tell me what I want.”

“You’re not very good at this interrogation thing, are you? Threaten me all you want, I’ll never give up my crusade against Saotome!”

Curses! My bluff has been called, she thought. She could bring herself to actually hurt someone who was defenseless, and he seemed to be enjoying being tied up and humiliated. Gosunkugi’s gaze flitted between her and the TV. A comically underdressed girl with a sword was fighting against some demons on the TV. Chance!

Konatsu ejected the tape from the VCR. In the pale blue light, she could just barely make out the title, Legend of Lemnear.

“Um, I was watching that…” said Gosunkugi.

“Mhm. Looks expensive. How much did you pay for it?”

“Oh, are you into anime too? This one is by Urushihara Satoshi, very high demand. I got it for a very good price, only ten thousand yen. I could hook you up, you know.”

She flipped the protective hatch back, exposing the thing reel of magnetic tape. She ran the flat of edge of her kunai under the tape, unspooling a few centimeters. “It would be a shame if something were to happen to it.”

“Do your worst! I’ll never tell you—”

She unreeled a few more centimeters. “You sure about that?”

“—that my contact is the Kuno family retainer Sasuke. But I’ll never tell you anything more.”

A few more centimeters.

“Except that he didn’t know what I was supposed to do with the photos, or he would have never cooperated. The boss was very clear about that. Strict secrecy, which is why I will not tell you—”

Konatsu glared at him.

“—that she’s one of Nabiki’s crew.”

“A name. Or else.”

“She didn’t tell me her name. I’m not exactly well liked here, and I barely know the names of the girls in my own class.”

Konatsu cocked an eyebrow, placing the edge of the kunai against the tape.

“What more do you want? Sasuke provides me with the photos, I distribute them and give the blackmail copies to her for safekeeping. I swear that’s all that I know!”

Konatsu slipped the knife back into its sheath. “I believe you. Which is why I’m going to let you go. You’re going to go on about your life like nothing ever happened.”

Gosunkugi nodded vigoriously. “Yes mistress!”

Konatsu blinked. “Um…I’m going to untie you now. Try not to make this any weirder.”

A strange sort of pity welled up in the kunoichi. She meticulously unknotted the ropes from his body and gently inspected each patch of skin for bruises and rashes. Voodoo Spike cooed under her touch. She felt the veins popping in her forehead. “You’re making it weird again,” she grumbled.

“I can’t help it. You’re so feminine and sweet while being so utterly ruthless. Say, what’s your number?”

“You do realize I was born a boy, right?” she said, hoping to deter him.

Gosunkugi rubbed his stiff shoulders and shrugged. “Eh, cute is cute.”

Konatsu snickered softly. “You know, Hikaru-kun, if you hadn’t been so awful and vindictive about your last crush, I might have even said ‘yes.’ But you’ve got a lot of growing up to do.”

The kunoichi left as quickly as she had come, leaving the boy alone with his jealousy and trashy anime. But when the mirth of validation from an unexpected source receded, her thoughts turned to Ukyo. Dashing from rooftop to rooftop, she felt sore at herself for whining about helping Ranma. Lady Ukyo had asked this of her though, and she couldn’t refuse.

She stopped on a clocktower, letting out a heavy sigh. Maybe Ukyo would never think of her as a lover. Her heart ached as she clutched at her chest. But it wasn’t Ranma’s fault. Stewing in bitterness would just mean going down the same path as Kuno or Gosunkugi.

Lonely are the night winds keeping her company. It was time to let go of the old grievances and let them be carried off like leaves in the wind.

Half a world away, it was hot, sunny afternoon at a quaint old abbey nested in the Spanish Pyrenees. An old priest knelt in the gardens, dutifully picking the weeds away from the Peonies. He stood up, stretching his old muscles. He pulled his flat cap off, using it to dab the sweat away from his eyes. The short white hair wreathed his balding head like laurels; the sun pricked uncomfortably at the now exposed skin.

Soon, he’d break for some Darjeeling tea, and he could cool off inside.

A stranger approached, wearing the rough clothes of one of the mountain shepherds. He might have looked the part, were it not for the prominent silver pendant that hung from his neck. The silver was knotted into four trefoils, joined together in the shape of a cross.

The pilgrim took off his broad brimmed hat. “Excuse me, I was told to ask for Father Manuel. Are you he?”

The priest slipped his cap back on. “I am. How may I be of service, Mister…?”

“Just Carolus, if you please.”

“Well, Carolus, what brings you to La Brecha de Rolando?”

“I’m something of an archeologist, actually. My organization received word that a priceless artifact was unearthed nearby, and that it might be in your possession.”

“Speak plainly, friend. You’ve come in search of the sword Durandal. It was supposed to be in our possession. But I’m afraid the man who found it could not be convinced otherwise. In his words, ‘Finders, keepers.’”

“More’s the pity. Would you happen to know this gentleman’s address, and where I might call upon him?”

Something writhed in Manuel’s gut. This pilgrim might as well have had a forked tongue to go along with his slithery words. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Both, actually. Truly sorry I cannot be more help.”

“Oh, more’s the pity. That just won’t do,” said the stranger.

Chapter Text

After thirteen years and multiple broken promises to one day finish Amor Fati , I am officially throwing in the towel on this one.

But this isn't so much The End as it is An End. Because I've been working on a sort of spiritual reboot of the fic. And I figure anyone who has stuck with this one for so long deserves some closure for this story, especially if they started reading it way back on ff.net.

What it boils down to is that I'm just not the same person I was when I started writing this fic. The bleakness of the early chapters is in constant tension with changing tone of later ones. I started this story during what was the worst time in my life. The tragedy I set up in the in media res opening is something I no longer have any drive to write. Because I am not the lost, broke, and alone kid who started this story. Since that time, I have found myself. I know who I am, where I belong. And for that reason, I can't finish this story.

There's no harm in spoiling the ending(s) of a story you no longer plan to finish. That alone is part of the problem. As originally conceived, the story was going to end with Ran's heroic sacrifice. True to the title, a Latin phrase meaning a love of one's fate, it was a story about the resolute acceptance of the cruel twists of fate. That it was better to move beyond the loss of the things that made you who you are, your name, your place in the world, the bonds you have, by loving what they meant to you. In short, for Ran to love Akane, even if she could never be more than just friends, and to love herself--and her other half--rather than resent what was lost.

I lost the will to go through with this somewhere around the writing of chapter six or seven. So at some point, the ending changed, but that reverberated down through the story. Events meant to set up a now discarded ending dangled unfinished, destined to go nowhere, and the things meant to replace them sat on a foundation made of sand. But I continued, out of habit.

So new, weird little meanderings made their way in. Without even realizing it, something of a romance began to bud between Ran and Nabiki, even as I tried to steer Akane back into the mix with Ran.

By the end, the only well formed idea I had left was an epilogue, set years later, where Ranma and Akane have children of their own, and aunti Ran comes to visit. The oldest child, too precocious, asks why she never sees kid photos of Ranma and Ran together. Ran, babysitting for date night, finally explains that he might have been her son, and that sometimes when she’s babysitting, she forgets he isn’t.

Alas, I could never find the path to get there. So the story foundered, unable to imagine what must exist in the path between the story as it exists and what it must become. So rather than leave anyone yearning any longer, I figured I would close the book on this one, and rebuild something from the same building blocks. 

I’ll be posting prologue to that new story soon, titled Velut Luna . I hope you’ll enjoy my indulgence, trying to rework the themes of an old story.