Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Stop squirming Ranma, or you might lose an eye.” Mrs. Hana warned him — her, she had to stay in character all day, on her last day of Spring Break — warned her.

“Don’t tell me that, Mrs. Tendo!” Ranma complained but summoned the willpower to comply.

“Or just wipe all that off and go with a normal, masculine look…” Naoki butted in. “Or don't go at all. I offered to find a replacement for you…”

“Thank you, Naoki, I know this is my fault.” Ranma snapped. “But if you can find another 16-year-old who's free and can get an outfit together in the next couple hours—”

“Sorry sweetie, you committed. I think this will be good for you, though. Don't speak for sec.” Inwardly Ranma rolled her eyes in response to Mrs. Hana's words. There's no way that today wouldn't absolutely suck. Stupid girls, stupid crying girls. Ranma was a girl about half the time now, why couldn't she be immune to them? Idly she wondered if she could use that power herself…but no, Mrs. Hana was right and it was too late to back out.

“All done! I'm going to send you with everything I just used and these,” she held up a little bag full of wet cotton pads, “in case your friend thinks you look too much like a mom. But what do you think?” She held out a compact.

Ranma took it and inspected her face. Admittedly she didn't really know how to judge if the makeup looked good or not, but Mrs. Hana’d done a subtle job: she hid the sun splotches Ranma developed from years on the road, applied a little blush to her cheeks and the tip of her nose, filled out and darkened her eyebrows, given Ranma what she’d called “puppy eyes”, a light dusting of glittery purple eyeshadow, and tinted her lips a few shades brighter than they were naturally. The problem was that she could tell she looked beautiful.

Casually she closed the compact before her heart could pound any harder. “Looks good t'me.” She declared and stood up, straightening the creases of the awful dress Mrs. Hana'd let her borrow. It was that blue sundress she bought weeks ago, and Ranma hadn't dared look at any mirror that showed her body since she put it on.

“Hold on, we should do your hair too.” The Tendo matriarch began, but Ranma practically hissed and jumped back — daintily so as not to undo any of Mrs. Hana's hard work.

“Don't mess with my hair!!” Ranma panicked and grabbed her pigtail defensively.

Both of them looked at Ranma in confusion but shrugged. “Suit yourself, just keep in mind the little old ladies will judge you.” Mrs. Hana warned Ranma about the “judgy little old ladies” so many times already she wasn't sure how she was going to avoid their baleful scrutiny anyway.

She needed to leave though, so she scooped up the gift Mrs. Hana helped her pick out and the, ugh, purse she needed to carry stuff since the stupid blue dress didn't have pockets and headed downstairs. At least she didn't have to worry about Akio seeing her like this: she'd made sure the three oldest men in the household would be otherwise occupied.

That was the plan anyway: as soon as she turned the corner to the hallway where both pairs of shoes were waiting for her, the front door opened and Katsumi, Akio, and Pops as a bedraggled, soaked panda stepped in, saw her, and froze. 

“Uuuuggghhhh come on, really?” Ranma growled. How'd she let herself get talked into this situation again?

A scant four days ago Ranma and Akio ran into Asami and her boyfriend, Yūsaku, at the mall, in the middle of what looked like a minor argument.

“I can't get out of it, you know I would if I could.” Yūsaku had his hands clapped together in front of him and was bowing impressively deep at the waist.

“But you promised! Everybody else I've asked is already busy, nobody's free the weekend before school starts!” Asami seemed distraught, and was starting to cause a scene.

Ranma, perched on the second floor railing looking down at them, tilted his pink-haired head. “Whaddya think they're fightin’ about?”

“I don't know, but it's not polite to poke your nose in other peoples’ business.” Akio warned between sips of his big, sugary drink, though made no effort to hide his stares.

“Iunno, they're havin’ it out in public, maybe I could help.” His next action was Ranma's gravest mistake yet, even if it was made with the best of intentions.

He leapt down before Akio could object, still mid-slurp. In truth, the real motivator behind Ranma's impulsive decision was boredom. They'd only been out of school for a week and a half but Furinkancho was boring once you'd figured out where everything was. They tried skateboarding one more time but Ranma was beginning to think it wasn't for him. Plus he kept getting distracted thinking about what happened the first night he got on the board…

But if he'd reined in his impulses just a little better, he would never have put himself right in front of an almost crying girl like Asami. “Hey guys, everythin’ okay?”

They practically jumped at Ranma's arrival, sudden as it was. “GAH! Ranma, you scared me!” Asami declared as Yūsaku fell over backwards. She leaned down to help him up but froze, suddenly looking back at Ranma with huge, pleading eyes. That's when the hairs on the back of his neck went up and a sense of dread crept into his belly. “Wait…Ranma, what are you doing Sunday?”

“Uhhhh nothin'.” Which was true, Ranma's last day before second year started was going to be a calm, relaxing day getting ready.

Unless something ruined his plans, of course. “Oh perfect! Can you come with me to my second-oldest sister’s wedding? I have a plus one, this traitor was gonna go with me but he just cancelled!”

“Hey it's not my fault my great-grandpa fell!” Yūsaku tried to defend himself. “We just found out about it last night, and we have to go all the way to Sendai to make sure he's okay!”

“Anyway,” Asami ignored him with a roll of her eyes, “it's gonna be this big, Western style wedding and she's 24 and all her friends are like amazing college graduates or whatever and there won't be anyone else there our age, and I just need a friend to keep me safe from all my judgy family members!”

Ranma was torn: the last place he wanted to be was a wedding as a girl! People would start getting ideas and he might start imagining himself in a bridal gown and makeup and all the girly stuff like lace and flowers, and she didn't have many friends so her bridesmaids would be Sayuri, Yuka, Hiroko, and Asami, and Pops would have to give her away, and she would have asked Mrs. Hana to be her maid of honor but it wouldn't make sense for the mother of the groom to be the bride’s maid of—

“Ranma?” She blinked and realized Asami's eyes were already watering. Between snapping out of the fanta…confusing jumble of random, meaningless thoughts and the incipient waterworks, Ranma was unable to do anything but clasp Asami's hands in her own, look her straight in the eyes, and damn herself:

“I don't gotta be a bridesmaid, right?” Asami shook her head. “Then you got it!” Ranma exclaimed with a broad smile, and Asami was so elated that she shrieked and wrapped Ranma in a tight hug.

Once the pact was struck there was no going back, and almost immediately Ranma regretted it.

“Oh it's such good luck we ran into you here!” Asami exclaimed, and Ranma raised an eyebrow. “I know you're a bit of a tomboy and you don't have any normal clothes. What about makeup? Accessories? Shoes?” She glanced down at Ranma's feet and saw he was indeed still wearing his boy–sized martial arts footwear.

“Wait, no, sorry, I was just gonna wear something like I usually do, ‘Sami!” Regret was already overtaking him as he started cautiously stepping back, but it was too late: Asami had his scent.

Hours later he and Akio walked out of the mall with a new pair of sandals that “would go well with anything” and a new makeup kit with the essentials. “There goes the last of my allowance...” Ranma lamented his poor choices to Akio, who laughed, and Ranma couldn't even blame him.

“Eh, don't worry about that, I'll spot you if you need something.” His faux fiancé reassured him with a sideways squeeze. The idea of another dude paying for him should have offended Ranma's pride, but he and Pops ran too many scams back in the day to consider being ashamed.

Back in the present, Ranma pushed through the giants crowding the genkan before anyone said anything stupid. “I gotta go catch the train, I don't wanna keep Asami waiting. I'll be back by tonight.” She rattled off her “goodbye” and was through the front gate before the last person she wanted to hear from called out her name.

“Wait, Ranma!” Akio shouted as he jogged up to her. “Your dad wanted me to give you this.” He matched her stride and handed her an envelope that she could tell had a few bills in it. “He wanted to make sure you could get something to eat if you got hungry.”

“Oh! Tell Pops thanks, I guess.” Ranma accepted the gift and slid it into her bag, but Akio didn't turn around or head back. “Anythin’ else you needed?”

“Uh…no, not really, I just wanted to…to make sure you got to the station okay.” Ranma scoffed and glanced at Akio's face. The tall boy was beet red and couldn't even look at Ranma for more than a few seconds before turning away, probably to keep himself from laughing out loud at Ranma's ridiculous getup.

“Sure, whatever. Is Naoki hanging out nearby to take embarrassing pictures or somethin’?” She pouted, but Akio tilted his head in confusion.

“What? No, it's just me. I know you don’t need, y’know, an escort or anything but we’re not gonna see each other all day and that’s kinda weird. Not that I need to see you every day or anything, you can spend your time however you want it’s just the last day before school so I wanted to make sure I could see you. N-not that I wanna look at you, y’know I just meant that we were gonna hang out but then this thing happened an-an-and I wanna make sure you have a good time—”

“Okay, whoa, I get it!” Ranma looked away to try and seem aloof, but she wanted to hide her own intense blush after Akio’s word deluge. “Th-thanks, I guess. What are, uh, you gonna do today?”

It took Akio a few minutes of awkwardly scratching the back of his neck to come up with an answer. “Hang out with Naoki and Katsumi I guess. We're all free today and we haven't just hung out in like a year, probably since before Katsumi graduated.” He had a wistful look in his eyes that made Ranma ache with envy. She'd love to just chill out with the Tendo boys instead of going to a stupid wedding dressed up like a chick.

“Actually, yeah, it was winter break back in ‘85. Katsumi's last winter break. We were hanging out in Kabukicho. Mom didn't know, and, uh, please don't tell her…” He nervously chuckled and Ranma couldn't help but giggle. This was a serious moment between bros, surely Akio knew her well enough to trust she wouldn't blab. “But we kept getting Katsumi to buy us some beer. He did that thing with his glasses, y’know where, uh…”

“Oh yeah, when he pushes ‘em up all serious like when he wants to look adult or whatever?” Ranma finished for him, and he nodded emphatically.

“Exactly, and it worked! Most of the time anyway. Until we tried it at a convenience store run by these two tough looking guys. I think they thought Katsumi was a cop.”

Ranma's burst of laughter cut him off before he could continue, both because of its volume and how utterly enchanting it was. “He does seem like a cop! He's got that stern teacher thing goin' on, what’d they do?”

“It was hilarious: as soon as they thought he was a cop they started threatening him but they were being super vague about it and you know how he is with metaphors and stuff.” Akio had clearly told this story many times before, but he was so excited to tell it to Ranma for the first time his volume went up and he started gesticulating wildly. “They think he’s being smart with them, and me an’ Naoki don’t know what to do, like we’re frozen watching this from the other side of the store, trying to send him signals to get out of there, but he’s even worse at picking up on that kind of thing. Until one of them pulls out a knife.”

“Oh gosh! Did he get out of that okay, or does this story end in the emergency room?” She was hooked and leaned in close despite how loud he was being.

“Sometimes we forget that he’s strong and knows the basics of our house style. In the blink of an eye he grabs the guy’s wrist, smashes it against the counter, throws his buddy down to the floor, then covers us as we book it.” He grinned and shook his head. “We, uh, stopped trying to pull that scam after that.”

Ranma chuckled as they approached the station right as the train pulled up. “Well you ever wanna pull a scam with an expert just lemme know.” She said, thumping her chest, then panicked trying to smooth out the crease she just made in her sundress. “Anyway, have a good Sunday, I’ll see ya in a few hours!”

He caught her waving hand before she walked away and squeezed it. She turned to see what else he needed but he was just smiling at her, which froze her words in her throat. He broke off the…whatever it was before she did, and softly answered “You too.”

Fortunately she only had to sit alone with her thoughts until the next stop when Asami and a couple of her sisters and their plus ones boarded. Asami was wearing a fitted pastel green dress that went down to her knees, but had a sort of built-in secondary skirt around her waist…peplum, Ranma thought it was called? The dress was sleeveless but collared and complemented by beautiful jewelry and a matching wide-brimmed felt fedora.

Asami spotted Ranma almost immediately, rushed over with a gleam in her eye, and assessed Ranma’s outfit before she’d gotten to her feet. “Ranma! You look so good!” Asami gave Ranma a friendly, if powerful, hug, and before they separated she whispered a beleaguered “Thank you so much, seriously.”

“No worries, Asami.” Ranma reassured her friend, managing to keep the sudden stinging pressure in her stomach from graduating to nausea as the rest of Asami’s party approached her.

That’s when Ranma realized one of the girls was dressed like some sort of Western fairytale character, with her black hair tied into twin pigtails and long silk ribbons. Her outfit was a garish amalgamation of black lacy fabrics and full of bows. Like, bows everywhere: on her stockings, on her lace-up gloves, on her shoes, a giant bow tied behind her back it was…a lot.

Before Ranma could blurt out what she was thinking Asami interrupted and made introductions.

“Saotome Ranma, this is my youngest sister Miyuki,” she gestured to the living doll, who curtsied, “my middle sister Satsuki,” she nodded to a woman in a gold dress that matched Asami’s, who also nodded, “and their friends Shiratori Azusa and Ikeda Takako.”

Ranma wasn’t sure how she missed Miyuki’s friend Azusa (probably Miyuki herself): she was wearing the exact same thing as Miyuki but in a kaleidoscopic mix of pink, white, and cream. “Nice to meet all of you,” Ranma bowed confidently.

“Asami’s told us some pretty wild stuff about you, Ranma. Is it true you jumped up to the school roof from the ground floor?” Satsuki asked through a sardonic grin, clearly not willing to believe Ranma was capable of such minor feats of athletics.

“I jumped outta the third floor window into the pool,” Ranma corrected. “But to get up to the roof took jumping into the trees an’ then the light poles first.” Of course, now she had to get to the point she could make that leap in a single bound.

Regardless, Satsuki seemed suitably cowed when she realized Ranma wasn’t kidding. “Oh, right, after you beat Kuno, Saotome-chan?” Miyuki piped in, and Ranma nodded.

“Yup!” the pinkette nodded enthusiastically, “Fierce Tigress of the Saotome Anything Goes Martial Arts School.”

“Ohhhh you're a martial artist, that makes sense.” Takako added as the train lurched and they all took their seats.

Once they were settled — Ranma next to Asami and Asami's sisters next to their friends — Takako continued. “Is that title real or did you just make it up?”

*Oh, the Tigress thing? I remember exactly, I think I heard Kuno call Akio a Noble Lion or somethin' an’ I just rolled with it. Always thought tigers were cooler so I wanted ta get in front of the nickname thing.”

“Akio?” Takako looked between Ranma, Asami, and Miyuki for an answer.

“Do you remember Tendo Katsumi?” Satsuki continued when Takako nodded. “Akio is his youngest brother, same class as Asami and Ranma.”

“And Ranma’s fiancé!” Asami cheerfully added, which made Ranma's face turn bright red as Satsuki, Takako, and Azusa gasped and squealed excitedly. Miyuki said nothing and rolled her eyes.

“Now don' go turnin’ it inta somethin' it's not!” Ranma protested: the last thing she wanted was to steal Asami's sister's thunder on her big day. “It's an arranged engagement our parents set up way before we were born. Akio ‘n me are just hangin' out and seein’ if we like each other right now.”

That would have worked: the girls started to calm down. “Okay sure but you fell asleep on top of him on movie night. Twice!” Asami giggled.

“I was tired! And I wasn't on top of him, I was next to him!” The fact that her friend would rat her out like that made her shriek and desperately wish she'd never agreed to leave the comforts of the Tendo household today.

“Yeah the first time.” Asami kept needling which just made the other two giggle. Ranma had to do something because anything was better than what was happening to her at that moment.

“So uh Azusa, Miyuki, what's up with the frilly dresses?” Ranma gave them a pleading look and she did not care in the slightest how Asami, Takako, and Satsuki immediately groaned.

“We’re glad you asked!” Miyuki grinned triumphantly.

“We promised not to say anything about it unless someone brought it up first.” Azusa nodded, and the girls high-fived.

“Yep I definitely wanna know more please by all means.” Ranma leaned forward, ignoring any and all protests and refusing to give the other girls any opportunity to butt in. “I don’t really do clothes this isn’t even my dress and why’re you in all black?”

“So you haven’t heard of lolita?” Miyuki savored the foreign-sounding word and Ranma shook her head.

“Nope: if it don’t have somethin’ to do with martial arts I don’t know much about it.” As long as the girls weren't asking about her and Akio she didn't care what the topic was.

“Where’d you get your hair dyed?” Azusa interrupted. “That kind of pop pink really fits with the cute style.”

Dammit, of course it came back to her. “Oh I don't dye my hair, my mom had the same color.” Ranma fished out her wallet and a picture of a pink-haired woman standing next to Genma, back when he still had a full head of hair, at their wedding. Ranma used to have a picture of her mother holding her as a baby, but since she had black hair in the picture it wouldn't make a lot of sense.

The other five girls were fascinated. “Your mom's so pretty: you look just like her!” Asami's exclamation made Ranma blush a little, and she prayed all the makeup she was wearing was doing its job.

“Is her name Nadine? She looks like a Nadine.” Azusa’s eyes glittered with excitement, ignorant of Ranma’s shaking head.

“Why do you have a picture from your parents' wedding?” Miyuki asked bluntly, with only minimal judgemental stares from her sister.

“I don't have a lot of pictures of her,” Ranma explained. “She disappeared when I was, like, two or three.” Despite having gotten over it before she was five, the other girls suddenly wrapped her in a cocoon of sympathy, coos, and, in Asami's case, a tight hug.

“Well, in that case, if you still want to hear about lolita fashion…” Azusa offered eagerly.

“Yep!” Ranma gingerly pried herself from Asami's affectionate grasp. “Definitely still interested!”

The other girls groaned.

Almost three hours later Ranma never wanted to hear about fashion again. Miyuki and Azusa really were motormouths. If Akio came up again on the trip back Ranma would just grin and bear it. Though she had to admit, it was interesting how deliberate the girls were about their clothes. It reminded Ranma a lot of Anything Goes, how the purpose was to take what worked from other styles and customize it to match the practitioner’s needs.

But now Ranma faced a new challenge: navigating the wedding. The venue was outdoors, some sort of pavilion with a nice view of Mt. Fuji and the ocean. Asami and her sisters disappeared to speak with their immediate family members, leaving Ranma to stand awkwardly with Azusa and Takako. Not that they had a chance to speak to each other: apparently the Oofushis were a big family. Asami being one of five kids wasn't uncommon, as Ranma was introduced to so many aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews her head spun.

Just like Mrs. Hana predicted, a council of kimono-laden older women each made it clear that they disapproved of Ranma's hair color. That Ranma could handle though: she didn’t care what a bunch of judgmental old biddies thought of her. What absolutely flustered Ranma were all of the nice guests, the ones who said she looked cute and beautiful. She overheard an uncle refer to her as “the sweet-looking girl in the blue dress”, a pair of young kids came up and called her oneesan, a younger couple holding a baby commented she’d make a gorgeous bride one day…no amount of makeup could hide her blush.

Asami zeroed in on Ranma’s unease immediately after the family meeting, to make matters worse. “Thinkin’ about Akio?” She joked from behind Ranma. “You should see Sato-san’s suit, he’s the groom. He’s not as tall as your fiancé but he’s got those big, strong shoulders—”

“Please stop talking,” Ranma begged. She definitely hadn’t been thinking of Akio but she sure as hell was now. “Are you done? Can we go somewhere else for a little bit?” Of course her so-called friend was cruel enough to laugh at Ranma’s plight.

“Okay, okay, don’t worry. We actually do have a little break. The wedding party is doing pictures now so we’ve got like an hour. Hi Reiko-obaasan!” Asami took a minute to say hello to some family members, Ranma grateful someone else could free her from that responsibility.

“Your friend is so cute, Asami-chan! You’ll both catch husbands in no time.” Ranma shot a glare at Asami not to say anything about Akio or the fact that Ranma was already engaged, but the other girl continued assaulting her composure.

“Saotome Ranma-chan is already engaged actually, obaasan!” The youngest Oofushi grinned, not with malice but sincerity. Her enthusiasm made a poor salve for the knife wound in Ranma’s back as the old woman shifted her attention and doted on her, a combination of complimenting her “dainty figure” or “demure disposition”, criticizing her hair and dress color, and offering unsolicited advice about astrology and venues.

In any other situation, on any other day, with any other crowd Ranma would rebuff the barrage of emasculating comments with a declaration of her unassailable manliness, rugged good looks, and boyish charm. But despite her friend taking advantage of her magnanimity, Ranma wasn't going to make a scene in front of Asami's family, or ruin her sister's big day.

But damn if all she wanted was to get back to Nerima and throw herself into the nearest source of hot water.

Once Mrs. Reiko left Asami grabbed Ranma by the wrist and dragged the pigtailed girl away from the growing crowd. “Okay! Before any more of my family gets in our way we have a mission: lunch!”

“Oh awesome…” Ranma exclaimed. She was hungry, but even more importantly she was just happy to get away.

“Yep! Since you're with me and everybody knows what an awesome martial artist you are, we don't have to stay super close!” She grinned wide. “The plaza where the reception’s gonna be is full of street vendors right now, we can hang out there!”

Ranma was no stranger to street food, she and Pops ate on the road most of her life. As they got closer she smelled the delicious, comforting aromas of competing vendors. It wrapped around her like a childhood blanket, but one scent stood out.

“Wait…hold on…” Ranma surged forward, reversing Asami's grip so the pinkette was dragging her instead.

“Ranma, we gotta pick something that isn't gonna ruin our makeup!” Asami whined, but Ranma paid her no heed. She's spent enough time today worrying about girly stuff like that, plus if it was that important she could always ask for help reapplying her own. “Let’s stop at that takoyaki place!”

“Asami, do you smell that?” Ranma kept increasing her speed the closer she got to her quarry. “Kansai style okonomiyaki!”

“Okono—no that's so messy!” Asami started resisting but nothing was gonna hold Ranma back now. In the back corner of the plaza, up against a topiary wall, was a quaint little yatai, exactly like the one Ranma used to frequent as a child. “Ranma c'mon we need to get something—”

The okonomiyaki chef perked up from behind the cart at the sound of Asami's voice, wiping a spatula, and Asami interrupted herself with a sharp sucking of air between her teeth. Ranma had been pretending to be a normal girl long enough to understand why: the chef was young and cute, probably close to their age, with long brown hair kept back in a ponytail and headband to keep his bangs out of his eyes. His maroon uniform complemented his big, brown eyes. He wasn't the tallest boy Ranma knew, her birth form was at least five centimeters taller, but he stood proud and confident at his station.

“Well I guess we can ask for simple toppings…” Asami said in a breathy voice.

“If ya want. I'm gonna get—” 

“I know just the thing!” The chef interrupted and poured out two discs of batter which immediately began to sizzle on the griddle. “You got any allergies I need to worry about, sugar?” He only asked Asami, who shook her head. Ranma was livid: was he ignoring her? “Excellent.” His hands blurred as he prepped ingredients with astounding speed and precision as the girls gawked in amazement.

One of them was very simple, with bonito flakes, bean sprouts, and scallions. Nothing to write home about. The other was a horrifying amalgam of squid, octopus, fish cake, cheese, bok choy, scallions, and shallots. Despite the sheer volume of food everything came together in minutes. Asami's eyes watered from the smell but to Ranma it was very nearly the scent of her childhood. Or at least a very fun few months of her childhood.

The dashing chef slid them their food with a cocksure grin that had Asami swooning, but Ranma was too busy staring wide-eyed at her okonomiyaki. “How'd you…this is almost exactly the same as the kind I used to get as a kid.”

Frowning, the chef examined her plate. “Almost exactly? What'd I…the scallops!” In seconds he'd scooped up a pair of bivalves and had them searing on the griddle before dicing and slinging them onto Ranma's plate. 

Now that it was complete, Ranma glanced back and forth from her food to the chef, who wore an expectant grin on his face. “Do you know him, Ranma?” Asami guessed, which helped everything slide into place. 

“Ucchan!?” Ranma would never admit to squealing his name excitedly.

“Ranchan!” He shouted back, eyes glittering.

“It's been…ten years?” She estimated.

“Nine years, six months, and thirteen days.” He corrected her with a wink.

Asami cleared her throat, shaking Ranma out of her nostalgic reverie. “Oh! Oofushi Asami this is Kuonji Ukyo! Me an’ him were best friends when Pops an’ me lived in Chūbu. Ukyo, Asami’s one of my friends at school up in Tokyo.”

“Nice t’meet ya, miss,” Ukyo casually inclined his head towards Asami, though both he and Ranma missed the sour look on the other girl’s face. “Y’all actually stayin’ in one place this time or does your Pops have another trainin’ destination planned for ya?”

There was an edge to his words when he spoke of Genma, not that Ranma picked up on it. “Naw! We’re stayin’ with family friends ‘til I finish high school. I actually just got into year two! Man, we got so much ta catch up about—”

“Like your engagement!” Asami pointedly butt in. Ranma woulda got to it eventually, especially since it was pretty weird to hear two guys got eng—

Wait. Ranma was a girl. Well, currently a girl anyway. Wearing a little sundress and makeup and everything. Why didn't Ukyo…?

“En-engagement?” The chef looked taken aback, much to Asami's relieved delight. “That's…that's wonderful Ranchan, congrats! Wow ya really ain't a tomboy no more are ya?” 

Ranma could have sworn Asami muttered something like “yeah try not to sound too disappointed” but Ranma couldn't focus on anything but the cold sense of dread in the pit of her stomach.

Ukyo thought she was a girl? Ukyo always thought she was a girl, even though they used to spar and roughhouse as kids? Come to think of it they never bathed together, but surely…”Uh, no I'm still a, uh, tomboy,” Ranma scratched the back of her neck. “An’ it's an arranged engagement. Parents go way back, Pops’n Akio's dad made a pact for their schools.”

“Tch, your Pops would do that to ya, huh?” Ukyo nodded gravely. But what did he mean by that? “He's treatin’ you okay, though, right? Not tryin’ ta quash that fiery spirit a’ yours?”

“Sorry, we've actually got to get back to a wedding,” Asami cut in before Ranma could respond. “How much do we owe you?”

“Aw darlin' I'd never ask Ranchan or her friends for a single yen, ‘s my treat.” The darkness that clouded his face dissipated and the charming smirk returned. “I'll be here ‘til they kick us out, enjoy the weddin’!”

Asami said their goodbyes and dragged Ranma away from the yatai. “Ranma you gotta be careful around boys!” Asami chided once she was sure they were out of earshot. “I know at school nobody bothers you because of Akio but nobody knows you out here. And a childhood friend? He's definitely had a crush on you since the last time you saw him: he remembered how long it's been to the day!”

Ranma planted her feet. “I know how boys are, Asami, trust me.” I know a hell of a lot better than you know. “I never met a boy I couldn’t flatten with this!” Ranma flexed to indicate her powerful arms. She’d punched out grown men with that arm, let alone some two-bit punks trying to get fresh with her.

Not that any boy ever tried…any other boy ever tried anything like that with her. She’d only had a girl’s body for a couple of months so she supposed something could happen in the future, but nobody was at her level. And yet that didn’t seem to assuage Asami’s concerns.

“That doesn’t mean you should lead them on!” Her friend pleaded. “I’m not saying to not be friends with them, just make sure they know you don’t want to be more than that.”

“I’m not leading anybody on.” Ranma was getting annoyed. “And just ‘cause you wanted Ukyo to pay more attention to you than to me doesn’t give you the right to stop me from catching up with my old friend!”

Asami gasped but went silent long enough for Ranma to realize she’d said that louder than intended and she’d drawn an audience. “Ah…sorry…” she started to apologize for causing a scene but Asami spun on her heel and ran off. “Wait, Asami!”

But she was gone. “Girls!” Ranma groaned, likely to the confusion of the busybodies who couldn’t mind their own business. Whatever, Asami wasn’t her problem, especially since she ran back to the wedding. At least Ranma was pretty sure that’s where she went. It was the right direction.

Asami would be fine, and the wedding wasn’t for a couple more hours. Ranma had time to cool off and eat her okonomiyaki. Not around the nosy onlookers though. Instead she spun around and marched right back to Ucchan’s.

The chef was finishing up with some new customers but he clocked Ranma as soon as she came into view and even at a distance she could tell his eyes and smile went wide because of her. All sorts of doubts now plagued her thinking thanks to Asami.

Was he just happy to see her because she was currently a cute girl? Would he think her return to his cart meant something beyond an old friend wanting to catch up? Ranma took a seat on one of the yatai stools and grinned back at him.

“Where’d Asami-san go?” He started cleaning the griddle and his tools while they talked.

“She, uh, had ta go back to the weddin’ an’ talk to some of her family. Her sister’s the one gettin’ married.” Ranma started picking at her food and almost audibly groaned when the first bite hit her tongue.

“Great! Gives us time ta catch up, yeah?” Ukyo was delighted. “You gonna be in town long?”

“Nah, me an’ her got first day a’ school tomorrow up in Furinkancho, up in Nerima.” Somehow she’d already inhaled half her food between breaths. “An’ I gotta make sure she gets home okay. Martial artists gotta protect the weak, yanno?”

Ukyo smiled. “If there’s one good thing ya learned from yer Pops, it was that.”

Ranma tilted her head. “Ya got somethin’ against Pops?” She blurted out. Sure, he wasn’t the best dad, and he used to get them in trouble. Come to think of it, if the last time she saw Ukyo was 10 years ago he was probably missing a few stories about how Pops had changed.

“Sorry, I just…” He took a moment to organize his thoughts. “He screwed over my Pops an’ then took you away without even sayin’ goodbye. And now I find out he engaged you without you even knowin’ about it.”

Ranma never expected to run into someone she knew and was close to from before. They didn’t stay put long enough to get attached to anyone, and while they weren’t too far away from Ranma’s old middle school Furinkancho was a sleepy enough little neighborhood that she didn’t expect the couple of people she knew to ever show up there or recognize her.

Which brought her back to the odd revelation from earlier.

“Hey, uh, Ucchan, can I ask you somethin’?” She hoped her body language made it clear she was shifting topics.

“”Course Ranchan.” The shadow vanished from his features and she dismissed a flutter in her belly.

“I look…pretty different than I did when I was a kid…I didn’ expect anybody to recognize me like this…” How exactly was she gonna ask the question she wanted?

“I got lucky an’ heard Asami say your name, otherwise I wouldn’t’ve!”

“Still I know…my hair is a different color…?” What should have been a statement came out as a question.

“That confused me at first. When I was still puttin’ it together I remembered yer Mama had pink hair kinda like that, least she did in the pictures ya showed me.” He sure remembered a lot about their time together that Ranma didn’t. Maybe Asami was on to something.

“I, uh…spent a lot of time tryin’ ta convince folks I was a boy back then.” She didn’t like lying, but she also didn’t want to correct Ukyo. Or try and explain the curse, especially with the makeup and Mrs. Hana’s dress.

Immediately he looked shocked and concerned, and she worried she’d said something weird. But he grabbed her hands and bored his gaze into her eyes. “Ranma, if ya feel like a boy then yer a boy, it’s that simple. Have ya told anybody else?”

“Huh?” He kinda reminded her of Naoki at that moment. “I jus’ meant, uh, I was surprised that people from back then would think of me as a girl.” 

There was a long pause before he slowly let go of her hands and put his best customer service smile back on his face. “No worries! I’ve gotta, uh, pal who grew up thinkin’ he was a girl but it turned out he wasn’t, that’s all.” He awkwardly coughed and she swore he mumbled something like “smooth, Kuonji” before wholly returning his attention to her.

“Well…do ya want me ta think of ya as a girl, Ranchan?” It was a simple question but not something Ranma thought she’d have to deal with today. A sour feeling spread from her gut down to her toes and made them want to curl, her face started burning, her fingers shook, and her palms started feeling clammy.

“I…uh…gotta go find Asami.” She stammered and slipped off her stool. “Uhhhh stay in the area after they make ya pack up so I can get your number or address or somethin’, bye Ucchan!” 

She missed the panicked look on his face but heard the concern in his voice as he called after her. “Okay! Make sure y’all come back now, ya hear!?”

Ranma hurried back to the wedding venue as fast as she…sshhhheee…sheee…he could. He could take a minute in the bathroom to breathe, turn b-back into a guy instead of this adorable girl body sh-shh-he was currently wearing, and stop thinking about Ukyo pulling her — him — into a hug. Because Ranma was a boy, he needed to remind himself of that.

Just because it wasn’t a school day Ranma thought it would be just as easy to keep pretending he was a guy — girl. He pretended to be a girl so much he thought it’d be fine. But he didn’t account for running into Ukyo or for Ukyo to make him feel so, so…

So damn girly! It wasn’t right that another boy could make her feel — dammit him, him — like that. He just needed a few minutes to remind himself what reality was and he could get back out there.

“Ranma!” A recently familiar voice caught herhis attention as he beelined through the wedding crowd. Looking around, the source of the voice was Azusa, waving with an uncharacteristic frown. “Ranma, there you are! Adrienne-chan came through earlier crying. She said she was going to talk to her sisters but they’ve been looking for her and told Azusa they couldn’t find her!”

…Was she speaking in the third person? Ranma sighed. “Sorry Shiratori-san…who's Adrienne?” He rolled the foreign name around his tongue awkwardly.

“Sorry! When Azusa gets stressed she uses the names for cute things in her head instead of what they're supposed to be. Adrienne is Asami!”

Ah. Of course. Ranma couldn't take a break right now, finding her missing friend was more important. It would at least provide a solid distraction. “I'll go look for her. Can you hold onto my stuff for me?” Ranma handed the other girl her purse, makeup bag, and other things. “I'll be back in an hour if I don't find her.” Flashing a finger V at Azusa Ranma whirled around on her heel and began her search.

The last thing she wanted to do was interact with Asami's family if they were mad at Ranma. Best to try and find Asami. Of course she had no idea where the girl could have gone and they were in an unfamiliar city.

…

Dammit she was going to have to go back to Ucchan’s.

As she stepped onto the path connecting the two pavilions, however, her irritation-heightened senses alerted her to a surge of violent intent. Fortunately she also possessed incredible reflexes, though in the dress she couldn’t call upon the full suite of Saotome School aerial techniques.

Still, she whirled to the side, narrowly avoiding a steaming glob of beige goo that splattered on the concrete where she’d just been standing. “What the—?”

“I’m impressed you evaded my takoyaki batter barrage!” A voice echoed from nearby, though she couldn’t place from exactly where.

“Show yourself, coward!” She challenged, only to be met with a resounding laugh.

“No. Deliver a message to Kuonji Ukyo: I’ve taken your friend and will be waiting with her at our usual dueling place. You’d better tell him quickly if you want her to make it to the wedding on time!” With a laugh that reminded Ranma far too much of Kodachi, if an octave and a half lower, the mysterious attacker leapt away.

On any normal day she could follow the sound of his laughter and give chase but once again she was stymied by the stupid dress. With a huff she resumed her task.

Even though the wedding reception wasn’t for another few hours and none of the other carts or stalls were packing up, Ukyo had flipped the open sign to closed and was cleaning his cutlery. “Yo, Kuonji!” Ranma barked. The boy jumped, flinging a spatula and brush over his head.

“Ranma, y’all came back! To what do I owe the—”

“Somebody kidnapped Asami and tried to grab me, wanted me ta let you know. Said somethin’ ‘bout ‘the usual duelin’ place’.” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. “Tell me where that is so I can go punch the guy in the face and get my friend back fer the weddin’ in time.”

“Oh no, seriously? Now?” Ukyo groaned and bent down to retrieve something from behind the griddle.

“Wh-what is that!?” Ranma’s eyes boggled. Ukyo pulled out an enormous spatula with a handle long enough to need two hands and slipped on a bandolier full of normal sized spatulas. One of them glinted and Ranma had to correct herself: sharpened spatulas.

“Sorry y’all got roped into this, sugar.” Ukyo drawled. “Ya mind watchin’ the cart while I getcher friend back?” He put a hand on her shoulder and flashed a reassuring grin.

Ranma turned the grin into a pained gasp as she grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back effortlessly. “I ain’t watchin’ anything, Ucchan: jus’ tell me where they are an’ I’ll take care of it!”

“Ran-Ranchan ya don’t know this guy!” He winced in Ranma’s unyielding grasp. “Dang yer strong fer a little thing…”

“She’s my responsibility, I’ll be the one to get her.” Ranma proclaimed. “Now jus’ tell me where ya normally duel him.”

“Okay, okay, jus’ leggo a’ me!” Ukyo pleaded. Ranma softened her hold but didn’t release him. “Thank ya kindly darlin’.” He panted through his relief and straightened his chef uniform with a scowl. “Awright, so ya see that buildin’ over there?”

“Yeah I see-EEEEEE!” Without warning Ukyo scooped her up in his arms and leapt into the air. He wasn't going any faster or higher than she could manage on her own but instinctively she clung to him. “What the hell, man!?”

“Call it a compromise,” he smirked. “This way ya get there without dirtyin’ yer friend's mama's dress an’ I can deal with Hayato while y'all get back to tha weddin’.”

“Put me down an’ tell me how ta get there myself! I don’t need ya fightin’ my battles!” Flashes of Akio intervening when she was supposed to fight the Horde and challenging Tatewaki on her behalf without asking played through her mind’s eye. This was the same nonsense clearly intended to make her feel weak and incapable just because she was a girl.

Rather, she was being treated like a girl. That’s what Ukyo saw after all: even if he wasn’t trying to flirt he still saw Ranma as a girl. Why did he see Ranma as a girl though? It was obvious why he thought that in the present, Ranma was wearing a dress and makeup and had boobs, all the things a teen boy expected a girl to have. But Ukyo thought Ranma was a girl when they were six, even after spending almost every day together for months! 

It…it was embarrassing! It meant Ukyo probably thought she was super girly or something, and now she was clinging to his slender but powerful arms like some sort of fragile waif.

Forget Mrs. Hana’s dress, it wasn't worth the humiliation. Ranma did a quick mid-jump calculation and right before Ukyo landed she gripped a handful of his shirt in each fist and spun him around.

“What in—?” Was all Ukyo managed to say before crashing through the roof of a school athletic shed.

Ranma sat on his belly, his shirt still mooshed between her fingers. “Listen you, I ain't a princess or an orchid or some kinda…kinda…” Ukyo blushed fiercely as Ranma squeezed the mass in her hands. Sarashi peeked out from under his top, way too high to be haramaki. And given how tight it was… “Are…are you wearin’ binders?”

“So y’do know what…nevermind.” Ukyo pushed Ranma off and sat up. Her childhood friend looked irritated and thoughtful in equal measure. “Awright, ya got me,” Ukyo sighed and opened the chef's uniform top. From Naoki-sensei’s teaching, Ranma realized the tricks Ukyo was using to masculinize his shape.

Her shape? “You’re a girl? Since when!?” Ranma boggled.

“I ain’t…I mean…not really. I lied, I’m the friend I was talkin’ ‘bout. But I’m a boy!” Ukyo slammed his hand against a desk they’d landed next to.

Ranma was aware that water related incidents happened around her more often than they used to, especially hot water. But it still strained credulity that there was an unattended tea kettle in the equipment shed full of boiling hot water, and that it was so poorly secured that it tipped over at the slightest rocking of the desk.

Regardless, she was doused with hot water and suddenly six to nine centimeters taller than Ukyo.

Inwardly she…no, he now, swore. He'd have to dry off and change back before rescuing Asami. Also, Ukyo was now staring at him with the same wide-eyed, utterly confused look Ranma was giving him earlier.

“Ra-Ranma?!” Ukyo shrieked and leaned in, gripping shoulders and biceps and poking Ranma's chest in disbelief. “How did—what did—where’d yer—huh?!”

“Look it's a long story,” Ukyo turned beet red as soon as Ranma opened his mouth, probably disgusted by the sight of such a manly guy in such a girly dress. “Short version is I gotta curse: cold water turns me into a girl, hot water into a guy.”

“How…how…” Ukyo was shaking.

“I dunno, magic?” Ranma hoped Ukyo got over his confusion soon, they didn’t have all day.

“...Where?”

“Cursed spring place in China. Pops’n me went there, uh…” Ranma took a moment to realize it had only been a few weeks since his fateful fall into Jusenkyo. “Not too long ago. He’s got it worse, he turns into a panda.”

The silence coming from Ukyo was deafening. Ranma braced himself for the inevitable barrage of judgment, scorn, and disgust, but it never came.

“Does yer Pops also turn into a panda in hot water or does it work diff’rent fer ‘im?” He asked eventually.

“Huh? No, hot water changed ya back to your real form.” Ranma corrected. For some reason this confused Ukyo even more. 

“Wait…are you tellin' me you were a fella when we were kids?”

It was Ranma's turn to stare. “Wait, why'd you think I was a girl?”

“Ya showed up all cute ‘n demure ‘n boobs ‘n everythin’!” Ukyo exclaimed. “An’ I got practice tryin’ ta tamp ‘em down so I knew they were real!”

“I mean when we were kids! I didn’ realize you were a girl back then but it looks like I was kinda right about that in the end!” Ranma was still confused exactly how that worked but he could deal with figuring it out later. “But what about me? Was I girly or somethin’?”

“Ranchan I know less ‘bout bein' a girl than a fish knows about climbin’ trees: I thought my Pops jus’ foun' me another ‘tomboy’ ta hang out with.” And just like that relief coursed through Ranma's veins. As long as Ukyo didn't think he was girly he could handle being confused for a girl.

“Well...awright then, I guess that makes us even.”

The two teens were left in silence. Ranma shifted uncomfortably under Ukyo's intense gaze. He must have been disgusted the way he kept focusing on Ranma's shoulders and biceps and—

“Uh…hey Ucchan can you go get some cold water?” Ranma was sitting ramrod straight in the hopes he didn't accidentally tear Mrs. Hana’s dress. With the hot water he was already unsure she'd be able to return it.

“Yeah…sure thing Ranchan.” The okonomiyaki chef robotically rose to his feet.

Finally Ranma could catch his breath. His body felt wrong, not just because of the bra sinking into his chest and making it feel unyielding and enormous, or how much space he was taking up. All the weird ways he normally felt when something made him self-conscious about his girl form. He'd get back into it and turn back into a guy later when it wouldn't be weird.

It didn't take long for Ukyo to return sloshing a full bucket. “Whaddya want me ta do with it?”

“Jus’ pour it on me until I chaAAAANGE!” Ukyo turned the bucket upside-down, not just splashing but drenching Ranma in frigid water. She wasn't looking forward to jumping around in a soaking wet dress.

“Wow…” Once again Ranma felt Ukyo's eyes scanning her entire body, but she'd had her girl form long enough to know his justification was less than pure, and probably related to how the dress was clinging to her figure.

“Okay, break’s over. Let's go rescue Asami.” Ranma pulled herself to her feet and straightened herself up.

Ukyo's mind spun as he led Ranma to the duel. Obviously she…he…she? Obviously Ranma didn't want to be carried, Ukyo got that, but he was still impressed that his childhood friend could keep up with him. He guessed Ranma's idiot of a father could do something right.

Of course, that's not what Ukyo was thinking about.

He was thinking about the curse. And Ranma. But mostly the curse. Ranchan fell into a girl spring, her Pops fell into a panda spring. Ranma implied there were more. 

Was there a boy spring?

Unfortunately he couldn't indulge in thinking about that for long: they had arrived.

It was a back alley. Two-story restaurants and shops on one side, homes on the other. Plenty of nooks and crannies to duck into and the mingling aromas of different kinds of cuisine provided the perfect olfactory orchestra for their food-based fights.

“Okay Myōjin, hand over the girl!” Ukyo demanded as soon as he and Ranma arrived. Hayato was standing in his usual spot in the middle of the alley, arms crossed. He wore his typical dueling attire, a dramatically tiled white and navy blue jacket, a headband keeping his bangs out of his face tied in a bow, and…

“Buddy…yer still wearing that mask?” Ukyo groaned. “It’s been four years, I said sorry so many times!”

He was still wearing the octopus mask. It still looked ridiculous.

“Screw you, Kuonji! I won’t take it off until I’ve had my revenge!” He’d gotten very good at wearing it: his voice projected very well. “And I’ll be taking it today! I’m not the same takoyaki chef you fought six weeks ago!”

“Eight.”

“What?”

“Our last fight was…well almost two months ago.” Ukyo rubbed his temples. “At the, uh, Catholic church thing in Okazaki.”

“You’re forgetting the conflict two weeks later at the Azalea Festival in Toyokawa.” Myōjin reminded him sharply.

“Hogwash, that was an ordinary business dispute!”

“Hey y’all, I’d love for ya ta catch up an’ everything but Asami an’ I have somewhere ta be…?” Ranma interjected. Ukyo almost forgot she was there.

“Ranma?” Asami jumped out from behind a corner, looking perfectly healthy but very bothered. “What are you doing here?”

“Rescuin’ you, dummy! Or at least that’s what I thought!” Ranma snapped, which didn’t seem to help Asami’s disposition. Ukyo wondered exactly what their relationship…wait, did Asami know about Ranma?

“You weren’t supposed to be here!” Ukyo and Hayato shared an exasperated look as the girls yelled at each other. “You were supposed to deliver the challenge to Ukyo and let him bring me back!”

“That’s stupid, why would I do that?” Ranma’s face went red. “You know I’m a martial artist, of course I’m gonna show up!”

“No, you’re stupid, your makeup is ruined!” Asami got Ranma on the back foot, and she looked to Ukyo for help. He just smirked.

“Naw, she’s right Ranchan, I told ya ta stay back.”

“But…I ain’t gonna abandon my friends, that’s not the kinda guyyyyy-irl I am!” The double-take Ranma gave Asami in the middle of her sentence answered Ukyo’s earlier question at least.

“No, you’re just the kind of girl who calls her friends stupid and refuses to listen to them!” Asami stamped her foot and looked like she was about to cry.

Unsurprisingly, Ranma started to stammer, wordlessly panicking. He must be a guy after all.

“Look girls, why donch’all take a seat an’ let us gentlemen take care of our business,” Ukyo nodded to Hayato and winked at Asami and Ranma. Both turned red, though Ranma seemed ready to kill him.

“That’s right, I’ve got a new method for mixing the batter that keeps it firm yet airy.” In a flash, Hayato threw down his portable grill pan and fired it up. “Not to mention it works wonderfully as ammunition.”

“I may not have any big city fancy tricks like you but I ain’t been sittin’ on my laurels neither!” Ukyo responded in kind and with his own portable griddle.

Chefs locked eyes as their audience — and customers — looked on. “We don't gotta stay for this, right?” Ranma asked.

Three sets of eyes locked onto her. “You didn't explain the rules to her on the way over?” Hayato chided Ukyo, who winced.

“...I was distracted.” He mumbled with an apologetic look at Ranma. “Look it's simple: to determine the strongest, tastiest food we need judges, customers. Y'all gonna reap th’ rewards of our cuisine an’ tell us who's the best.”

“Assuming you can even finish your meal,” Hayato smirked viciously. “Oofushi-san told me why you'd be ‘distractible’ during our duel.” If he thought he was being coy the fact that he was staring directly at Ranma made it pretty obvious what he was talking about.

“Look, Ranchan may be the prettie—hmmm,” a different approach was needed. “Ranchan showin’ up today was a surprise but I'm a chef first’n foremost, ain't nothin’ gonna change that!” Hopefully the girls thought he was dashing, but he had to commit to the bit and triumphantly point at the sky. “Get ready ta taste more great okonomiyaki, gals!” He gave them a heartbeat-length glance of acknowledgement. “An’ you get ready ta taste defeat!”

Flames erupted beneath their hands and the duel was on. 

Ranma didn't know what she did wrong. Asami got mad at her and…willingly got kidnapped, maybe? What was that about? It was affirming, really: Ranma didn't have to worry that she was becoming more girly because she wasn't behaving all crazy over some cute boy. Just wait until Asami found out he wasn't even…

Well, no, he was. Naoki mentioned he had friends like Ukyo. He insisted, impressed upon Ranma that a person was what they felt inside. Which is the same thing Ukyo said earlier.

She still hadn't really gotten used to the idea that Ukyo used to think she was a girl. And that she thought he was a boy. Even though he ended up a boy, but it sounds like he didn't know that for sure back when they were six.

Regardless, Asami was crazy. But Ranma didn't want to lose one of her friends so she supposed she'd have to figure out exactly what she did wrong and make it up to Asami somehow.

Then the boys began their duel.

Two skilled rivals competing one-on-one was the platonic ideal of martial arts to Ranma and Ukyo and Hayato were clearly experts in whatever street food-based martial art they practiced. And they were good.

Ukyo made the first move, flinging a spatula at Hayato’s cutting board, currently covered in octopus. Ranma thought it was going to slice the board in two before the takoyaki chef snatched the thrown weapon out of the air and sent it right back at Ukyo.

He also caught it with a dazzling grin. “Nice one Myōjin.”

“Playing footsy? Normally you've already resorted to those salty pieces of grass you call bonito flakes.” Ranma's eyes widened. Trash talk, probing each others' defenses? This was gonna be a real fight!

After a minute or two of calm Hayato made the next move and lobbed a burst of raw takoyaki balls at Ukyo, who blocked with his oversized spatula. He quickly incorporated them into an enormous okonomiyaki disc and spun it back at Hayato who barely managed to deflect it with a burst of fire from his propane tank.

Ranma grabbed Asami and leapt back to make sure they wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire. Ranma didn’t expect her to make a fuss about it. “Put me down!” Asami angrily shrieked.

“What? I didn’t want you to get hurt!” Ranma protested. Was Asami really getting angry at her for helping?

“You didn’t have a problem with that earlier…” she scoffed right as Ukyo lashed out at his rival with an impossibly long mass of yakisoba.

Ranma desperately wanted to watch the battle unfold but her pride couldn’t let Asami’s comment go. “What are ya talkin’ about, ‘Sami!?”

“The only person here who’s hurt me at all is you!” She whirled about and poked Ranma on the forehead. “You ignored me and said I was crazy and you’re acting like you didn’t do anything wrong!” A flash of heat and light from Ukyo quick-toasting a set of knife-sharp spatulas accompanied Asami’s words.

“I didn’t— I never said you were—...” Words kept failing Ranma: this wasn’t her kind of battle. She should be throwing bonito flakes like Hayato and retaliating with tempura pow—scratch that, tempura powder mixed with gunpowder, apparently. That was her expertise. She still wasn’t even sure what Asami was mad about.

“And then you turn around and say you don’t want me to get hurt. Well guess what, Ranma: I don’t want to see you get hurt either!” Asami was on the verge of tears, Ranma guessed the risk of her mascara running was keeping her in check. Ranma hated that she knew that.

“I…I don’t need to be protected! I can handle myself!” Asami’d seen the awesome stuff Ranma was capable of, how tough Ranma was. Almost like the universe wanted to prove her right, she caught a stray takoyaki pellet from the fight and flicked it back at Hayato with nearly twice as much force.

Asami wasn’t impressed. “Obviously, Ranma, I get that you’re an amazing martial artist and the coolest—one of the coolest girls I know…” she looked away, embarrassed. “And maybe I overstepped! And maybe you’re right and I got jealous that you’re getting all this attention from cute boys: I get it, you’re gorgeous and you don’t even know it.”

She sighed and looked back at Ranma, who definitely didn’t have any wetness gathering in her eyes. “I just wanted to help.” And like that, Ranma felt her heart upend itself into her stomach as the pangs of guilt wracked her nervous system.

Whether it was the fight happening in the background, exposure to previous attempts by Asami, or just adapting to being a girl most of the time, Ranma didn't immediately fold like a cheap tent.

“Asami, I…didn't realize that's what you were tryin’ to do. Next time I'll make sure not ta snap when ya try ta help me.” Ranma flashed a smile and bowed right as some of Ukyo’s yakisoba lashed where her body would have been and cracked the wall. It took all of her willpower not to rush into the fight.

“Pfft, don’t bow dummy, you look like a nerd.” Ranma raised her head as Asami giggled. “You really were raised as some sorta traveling martial artist, huh?”

Scratching the back of her head and letting out a few awkward chuckles of her own, Ranma stood up straight. “I mean…yeah, pretty much.”

“I’m…I’m sorry I said you were like a boy, that was rude. Hug?” Asami wrapped her arms around Ranma without waiting for a response. The other girl was only a few centimeters taller than Ranma, so she was able to shoot Ukyo a panicked look. Without skipping a beat, the okonomiyaki chef rolled his eyes, pantomimed Ranma hugging her back, and deflected a barrage of takoyaki balls with a spin of his spatula.

Ranma gulped and returned the hug, feeling the tension spill out of Asami’s body. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but relax into it as well, hopeful that they would still be friends. They stayed like that for a while, until one of the boys coughed impatiently.

The tattered, beaten chefs held steaming platters of street food. “Please…enjoy!” they said in unison, bowing and thrusting the fruits of their labor toward the girls.

“Oh thank goodness, I’m starving.” Asami grabbed a pair of chopsticks out of Hayato’s hand and popped a takoyaki in her mouth, letting out an undignified moan. “It’s…it’s so good!”

Not willing to let her friend’s work go to waste, Ranma grabbed chopsticks from Ukyo and dug a hefty chunk of okonomiyaki off the plate. It was fine. Better than fine, actually: it was great! But it wasn’t as good as the one she’d had earlier.

They sampled both dishes and the chefs backed away, patiently awaiting judgment.

Ranma and Asami looked at each other at a loss for words. “What’re we s’posed ta say?” Ranma whispered.

“I don’t know, but I liked the takoyaki better. I kinda want to say the okonomiyaki is better though ‘cause Ukyo is cute.” Asami confessed shamelessly.

“Wait, no, say the takoyaki’s better.” Ranma turned so the chefs couldn’t read her lips. “That way Ucchan hasta work at impressin’ ya more.”

Asami’s lips quivered in hesitation. “I don’t know…but I guess I do like the takoyaki better. What about you?”

Ranma shrugged. “Ucchan forgot the scallops, plus I already had one earlier. The takoyaki does have scallops in it.” She kept to herself that she didn’t want to give Hayato the win since he kidnapped one of her friends, even if it seemed like Asami wasn’t in any real danger. “But I think they were both pretty good. Whatever you choose I’ll be good with.”

Nodding, Asami pondered a moment longer before turning to the chefs. “Okay! We’ve made our decision.” Grinning, she pointed to Hayato. “We liked the takoyaki better.”

“Yes! Hah! I told you takoyaki was stronger!” Myōjin raised his arms in triumph as Ukyo visibly deflated. “I’ll be at your place Friday to collect my reward!” He scooped up his portable griddle and leapt away, laughing victoriously the whole time.

“Wha? How? He kidnapped you!” Ukyo shot an accusatory glare at Asami. She took a step back but Ranma put a hand on her shoulder and smirked. The gesture filled her with confidence.

“I liked the crispiness of the takoyaki better, plus you didn’t put scallops in the okonomiyaki.” She stated confidently.

“Uggghhhh…fine.” The girls giggled, which just made him pout harder. “Y’all don’ understand what I gotta put up with ‘til the next time we fight though. Inflated his ego somethin’ fierce, I tell you what.”

“Sorry Ucchan. But now you gotta carry Asami back to the weddin’!” Ranma crossed her arms. “Her family’s already worried enough as-is.”

Asami looked surprised but Ranma practically forced her into Ukyo’s arms. “What? I can’t carry someone in this dress. I’ll help ya pick up your cart when we get back though to make up for lost time.”

The pavilion was already being converted for the wedding reception by the time Ranma and Ukyo got back. The chef’s yatai remained intact and unmolested at least. “Awright Saotome, why’s yer friend not in on yer secret?” Ukyo asked almost as soon as they were out of earshot while they started packing up the cart.

Ranma sighed. She wasn’t sure where to start, but it was a fair question. “It’s a long story Ucchan. I had a bad experience in middle school an’ when Pops wanted to send me to high school I didn’t wanna do it as a boy to avoid it happenin’ again. Plus, well, I kinda showed up as a girl on accident when I went to sign up.” She tossed a handful of utensils into a drawer.

“Ain’t it stressful, livin’ as a girl? Must not feel good ta have folks referrin’ to ya as somethin’ yer not.” Ranma missed Ukyo’s sidelong glance to gauge her reaction.

Her reaction to a very fair question at that. But she shrugged. “Nah, hard part’s switchin’ outta the mindset at the end of the day. Everyone I’m stayin’ with is great at treatin’ me right, an’ they all know, but I go to school with two of ‘em so it’s an adjustment when I get back to their place.”

Ukyo didn’t respond for a moment. “...I went through somethin’ similar actually.” He chuckled. Ranma didn’t know what that was about but she was glad her friend wasn’t still upset.

“So yer Pops turns into a panda, you turn into a girl. How many springs are at that place?” The conversation switched to a new topic, much to Ranma’s relief.

“I dunno, dozens? All sorts a’ different ones. Duck, pig, cat, some real weird ones too.” Ranma wondered if her life would have been different if she’d fallen into the Spring of Drowned Asura. Probably. “We tried takin’ a dip in the Spring of Drowned Boy, hoped maybe the curses would cancel each other out, but the Guide told us that’s not how it worked.”

Chopsticks clattered to the ground, Ukyo stood frozen. “Drowned…Boy, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Some of ‘em jus’ do mental changes which sounds real scary.” Giggling, Ranma finished wrapping up a brace of spatulas. “So if yer ever there be careful.”

“Heh heh…yeah.” Ukyo didn’t ask any more questions after that.

Hours later, Ranma swung open the front door to the Tendo home and kicked off her shoes. “I’m back!” she called out. The house smelled good, but it was late and she just wanted to change back and enjoy a few minutes of guy time after such a girly day. Especially after the huge mistake she made during the wedding.

How was she supposed to know catching a handful of flowers was a big deal? Western traditions were weird.

She was almost bowled over by all three Tendo brothers as they piled into the hallway. “Ranma!” Akio shouted.

“How’d it go?” Naoki inquired.

“Do you need anything?” Katsumi offered.

Ranma’s eyes were wide as saucers as Mrs. Hana came to the rescue. “Shoo, boys, shoo! Ranma had a long day, go heat up some food.” The Tendo matriarch smiled, took Ranma’s purse, and practically escorted her to the furo where a set of her Chinese silks awaited. “Nothing bad happened today, I hope?”

“Asami got kidnapped but I saved her. Helped with all the judgy old ladies.” Ranma smugly grinned as she recalled the looks on the elders’ faces as Asami recounted Ranma’s heroics, slightly altered to give her the credit instead of Ukyo.

“Well…that’s good.” Hana responded uncertainly.

After a long soak in the tub Ranma emerged from the bathroom and made his way to the living room. “Pops!” he exclaimed when he saw Genma waiting for him with a smile. “You’re never gonna guess who I ran into.”

“Oh? Someone I know?” His father slid over a bowl of rice, pork belly, and pickled vegetables.

“Yeah! You remember Kuonji Ukyo? Okonomiyaki cart?” Ranma started shoveling food into his mouth, he hadn’t eaten since the contest. He was so hungry he didn’t even pause when Genma dropped his own bowl in shock.

“Kuonji? Ritsu’s girl?”

“Yeah! I found out Ukyo was—” Ranma narrowed his eyes. “Wait you knew she was a girl back then? And you let me hang out with her?”

“You didn’t know she was a girl?” Genma tilted his head.

“No! But she thought I was!”

“Huh. Did you have a crush on her?”

Ranma turned bright red but pivoted as Naoki walked by. “Uhhh…hey, Naoki! I ran into a friend of mine today who used to be a girl when we were kids, but now he’s a boy. You were sayin’ you had friends like that, right?”

The middle Tendo son froze midstep and flashed a smile at Ranma. “No kidding? Saves me having to explain stuff.”

Genma looked confused but moved on. “I actually owe Kuonji-san quite a bit of money, but I couldn’t find him to pay him. You didn’t by chance get their number or an address did you?”

Ranma nodded and went to grab a slip of paper out of his pur—the purse that he borrowed. On it was Ukyo’s information, which he handed to his father and went back to eating. Genma sighed and gave Ranma a qualified smirk. “Well, I’ll give him a call. Sorry in advance if this cuts into your allowance for a while.”

Ranma paused long enough to pout before returning to his meal.