Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Small rays of light began to seep into the dawn, slowly pushing back the darkness until it faded into a timid sunrise. For most, it was still far too early, but for a few, this was already the start of their routine. The clock struck 5:30 and, a second later, the alarm confirmed it with its grating—yet necessary—beep. A hand fell upon the clock, silencing it instantly.

"How I regret buying that thing last week," Ranma muttered, still half-asleep, lazily pulling himself up into a sitting position on the bed.

He yawned and ran a hand over his face.

"Though, well... at least the trip to Fujinomiya was fun."

The previous week, he had gone to the city to meet his mother. She had insisted on seeing him after nearly a year apart. Ranma had made it clear long ago that there would be no visits to Ashikawa: he feared that old ghosts from his past might follow him to his new home, and besides... he still didn't fully trust her. That was why they agreed to meet only in nearby cities; this time, it was Fujinomiya’s turn.

His mother had been excited to visit the Fujisan Hongu Sengen Shrine, and for Ranma, it was pleasant to spend time with her and hear how she was doing. He appreciated her attempts to be the mother she could never be during his adolescence. But the fact that she remained married to Genma—and worse, that she defended him every time Ranma said something negative about him—was a barrier he still couldn't ignore. Later, they had passed by an electronics store, where he ended up buying the dreaded alarm.

—BEEP BEEP BEEP—

Ranma silenced it again in a flash—how he hated that sound—but as he looked down at his hand, he realized he had completely crushed the clock.

"Dammit... now I'll have to buy another one."

He shook his hand, brushing off the scraps of the device that had stuck to him. Then he sighed, looking at the mess on the nightstand.

"Well... at least now I have an excuse to go back to Fujinomiya this weekend and get out of Michiko's plans.”

He stood up, stretched until his back gave a long crack, and prepared to start the day.

Ranma went out to the backyard for his morning training before getting ready for work. Since adopting a quieter, more domestic life, he had lost the habit of rising so early, hence the idea of buying an alarm. He no longer possessed that almost sickly obsession with martial arts; they didn't even rank among his favorite hobbies anymore. He had learned to find more enjoyment in reading, playing the piano, or painting.

Even so, the martial arts continued to give him something irreplaceable: clarity. Staying in shape mattered, of course, but what was essential was the meditation. It helped him quiet intrusive thoughts, bring order to his mind, and make better decisions.

He returned to the house, went to the bathroom, dropped his clothes in the hamper, and stepped into the shower.

Minutes later, he was dressed: brown trousers, a white shirt with the collar unbuttoned, and a black jacket. He sat at the small desk in his room, where he finished reviewing some pending grades and quickly went over the day's lesson. Then he tucked everything into his brown satchel and checked the clock: 6:30 a.m. A smile played across his lips.

He took his somewhat worn-out bicycle, left the house, and set off for work.

He loved waking up this early to enjoy the stillness of the morning. It always reminded him of his first year at university, when one of his professors said that children understood stories better as they learned to understand the world around them; therefore, as future educators, they too had to comprehend that world if they wished to guide them. 

Back then, Ranma wondered if he truly understood anything at all. To him, the world was an incomplete puzzle: there were so many things he couldn't process, from the social to the emotional. If he couldn't even make sense of the basics around him, how did he intend to understand—and teach—more abstract concepts? He knew he had to change.

And he did. He spent years not only studying, but learning how to live—how to feel, to observe, to allow himself to understand. Little by little, the world began to fall into place in his mind.

Because of that, he could now fully enjoy that morning ride through Ashikawa, pedaling in perfect calm beneath a gentle sun that was only just beginning to wake the townspeople.

Life truly was good.

And there was no one who could make him think otherwise.

Ranma arrived at the school shortly after sunrise. He left his bicycle leaning beside the others, in the same familiar jumble as always, making sure it wasn’t blocking the walkway before heading toward the main building.

He pushed open the front door, and the dull clang of metal echoed softly down the hallway. Inside, the air smelled of fresh disinfectant and old paper. The corridor lights were only half on, casting long shadows across the polished floor as his footsteps broke the stillness. There were not many souls in the building yet; as was customary, most teachers tended to arrive at least half an hour before classes began.

At that hour of the day, there were usually only four teachers already inside the building: Himari, the art teacher; Hiroki, in charge of physical education; Shinji, the music teacher, and

“I don’t think these are the hours you’re supposed to be arriving at work, Professor Kaiyo.”

The voice stopped him mid-step.

Ranma turned on his heel and found Yua, the science teacher, leaning casually against one of the corridor’s columns. She was wearing a long cream-colored skirt and an olive-green knit sweater that contrasted with her black hair, loosely gathered into a low ponytail. She held a folder hugged to her chest, while her other hand rested naturally on her hip. She was smiling, clearly pleased to see him.

“Ten for the seven” Ranma replied, adjusting the strap of his bag as he glanced at his watch. “Classes don’t start for more than an hour.”

Yua tilted her head, looking him up and down.

“Every time I arrive, you’re already here.” She took a couple of steps toward him, amused. “What kind of distraction kept you so busy that you didn’t arrive so early today? It wasn’t a woman… was it?”

Ranma sighed. Yua’s jealousy… again.

“Where is this sudden interest in my private life coming from?”

“Oh, it’s not sudden,” she said, lightly flicking the folder. “Michiko has been talking. Apparently, you were seen with one of the mothers of your second-grade students last week. You looked quite close. What was the girl’s name again? Ta… ta…”

“Tayaka,” he corrected her at once. “And no, nothing happened. I called her in because her daughter hasn’t turned in her kanji practice. That’s three times in a row over the past month. That was all.”

“You have an impressive track record with the parents at this school.”

“I just want those children to have the best education possible. It’s my responsibility as a teacher to look out for both their academic interests and their well-being.”

“Seriously, Kaiyo, I don’t understand how you’re still single.”

Damn it—there were the compliments again.

“I already have more than enough with Michiko keeping tabs on my love life as it is. I don’t need you doing it too.”

Yua let out a soft laugh and shook her head.

“Relax, relax. My interests lie elsewhere, handsome.”

“No, Yua,” he muttered, covering his forehead with one hand. “Not again.”

She, however, had already drifted into her own world. She stood still in the middle of the hallway, eyes shining, her smile widening as she spoke in a dreamy voice.

“Come on, Kaiyo… haven’t you ever thought about us? Just imagine it.” She closed her eyes. “You and me at the top of Mount Fuji, the cold wind lifting my hair, the sky painted in oranges and pinks as the sun sets. We’re holding each other, sharing a warm thermos, looking down at the world from up there… just you and me, and then—”

Ranma had already headed toward the shokuinshitsu the moment she began her wordy tirade. It was incredible that even in a town like Ashikawa he couldn’t escape people like that. It seemed Nerima wasn’t the only place filled with such peculiar characters.

Exactly one minute later, Yua finished speaking. She opened her eyes and didn’t see Ranma anywhere. She looked up, down, to the sides—he was gone. She blinked, disoriented, and then spotted a silhouette a few meters away, walking briskly toward the teachers’ lounge.

“Kaiyo!” she called, stretching out her arm. 

“Hey, don’t leave me here talking to myself—at least tell me it doesn’t sound like a really good idea!”

Ranma heard the hurried tapping of Yua’s footsteps approaching from behind.

“Kaiyo, stop for a moment!”

If there’s any higher being up there, please… let the ground open up and swallow her right now. 

“Kaiyo, wait for me!”

I’m begging you.

But luck was not on his side. The ground remained still, indifferent to his prayers, and Yua eventually caught up to him.

They had both already arrived at the teachers’ lounge. A vein on Ranma’s forehead was visibly bulging after spending the last few minutes listening—without any chance of escape—to all of Yua’s ramblings about a hypothetical “them.” Now, at last, he would be rid of her.

He went in first, walked straight to his desk, and dropped his bag beside the chair. He sat down, yanked the zipper open, and began pulling out notebooks and exams, arranging them on the desk while Yua kept talking behind him.

“Even though I appreciate your company, Yua,” he said without looking at her, flipping through a stack of tests, “I need to review some pending grades and a few notes for this afternoon’s class.”

Yua wore an irritated expression.

“You just want to get rid of me,” she shot back, frowning. “I’m sure you didn’t even pay attention to the things I told you.”

Ranma looked up for barely a second, resting one elbow on the desk.

“Which one?” he asked wearily. “The one about us enjoying the sunset on Mount Fuji? The stroll along the Otaru Canal in Hokkaido? Or the possible honeymoon in Osaka?” He paused and shook his head. “Seriously, Yua… Osaka?”

“And what’s wrong with Osaka?”

“If your idea of a honeymoon is partying all night, hopping from club to club and bar to bar, and eating until you burst,” he replied as he marked something with his pen, “then you’d be better off taking Haruto with you.”

Yua jumped back slightly

“Haruto?!”

“He’s the one who likes going from party to party.”

“But I want to go with you!”

“Too bad I don’t want to go with you,” he answered without lifting his gaze, moving on to the next page.

Yua clicked her tongue.

“You’re boring, you know that?”

“Of course I am,” he replied calmly. “That’s the whole reason I moved to a place like this in the first place. You’re the one who doesn’t fit in here. If you like the city so much, why don’t you go live there instead?”

She pressed her lips together, lowering her voice.

“I won’t find anyone like you there.”

Ranma paused for a moment, lifted his pen, and glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

“Believe me, Yua,” he said firmly, “there are plenty of guys like me—even better ones. You’ll find someone who shares your peculiar tastes. You’ll see.”

He turned his attention back to the exams.

Without saying a word, Yua extended her free hand and placed it directly over the papers Ranma was reviewing, covering them.

“Yua,” he warned, frowning, “I need to have this ready before this afternoon.”

“Look at me,” she asked.

“Yua…”

“Please.”

Ranma closed his eyes for a second, sighed, and turned his chair until he was facing her.

“All right,” he said at last. “Make it quick.”

Yua removed her hand from the desk and held his gaze without blinking.

“Why are you like this?”

“Hm?” he replied, tilting his head.

“You’re the only person in this place who has no interest in anything after classes,” she continued. “You don’t go out, you don’t spend time with your coworkers, you’re always alone.”

“Yua”

“It seems like nothing interests you beyond the children in this school,” she cut in. “You don’t live for anything else.”

“It’s my job,” he replied seriously. “I want what’s best for them.”

“I know,” she said more softly, “and that’s one of the things I like most about you. But it wouldn’t hurt to let someone into your life… or at least spend time with more people. You need friends. We all do.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t want them? Since I arrived here, I never gave any sign that suggested I wanted to spend time together or form friendships with any of you. I don’t even know how Michiko and you have been paying so much attention to me all the time—especially this past month.”

“Is that why you’ve been so unpleasant lately?”

Shit. He hadn’t expected that response. It seemed he had finally worn down Yua’s patience. Had he really been behaving like that over the past few weeks? One thing was not wanting to socialize with others; quite another was being openly rude to people.

“Hey…”

“Look,” she said suddenly. She placed the folder she had been holding onto Ranma’s desk, opened it, and took out a pencil. Then she grabbed a small blank slip of paper and began to write carefully.

“Midori no Hi starts next Wednesday” she explained as she finished writing. “I’d like you to come with me. Here’s my number.”

She left the paper on the desk, right in front of him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ranma replied after looking at it for a few seconds.

“I’m not asking you to come with me as a date,” she clarified, closing the folder. “I’m asking you to come with me as a friend. I think it would do you good to go at least once.”

“I…”

“You don’t have to answer now,” she interrupted. “Just think about it. Call me when you have an answer.”

Ranma followed her with his eyes as Yua walked toward the exit. Just before leaving, she turned and shot him one last look over her shoulder.

“Even someone like you needs to break out of their routine once in a while, Saotome.”

And with that, she disappeared from view.

The way she had spoken his surname sent a chill through him. It reminded him of a little brown-haired she-devil from his adolescence.

Now he was alone. He picked up the slip of paper that had been left on the desk and tucked it into the pocket of his jacket. Maybe visiting old Matsunaga after classes would do him some good. Perhaps he could offer him a different perspective.

You’re boring, you know that?

Ranma looked at the exams still waiting to be graded. Any desire to continue was completely gone. He stood up from his desk, pushed the chair back, and went in search of coffee.

The sound of the bell announcing the start of classes echoed through the hallways. Students began heading to their respective classrooms, and by the time the ringing stopped, Ranma was already stepping into the second-grade classroom for his lesson.

The moment he crossed the threshold, all the students stood up almost in unison.

“Good morning,” Ranma greeted them, setting his bag down against the desk.

“Good morning, Professor!” the children replied, bowing in unison.

Ranma nodded, signaling for them to take their seats. He then placed his things on the desk, took out the attendance folder, and opened it carefully before sitting down. He ran his eyes over the list and began calling out each student’s name.

“Akari… Aoi… Itsuki… Kenji… Souta… Nanami… Hana…”

Each of the twenty-five children answered when they heard their name.

Ranma made a mark beside each one and closed the folder with a soft thud. And with that, the morning classes began.

During the first two periods, Ranma reviewed math content with his students, and in the last two they focused on social studies and life studies. Between exercises, explanations, and questions, time passed faster than it seemed.

In the blink of an eye, it was already lunchtime.

Ranma headed straight to the teachers’ lounge. He still hadn’t finished grading the pending exams and had barely managed to eat an apple. The last two periods of the afternoon would be devoted entirely to his specialty, Japanese language, and he still had several tests from the previous week left to grade. He could only hope that this time Tayaka would turn in her overdue assignments. His conversation with his mother hadn’t left him entirely at ease; there was something about the situation that truly unsettled him, and he would have to look into it more deeply.

He felt a few sharp knocks on the lounge door. Ranma lifted his head from the exams and turned his chair with a faint creak. In the doorway stood Naruhito, the fourth-grade teacher, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“I know you’re not very keen on interacting with the others, but Michiko needs you in her office,” she said, folding her arms.

Ranma frowned and shifted in his chair.

“At this hour?” he asked, setting his pen down on the desk. “What does she want?”

“If it’s not about your love life, I have no idea what it could be.”

Ranma shook his head slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Maybe she wants to talk to you about the mother you called in last week,” Naruhito added, shrugging.

Ranma froze for a second and looked up, his frown deepening.

“Michiko wasn’t there when I called her in,” he said. “Who the hell told her and started spreading it around?”

Naruhito raised an eyebrow, as if the answer were obvious.

“I think we both know the answer to that.”

Both of them spoke at the same time:

“Haruto.”

Ranma exhaled heavily and stood up.

“All right…” he said as he picked up the folder and closed it. “I’ll go see her right now. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Good luck, Kaiyo,” Naruhito replied, turning to leave.

You’re boring....

“Hey, Naruhito,” Ranma called out before he walked away.

The other man stopped and glanced back over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

Ranma hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Do you think I’m… boring?”

Naruhito studied him for a few seconds, thoughtful, then shrugged.

“I’d say you’re more… routine-driven.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Ranma asked, frowning.

“You already know what it means,” 

Naruhito replied without stopping, continuing down the hallway.

Ranma remained there for a few more seconds, letting out a resigned sigh. 

Finally, he straightened the papers on the desk, left his jacket hanging over the back of the chair, and left the room, heading toward the principal’s office.

A few minutes passed. Before reaching his destination, Ranma detoured just enough to pour himself one last cup of coffee. He was already close, and he could only hope Michiko hadn’t called him over for nothing but gossip. It wouldn’t have been the first time—but right now, he had no patience for that. All he wanted was to get back to his desk, finish grading those exams, and focus on the afternoon class.

He stopped dead when he looked up. In the distance, Michiko was striding toward him at a brisk pace. Her face wore an expression that looked… excited?

Damn. This is not good.

He should run. Escape. If he hurried, he could reach the exit and leave everything behind; all he had to do was

“My dear Kaiyo! You’re finally here!”

Shit.

“Michiko, what the…? Mmph!”

He didn’t even get to finish the sentence. Michiko lunged at him and wrapped her arms around him with unexpected strength. Ranma froze in surprise as several heads nearby turned to watch the scene. The warmth of the embrace and the curious stares made the situation oddly uncomfortable… and embarrassing.

“I-I’m… happy to see you too,” he murmured, having no idea where to put his hands.

“I knew this day would come!” she exclaimed, squeezing him a bit tighter before finally pulling away.

Ranma frowned.

“What…? What are you talking about?”

Michiko inhaled slowly, stepping close enough to shamelessly sniff him.

“And you’re wearing nice cologne,” she remarked with a smile. “So you came prepared, huh?”

Okay. He was completely lost. The day had already gone from strange to confusing… though the strange part was clearly still very much there.

“Can you tell me what the hell you called me for?” he said, crossing his arms, trying to regain some semblance of control.

“There’s no time! Let’s go!”

Without giving him a choice, Michiko broke contact and grabbed his arm, tugging him forward decisively. Ranma stumbled slightly before matching her pace as she dragged him toward the office.

“At least tell me what this is about!” he protested, trying to pull free.

“I can’t say.”

“Tell me!” he insisted, no longer hiding his irritation.

“All right, all right!” she finally relented, turning her head toward him as they walked. “Two lovely young ladies are waiting for you in my office. They asked to see you.”

Ranma fell silent for a second, processing. Of all the absurd possibilities he might have imagined, this had never crossed his mind. The suspicion that Michiko had orchestrated the whole thing only worsened his mood; he could feel his patience wearing dangerously thin.

“Are you serious?!” he exclaimed, stopping short. In moments like this, Ranma wished from the bottom of his heart that his father were nearby—so he could take all his anger out on him instead.

“Hey!” Michiko pointed at him, amused. "This is very important.”

“Did you really interrupt me from grading exams for something like this?!” he raised his voice.

She answered with a light laugh, as if none of it were a big deal.

“Oh, come on, Kaiyo. Don’t be such a killjoy.” she said as she picked up her pace again. “Maybe it’s time you stopped living only for your students. Who knows… perhaps these young ladies will manage to pull you out of your routine.”

They reached the door. Before he could reply, Michiko opened it and practically shoved him inside.

As he entered, Ranma first noticed a young woman with round glasses, her expression visibly nervous. Beside her, a little taller, was

…NABIKI?!

Too many things had happened in that span of time: the silent contest between him and Nabiki to see who would lose their composure first; the moment Ranma had come to believe his hand was dirty; how he ended up completely soaked because of Nabiki’s assistant; and, to top it all off, Michiko suggesting he go out with both of them—while explaining that Haruto would take care of grading the pending exams and cover the last two afternoon periods.

When they finally left the school grounds, Nabiki instructed her assistant to go to the car and wait there. Then she tried to lead Ranma to a more secluded spot. Apparently, all of this had something to do with Matsunaga’s ryokan, and for some reason, Ranma played an important role in the matter… though he still didn’t understand exactly what that role was.

“All right, Saotome… ten years have passed,” Nabiki said, crossing her arms. Her tone was calm, but heavy with intent. “I suppose you have a few questions.”

I have more than just questions, Nabiki.

“Questions? I have plenty. But before you start with all the preamble… tell me, right now, what do you need me for?”

He preferred to know the answer immediately rather than give Nabiki the upper hand and allow her to handle everything her way, armed with information he needed to know. The last conversation they’d had ten years ago, in his bedroom, was still vivid in his mind. The very last thing he wanted was to face fire and apocalypse again by letting Nabiki do things her way.

And yet, a part of him couldn’t stop thinking about it: maybe she was there… at least in part… because of him. It was too much of a coincidence that she would appear in that very place. Didn’t that have to mean something? Maybe—just maybe—she truly cared.

I thought… I thought we were friends.

Maybe…

“Saotome…”

“No beating around the bush,” he cut in firmly.

Nabiki let out a resigned sigh.

She explained that she intended to buy Matsunaga’s ryokan and that, given the relationship Ranma had with the old man, she needed him to be the one to convince him to sell it to her. A deep disappointment settled over Ranma.

Of course. Same thing again. She only needed him for business. It was always like this: every time he thought Nabiki genuinely wanted to spend time with him, it turned out to be just business. In the end, as a person, he meant nothing to her. Ten years later, and this was all she had called him for.

Friends? I can’t believe you’d think that after all this time living under the same roof. You really don’t know me at all. 

No—he truly didn’t know her. He never had.

Ranma stepped away from her, walking off in the opposite direction.

“And where exactly are you going?”

“To eat,” he replied without stopping. “There’s a restaurant a few blocks from here that serves amazing ramen. If you want to keep talking, you’ll have to come with me first. Besides, I haven’t eaten since this morning. I’m hungry.”

“You’re serious?”

Even so, he still wanted to believe Nabiki might have changed—or that maybe she had enjoyed, at least a little, spending time with him in the past. He wanted to believe it; after all, she was still the freest person he had ever known.

“Relax. I’m paying. I know how much you hate spending your own money.”

Nabiki rolled her eyes, but a faint smile appeared on her face. That was enough for him.

He just hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

Nabiki caught up to him and walked alongside him.

He ended up regretting it.

Throughout the meal, every time he tried to strike up a conversation, she limited herself to nodding or offering the bare minimum in response. The only moments when Nabiki truly spoke were when the topic revolved around the ryokan. Ranma made an effort to be pleasant; he was no longer the loudmouthed, arrogant, ill-mannered kid he’d been years ago, but she didn’t seem to notice—or care. Business was the only thing that held her interest. Why had he even bothered with all of this? Why had he expected a different outcome?

When they left the restaurant, Ranma was angry—at her, at himself, and at the entire situation. He was even struck by the fear that this would all end with Nabiki telling her sisters where he was living, rekindling the absurd idea of the Tendo–Saotome engagement in their parents’ minds. Even so, that barely worried him. What truly frightened him was the thought that if the Tendos found out, everyone else would too, and the life he had worked so hard to build would come crashing down.

Lost in his thoughts, Ranma didn’t noticed Nabiki watching him out of the corner of her eye, trapped in her own as well. He wasn’t the only one carrying inner conflicts that night.

After a while, Nabiki was the first to speak. They exchanged a few words before an awkward silence settled between them.

She commented that she never would have imagined he’d end up becoming a teacher. Ranma replied that people change—some later than others. The conversation escalated, and little by little he let himself be dragged along by the anger he’d been carrying inside. He accused her of being manipulative: everyone else lost, and she always won. Nabiki looked visibly upset; she asked a question whose answer, spoken by him, sealed the fate of the night.

“Do you really think I’m incapable of doing something different?”

“Honestly? No. People like you don’t change. Always looking for the easy way out, always after what benefits you.”

Not long after, Nabiki brought the night to an end. She said it firmly, leaving no room for argument. Ranma stood still for a second, a sharp discomfort lodged in his chest. Maybe he had gone too far. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but she stopped him with a curt gesture: she would return to the ryokan alone. Each of them would go on with their own lives.

Ranma didn’t insist. He stayed there, watching her silhouette fade into the shadows the night stretched across the street, until there was nothing left to see.

Then the anger came back—sudden, almost violent. Fine! If she wanted to behave like an immature child, let her! He had every right to be angry. Nabiki had spent years mocking him during their adolescence, and after ten years she reappeared as if nothing had happened, only to ask for his help with that ryokan—as if he were just going to hand it over that easily. She hadn’t even bothered to make the reunion remotely pleasant. Who was she to complain now?

He hoped this would serve as a lesson. She couldn’t just take whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. She wouldn’t take advantage of him again. Not this time.

He snorted in irritation. The school was closed, so there was no way to retrieve his bicycle. He scanned his surroundings, alert for any curious eyes. Nothing. No one. Without another thought, he bent his legs and jumped, taking to the rooftops as a shortcut back home.

With each leap, the anger lost strength, turning into something heavier: sadness, disappointment… even a hint of guilt. He ignored it. His pride—stubborn as ever—reminded him that he shouldn’t feel bad. She was the one in the wrong, not him.

He sighed as he moved across the rooftops. All he wanted was to get home, sleep, and erase that afternoon from his mind.

He made one final jump and landed near his house. This time, he continued on foot. When he looked up, he noticed someone standing in front of the entrance. He frowned slightly and approached with caution. The figure had their back turned, revealing an imposing presence clad in the rigid precision of military discipline.

He wore an olive-green service jacket, perfectly pressed, with the insignia of two silver bars on his shoulders marking him as an officer. His posture was firm—the bearing of a twenty-seven-year-old man whose character had been tempered through service.

Hearing him, the stranger turned with measured calm and offered a faint smile. Beneath the peaked cap, his features looked more mature, etched by the years, yet they retained that spark of determination belonging to someone who had survived the harshest trials.

Ranma stopped… and returned the smile.

“Hello, Kumon.”

Both adults had already eaten and drunk. Now they were sitting on the engawa, their backs resting against the wooden pillars, watching the garden bathed in the soft light of the full moon. Each held a bottle of beer; the glass was damp with condensation. Ranma took a short sip before speaking, without taking his eyes off the shrubs.

“I didn’t expect to see you around here at this time of year,” he said, breaking the silence.

Ryu rested his elbow on his knee and turned his head slightly toward him.

“I asked for time off five days ago,” he replied. “I decided to come visit you. I thought you might need it.”

Ranma let out a brief exhale, almost a humorless laugh, and rolled the bottle between his fingers.

“I appreciate the thought, but I’m doing just fine.”

Ryu took a drink before answering.

“Your mother doesn’t think so.”

Ranma frowned and finally looked at him.

“Did she tell you to come?”

“She only said she was worried,” Ryu clarified. “Nothing more.”

Ranma lowered his gaze to the garden, tightening his jaw slightly.

“Did you come here as my psychologist?”

Ryu shook his head, leaning his back against the pillar.

“I came here as your friend.”

“Ryu, I don’t get it. It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, it’s just that…” He stopped, searching for the words. “I’m happy where I am. Where I live. With the life I have now. Why do you all have to worry so much about that? I’m happy here.”

“Don’t blame your mother for worrying” Ryu said at last. “You left Nerima overnight, leaving the engagement and the people who cared about you behind, without even saying goodbye.”

Ranma clicked his tongue and turned his face away, visibly annoyed.

“They never cared about me,” he shot back. “They only wanted me for their own selfish interests, not because they actually loved me.”

Ryu carefully set the bottle down on the engawa.

“I can understand that when it comes to Soun and Genma,” he admitted. “But Akane, your mother… even that chef who makes okonomiyaki,” he added with a faint smile. “They loved you. And you left.”

“Did you come all this way just to throw what I did ten years ago in my face?”

Ryu shook his head immediately.

“I came because I know I’m the only friend you have.”

Ranma let out a dry laugh and tilted his head.

“Do you pity me? Is that it?”

Ryu looked straight at him, serious.

“I’m doing what a friend should do,” he said firmly. “You were there for me. Now I’m here for you.”

“Ryu…” Ranma murmured, lowering his voice.

Ryu leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees.

“You know we’re alike,” he went on. “The lives we’ve lived shaped us into solitary people in many ways.” He raised his eyes to him. “Ranma, expressing your feelings doesn’t make you any less of a man, or weak.”

Silence settled between them. Ranma bowed his head, watching the reflection of the light on the bottle.

“What’s going on, Ranma?” Ryu asked, this time gently.

Ranma took a deep breath. He set the beer bottle down on the engawa with a soft thud and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even more.

“My nightmares have been getting worse this past year,” he finally said, his gaze fixed on the garden. “I’ve had trouble concentrating lately. Today I couldn’t finish grading some exams I should’ve finished yesterday… and I destroyed my alarm this morning.”

Ryu tilted his head, attentive.

“Are they the same ones as last time, or…?”

Ranma let out a brief, humorless laugh and shook his head.

“It’s everything. The pit, my childhood, Saffron, the people I left to fend for themselves in Nerima,” he listed, lifting his eyes for just a second. “They come day after day. Meditation helps, but less and less each time.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

“So you’re not that happy here after all, huh?”

Ranma let out a soft laugh and leaned back against the pillar.

“This place is great,” he admitted, “but there are parts of my life that are too broken to expect them to be fixed with a little tape.”

Ryu curved his lips into a half-smile.

“Is Ashikawa just a little tape?”

Ranma turned his head and shot him a sideways glance.

“You know what I mean, idiot.”

“If you were in the army, you’d get hit for disrespecting a first lieutenant,” Ryu replied with mock seriousness.

“As if they’d stand a chance against me,” Ranma shot back at once.

Both let out a low, brief laugh that faded as quickly as it had appeared.

Ranma leaned forward again.

“It’d be good to have you around here more often, Ryu. I mean it,” he said in a lower voice. “You’re the only one I trust. The only one who understands me.”

Ryu watched him calmly before answering.

“I think you should let more people into your life.”

Ranma frowned.

“I don’t think that’s the answer I’m looking for.”

“But it’s the one you need,” Ryu replied without harshness. “How long has it been since you even went out with someone?”

Ranma stiffened immediately.

“Did Mom tell you to convince me to start dating?”

Ryu shook his head slowly.

“No one said anything about dating.”

Ranma opened his mouth to respond, to argue, but no words came out. He closed his lips, lowered his gaze, and clenched his jaw.

“Well?” Ryu said, raising an eyebrow as he watched him.

Ranma hesitated for a moment before answering.

“I think… I’d like to go out with someone.”

Ryu smiled and gave him a few firm pats on the back, clearly proud.

“Great. Do you have anyone in mind?”

Ranma leaned back slightly.

“A coworker invited me to go with her next week, on Midori no Hi…”

“Say yes!” Ryu exclaimed without hesitation.

Ranma twisted his mouth.

“…but…”

“But?”

“It’s not really my thing. She’s a good woman,” he clarified. “There are good women here, but none of them really catch my attention.”

Ryu frowned slightly.

“Why?”

Ranma shrugged.

“I don’t know. I guess I’d like to meet a girl with character. Smart, sharp. Someone who isn’t ashamed of what she does or says.” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “You know, a girl who knows her own worth.”

Ryu Kumon grew thoughtful for a moment. Ranma picked up the bottle again and brought it to his mouth, taking a long drink.

“Well, the way you describe her…” Ryu finally said, “it sounds like you’re talking about Nabiki.”

Ranma’s eyes flew open and he spat out the liquid in his mouth.

“N-Nabiki?!”

Ryu looked at him seriously as he pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and offered it to him.

“Seriously, you need to stop reacting like that. You’re not ten years old.”

Ranma took the handkerchief with obvious reluctance.

“I can’t help it. That woman is a torment to me,” he growled as he wiped his chin and neck. “How can you even bring her up?”

“Well,” Ryu replied, “half the times I’ve come here, you’ve mentioned her at some point. And the way you described her, she seemed to fit pretty well with what you just said.” He studied him closely. “You always remember her with a certain fondness, despite the things she used to do to you.”

“To be honest, I wish I could erase her from my memory and forget her,” Ranma said.

He tossed the handkerchief aside next to Ryu and stood up. He walked over to the small pond in the garden and stared into the water.

“What’s going on, Ranma?” Kumon asked, standing up as well. He took a few steps forward, then stopped at a certain distance.

Ranma sighed. With his hands in his pockets, he turned slightly to look at him.

“She showed up at the school this afternoon.”

“What?” Ryu tensed. “Does she know where you live? Do the others know?”

“No, not as far as I know. She didn’t even know I lived here,” Ranma replied. “Apparently she wants to buy Matsunaga’s ryokan and, because of my relationship with the old man, she wanted me to convince him to change his mind so she could acquire it.”

“Oh… and what happened?”

“What hasn't happened, Ryu?”Ranma answered immediately. “For a moment I thought that maybe, in part, she’d be happy to see me. That maybe she was there for me.” He ran a hand over his face. “Keeping up appearances in front of everyone and then, when we were alone, telling me she’d been looking for me… or I don’t know.”

Ryu looked at him in disbelief.

“Are you serious?”

“It felt like too much of a coincidence for her to show up here, in this town, at the school where I work, requesting my presence even under another name. But in the end it was just business. Using me again for one of her whims.” He clenched his jaw. “And not to mention the risk of her telling the others that I’m here and everything going to hell.”

“Ah… I see.”

“We argued. We fought,” Ranma continued. “She left angry… and I think hurt. I didn’t use the most elegant words—you know me.” He shrugged. “On one hand I feel bad about what I did, but on the other I feel like she deserves it.”

Ryu watched as Ranma’s gaze dropped to the ground. His hands curled into fists, knuckles tight, loaded with anger. But only seconds later, the rigidity faded; the fists relaxed and his shoulders sagged, leaving only sadness.

“Ten years for this…” Ranma murmured. “I never expected to see her again at any point in my life, and here she is. It only took half a day to turn my world upside down.” He swallowed. “I want to hate her. You have no idea how much. I want to… but I can’t.” His voice rose slightly. “Why her? Why does it have to be her?”

Ryu took a few steps toward him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Ranma lifted his head to look at him.

“Ranma, don’t feel bad for feeling this way,” Ryu said calmly. “We’ve all felt like this at some point. Hatred is a straight line, easy to follow. Many take it because it’s the most obvious and simple path, but in doing so they lose focus.”

He made a vague gesture with his hand. “They don’t see beyond a gray cloud.”

Ranma listened in silence.

“The ability to forgive, to not let ourselves be carried away by anger, is a great power,” Ryu continued. “Only a few possess it, and those who do can work wonders.”

“Does she deserve that forgiveness?” Ranma asked softly. “Does she deserve a chance?”

“We all do,” Ryu replied without hesitation. “A text I once read said: ‘Forgiveness is not forgetting or justifying. It is deciding not to let a past mistake have the final word.’” He looked at him seriously. “Nabiki may have hurt you in the past, but ten years have passed. You don’t know her story or what she’s lived through in all that time. She may be just as lost as you are right now.”

Ranma looked away.

“If you don’t give her that forgiveness, if you don’t give her that chance,” Ryu continued, “you’ll never know what lies beyond. You’ll only reduce her to her worst version.” He paused briefly. “Forgiving doesn’t guarantee change, but denying any opportunity guarantees that it won’t happen.”

A few seconds passed before Ranma lifted his gaze again and met Ryu’s eyes.

“I’m afraid, Ryu.”

“Of what?”

“Of her… of myself… of all of this. I don’t know if I’m mature enough to sustain a relationship, or if I even deserve one. I’m afraid to try… and that by doing so, I’ll end up ruining everything.”

Ryu answered him with a sincere smile.

“Ranma, if you live in fear of doing things, you’ll never do them. Look around you,” he said, resting his other hand on Ranma’s free shoulder. “Do you really think you would have made it this far if you had let fear rule you? I don’t know anyone… who deserves this more than you.”

Ranma pressed his lips together.

“And what if everything goes wrong? What if I try… and fail?”

“And what if you fail? What does it matter?”

“Ryu…”

“You once told me that giving up before even trying was always a form of failure,” he went on, not giving him time to answer. “That no matter the outcome, you had to do it. Because at the very least, you could say you tried—and you’d never have to live with the uncertainty of what might have happened if…” Ryu paused briefly. “And that’s why I’m giving those words back to you now. I’m asking you to try.”

“I…”

“Just once more, Ranma. Just once more.”

Ranma’s expression softened, turning into a small smile.

“That’s not fair—using my own words against me.”

“Anything goes, isn’t it?” He gave him a light pat on the shoulder. “Besides… wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to share the life you have? Go on—take advantage of the ryokan and talk to her. There are no rivals or arranged engagements around anymore. Maybe this is your chance to tell her what you’ve felt all this time. Take the risk.”

Ranma fell silent, processing every word. Finally, he nodded.

“I hate that you’re right.”

“Sorry for being wiser than you,” Ryu replied with a smile.

“Funny.”

Ryu laughed, and both of them went inside the house. Ryu walked ahead down the hallway; Ranma stayed behind, picking up the bottles. Before Ryu continued walking, Ranma spoke:

“Hey, Ryu… do you think I’m boring?”

Ryu turned his head to look at him.

“Ranma, you can be many things,” he said, “but boring isn’t one of them.”

Ranma smiled at the answer.

The next day arrived. Ryu Kumon would be staying at his place for a few days, and Ranma walked to school. He greeted the other teachers and taught his classes as usual, but his mind was far from there. He had far too many things to think about. As soon as the afternoon session ended, he retrieved the bicycle he had left the day before and headed out immediately.

He walked with the bicycle at his side, eyes lost on the road, replaying Ryu’s words from the night before over and over again. He felt nervous. He had improved in many aspects of his life, yes—but romantic relationships were not among them. Good grief, barely a day earlier he had flatly refused the idea of having a relationship with anyone, and now he was trying to take advantage of the ryokan situation to ask her out.

He didn’t know whether this was a good or a bad idea. There was a very real chance she would say no. As intelligent and cunning as she was, she might have already found another alternative. She didn’t like to lose… just like he had, once.

Ranma stopped. He looked up and watched the sunset, warm colors spreading across the sky. He had managed to build a beautiful life. The peace he had found there couldn’t be found anywhere else, but…

Besides… wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to share the life you have?

But it wouldn’t hurt to let someone into your life…

Maybe this is your chance to tell her what you’ve felt all this time. Take the risk. 

He would like to share that happiness with her, that peace he had found there. Maybe she could see things his way. She was the only person with whom he would do that.

The only one.

Even someone like you needs to break out of their routine from time to time.

Ranma laughed for real when he remembered it. Maybe it really was time to break that routine a little.

On the way, he picked peach blossoms. They were the only flowers that inevitably reminded him of her. When he had enough, he put together an improvised bouquet. He studied it in silence, a bit uncertain. He only hoped she would accept his apology; he honestly doubted he’d get another chance. With that thought in mind, he left the bicycle leaning against a post and walked toward the ryokan.

When he arrived, he saw Nabiki from behind. Even with the years that had passed, she still looked the same: dangerous yet beautiful, manipulative yet sharp. In his entire life, no woman had ever been even a fifth of what she was. Even now, he was sure there was no woman more beautiful and dangerous than her anywhere on earth.

Um… you look pretty… in that dress. 

My time is valuable, Ranma. And I doubt you’d spend forty thousand yen just to tell me something I already know. 

Even so, he would love to tell her again. To tell her how beautiful she had been in his eyes since adolescence. The only woman he would ever say that to. Only with her would he be able to utter those words.

I guess I’d like to meet a girl with character. Smart, sharp. Someone who isn’t ashamed of what she does or says. 

Only her.

Just once more, Ranma. Just once more. 

He only had to try… one more time.

“Nabiki…”