Chapter Text
This is the thing they don’t tell you about coming from the future: more than anything, it’s lonely.
It’s not exactly that Ranma’s alone. Right now, she’s as close to a place called “home” as she could ever be: standing on the grass just outside the Tendou home while Nabiki watches her lazily from the engawa. The weather’s nice, and it’s been a peaceful couple weeks, if you don’t count her ongoing travails with Kunou. Her days start with a home-cooked breakfast made by Kasumi, and while Furinkan High School is nobody’s idea of the best place to spend one’s weekdays or Saturday mornings, it’s nostalgic in its own way.
Still, Ranma finds herself frustrated going through the motions, knowing nobody else would understand the position she finds herself in right now. She’s been smashing through a lot of cinderblocks lately because at this point, she’s more or less run out of things to do while she waits for events to unfold as they have before—ya know, maybe Akane was onto something about these things, she thinks as she watches another pile disintegrate before her eyes—or maybe, as the unspeakable fears percolating in the back of her head whisper to her, because she’s afraid that they won’t.
“Have a little mercy on the poor cinderblocks,” Nabiki rolls her eyes a little. “Or if not them, our pocketbooks, at least. At the rate you’re going through them, we’ll be insolvent by the end of the month.”
“You’re missing out on some great stress relief, Nabiki,” Ranma glances back, her tone cheerful but undercut by an anxious energy. “Besides, it’s cheaper than therapy.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Nabiki laughs out loud, like she’s been caught entirely off guard. “God, no wonder the boys think you’re weird.”
“Say that all you want,” Ranma coughs and shoots her a dirty look, her eyes half-lidded, “but all those candids you’re selling tell a different story, don’t they?”
“Huh.” Nabiki brushes dust off her shoulder. “I was wondering when you’d cotton on to that particular side hustle. If it makes you feel any better, just remember it’s paying for all those bricks.”
Ranma chops through the last stack of blocks with a loud kiai. “Very funny.”
“Anyway, as fascinating as it is watching you sort through your emotional turmoil by pulverizing solid rock, little sister, I think you might want to get a load of this.” Nabiki holds a postcard in her hand, and as she brings it closer to read, Ranma drops her stance and jogs over towards Nabiki, stepping on tiptoes to read over Nabiki’s shoulder.
“‘Souun, old friend. Bringing my son Ranma with me from China. —Genma Saotome’.” Nabiki reads off the chicken-scratch lettering. “According to dear old dad, he’s been planning to set up an omiai between his son and one of us when they finally arrived in town. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet your future husband today, huh?”
She knows it’s a little out of character, but Ranma can’t resist cracking a broad grin at Nabiki’s statement. If only she knew how right—and yet, how wrong—her statement really was. “What, are you worried you won’t have a shot with him?”
“Well, well, isn’t somebody full of surprises today.” Nabiki tilts her head curiously as she looks over at Ranma. “As it happens, I’m happily a single woman for the time being, but the right man could change my mind about that. I’m just a little surprised to see you taking the initiative. Are you feeling okay, Akane?”
“You know?” Even though she knew this day would come soon enough, seeing Nabiki hold hard evidence in her hands that it’s finally here fills Ranma with a rush of relief. It’s not a guarantee—nothing will be, until she’s face-to-face with Akane—but it’s not nothing, either. She breathes out deeply, rolls her shoulders, and beams at Nabiki. “I’m looking forward to it.”
That’s the other thing they don’t tell you about coming from the future: that much as you might wish that you could start again on a better foot, could avoid all the mistakes and wasted time you made in your first life, it doesn’t count for much if you wake up two-and-a-half years younger looking not through the eyes of your younger self, but your wife’s. Now Ranma finds herself waiting for her own body to arrive, hoping against hope that when “Ranma Saotome” finally arrives, that the person inside her body will be the Akane she remembers and not some other stranger—or worst of all, himself.
As nerve-wracking as it’s been to have spent the last couple of weeks trying to impersonate Akane to the best of her abilities—to say nothing of the fear she keeps firmly tamped down in her heart that she might be alone in this rewound world—there’s still a kernel of curiosity that Ranma tries to cultivate as she lives out Akane’s day-to-day experiences before the two of them met. If nothing else, it’s a humbling reminder that the world goes on turning in her absence.
But she also finds that it’s strangely not so different from the home she left: there’s a couple years of maturity and growth ahead of Akane’s sisters, but Kasumi treats her with the same sisterly warmth she’d come to know and love, and Nabiki engages in the same teasing and sardonic jokes as ever. It makes Ranma love them all the more, experiencing in first person how the two of them treat a sibling and realizing in retrospect that she’d earned the same treatment over the years.
There’s just one gaping hole in her heart that she’s been carrying, and as Souun calls a family meeting in anticipation of the Saotomes’ arrival, she hopes desperately that today is the last day she’s going to have to do so.
“As it happens, my old friend Genma and his son Ranma have been hard at work perfecting their art in China. Now that they have returned to Japan, the two of us have decided that the time is right to introduce his son to the three of you. If one of you girls were to marry him… the legacy of the Tendou School would be secure in your hands.”
“An arranged marriage is a little old-fashioned, don’t you think, Daddy?” Ranma glances lazily over at Souun, partly impersonating Akane’s original disinterest in an engagement and partly shaping the conditions to ensure a favourable outcome. Although she’s tense imagining the ways that things could go wrong, she also can’t help but be a little amused to see how the Tendou family reacts to the notion of an omiai. “Why don’t we just get to know him first to see if he would be a good match?”
“Yes, well…” Souun coughs, shifting a little uncomfortably on his zabuton. “Akane, there is also a manner of honour to consider. You see, the two of us made an agreement…”
“Oh? What kind of agreement?” Nabiki raises an eyebrow.
“To join our families in marriage, should we have a son or daughter to wed. And, well, Genma has a son, and I have my three lovely daughters, so it seems that our agreement will come to fruition. The only question is which one of you will marry him.”
Kasumi hums thoughtfully, tapping her chin with a finger. “Well, how old is he, Daddy? Marrying a teenager would be a bit…”
Nabiki waves away Kasumi’s concern. “More importantly, what does he look like?”
“Er, that is… I’m not sure, girls. I’ve never met him.”
Ranma suppresses a chuckle at the notion that Akane’s sisters are champing at the bit to be paired off, given the versions of them she came to know once she arrived, although there’s also a spark of petty indignation that they didn’t seem so excited anymore once they met her for the first time, foisting her off onto Akane with hardly a second thought.
She doesn’t have much time to spare towards that thought when the doorbell rings.
It’s certainly not the way she found herself introduced to the Tendous the first time around, having been dragged more or less kicking and screaming by a feral panda into an unwanted engagement. As the entire household careens to the front door, desperate to meet the mystery bachelor “Ranma Saotome”, though, Ranma finds herself caught up in the energy as well, albeit for an entirely different reason.
Souun opens the door to reveal… well, “Ranma Saotome” in the midst of a heated argument with her father, both of them at each other’s throats and seeming close to breaking out into a no-holds-barred martial arts throwdown.
Ranma takes a moment to look at the person occupying her female form. She obviously feels a degree of eerie familiarity from her physicality, though other things throw her a little off: her hair is tied up not in a braid but in a ponytail with a neat, thin white bow. She wears the Chinese silk clothing Ranma’s so fond of, but the cut and the fit is different, a little more fitted against her body. Her jaw unclenches just a little, realizing that whoever it is occupying that body, it’s certainly not “Ranma Saotome”.
“Boy, did you stop to think about what kind of first impression you were going to make? I told you, there were plenty of opportunities to—”
“Don’t say ‘opportunities’ when you actually mean ‘stealing someone’s thermos’!”
“What kind of paltry objection is that compared to restoring your manhood!”
“I don’t know, old man, you certainly don’t seem to care much about that when it rains and you hog the umbrella all to yourself!”
At this point, Ranma feels like there isn’t much point in letting the bickering go on much longer, and she clears her throat conspicuously, trying to get the attention of both of them.
The girl turns towards her, eyes wide in shock before she seems to catch herself. “I’m so sorry!” she gasps, before bowing slightly. “I’m Ranma Saotome, and this is my father Genma. I was told that this is the Tendou residence?”
There’s a long silence as Ranma doesn’t want to be the first to leap into the fray, and yet it is impossible for anyone else to ignore the obvious fact that “Ranma Saotome” is not a boy.
Finally, Souun grinds out an incredibly awkward greeting. “You’re, er. You’re a girl.”
“No, really?” Nabiki rolls her eyes. “What gave that away?”
“Nabiki,” Kasumi chides. “Don’t be rude. She’s our guest.”
The girl looks between the two, naked hope plain in her eyes. "I, er." She seems to think for a moment, then sets her jaw. "Yes. I am."
Upon hearing this, Genma erupts and begins to tug on the girl’s arm. “Enough of this foolishness, boy! I see that the curse has taken hold of you too profoundly for us to put this off any longer.” He turns to Souun, his face a mask of grim determination. “Tendou, old friend, I’m afraid that we have unfinished business in China. We’ll have to wait until we return to do a proper introduction.”
“No!” the girl wrests herself out of his grip. “Go back to China if you want, what do I care? Just leave me out of it. I’m staying here!”
“Er… hmm.” Souun appears to become faint, and he slumps against the doorframe, supporting himself against the doorframe with an arm.
By now, Ranma’s familiar with Souun’s reactions anytime he becomes overwhelmed, and she places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Daddy, why don’t you go sit down in the living room,” she says, and then turns to the girl she’s desperately hoping is Akane and offers her an enigmatic smile. “I’m sure Mr. Saotome will be happy to explain the situation and clear up any misunderstandings.”
Genma glares at her, his shoulders sagging as he appears to relent. “The path of the martial artist is fraught with peril,” he mumbles to himself, as if he’s chanting a mantra while steeling himself for whatever might come next.
As everyone begins to file in and make for the living room, Ranma hangs back for a moment until she’s alone with the girl in her body and nudges her gently. “Hey, want to head to the dojo while the old man falls on his sword?”
She offers a tentative smile and nods.
They walk down the short hallway to the sliding door that takes them outside, Ranma leading them at an impatient pace over to the dojo, where they’ll have the privacy for her to test what she thinks—and desperately hopes—to be the truth.
Inside the dojo, there’s a security Ranma feels from having a pair of walls between the two of them and everyone else. She feels a little more emboldened to test the girl across from her, to try to draw out her identity, and her eyes catch on the white bow tied neatly into her hair.
“I like your ponytail,” Ranma remarks. “But I’m just wonderin’. You ever thought of braiding it?”
The girl glances back at her hair and sighs. “You know, I tried it, but I just couldn’t…” She trails off for a moment, her eyes slowly drifting back towards Ranma and holding a steady, nervous gaze. “Why are you asking me that?”
The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and Ranma feels like one wrong move could plunge it into her heart. She meets the girl’s gaze, and takes a leap of faith.
“Tomboy?”
All of the tension leaches from her—Akane, Ranma finally lets herself think with a rush of euphoria, relief, and more than anything else love—and Akane smiles brightly, tears welling up and streaking down her cheeks, as she rushes forward into a hug.
“Ranma!” Akane says, throwing her arms around Ranma and clutching tightly, resting her head in the crook of Ranma’s shoulder, her voice unsteady as each breath hitches.
Ranma can’t help but do much the same, returning Akane’s gesture as she leans down slightly to accommodate Akane’s height. “I missed ya, ‘Kane.”
Akane sighs deeply and presses her face into Ranma’s gi, tears staining the collar. As Akane lifts one of her hands behind Ranma’s back and ruffles the ends of Ranma’s sharp bob haircut, Akane raises her head, loosens her embrace and looks back at Ranma with a smirk. “You cut my hair.”
In the days after waking up in Akane’s body, Ranma had asked Kasumi to cut her hair. After so long, she’d grown used to the idea that this was Akane’s haircut, and it made it easier for her to play the role she’d have to play for the time being. Besides, she had thought to herself, there was something comforting about the idea of that kind of continuity at a time where there was little else she could take for granted other than the goings-on of Akane’s daily life.
“What can I say?” Ranma shrugs, trying to affect a casual demeanour. “I like how it looks on ya.”
Akane laughs, even as tears continue to fall from her cheeks. “God, I missed you too, Ranma.”
There’s a brief, but profoundly comfortable silence as the two of them drink in each other’s presence. After a month apart, Ranma realizes that for all the comfort she had gotten from living with the Tendous—who, after all this time, were as much her family as her parents—the feeling of Akane returning into his life feels like a missing puzzle piece has finally fallen into place. It’s only on another moment’s reflection that she stops to think again, and the full reality that the two of them are placed in really hits her all over again.
Because, of course, now that she and Akane have been reunited—something Ranma had to believe would happen, and yet something she couldn’t count on until Akane was standing before her—they have an almost equally daunting problem to face, having travelled back in time together, only to find themselves stuck in each other’s bodies.
“So…” Ranma starts, kicking her feet slightly into the tatami. “This is kinda messed up, tomboy.”
“You’re telling me,” Akane scoffs and trains an eye on Ranma. “This has to be because of the Wishing Mirror somehow. You didn’t wish for this, did you?”
“What! ‘Course not!” Ranma protests. “Who’d wanna—I mean—” Ranma manages to stop herself, takes a breath, and starts again, blushing crimson. “I mean, yer amazing, Akane. You know, cute and b-beautiful and all that. But I didn’t wanna be ya.”
“Dummy,” Akane says affectionately with a roll of her eyes. Looking back at her own body with an expression of slight dismay, she rubs her face with a hand. “Well, I didn’t ask for this either. What did you wish for, then?”
“Uhh… I mean I know was supposed to get my curse cured but…” Ranma stumbles over her words, “well don’t tell anybody, but I kinda just wished I could get a break from all the folks hasslin’ me. I was just tired of all these random dojo challengers and ex-fiancées tryin’ to make my life hell and gettin’ dragged on quests for some stupid new cure and… well you get the idea.” Ranma slumps her shoulders. “Why, what’d you ask for?”
“For people to… take me more seriously as a martial artist…” Akane stares off into the middle distance, looking down at herself and heaving an exhausted, ragged sigh. “Oh god…”
Ranma puts a hand on Akane’s shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I’m real sorry, ‘Kane. I still feel like a real heel for how long I went without trainin’ ya properly.”
“At least you did, Ranma. Really, it was how everyone else reacted when we found the mirror that was the last straw. Do you know how it feels to throw everything you’ve got into succeeding, only to have everyone celebrate it as someone else’s victory?”
“Even if it went to hell… I really appreciated it, tomboy. Whatever anyone else says, we did it together.”
Akane shakes her head and scoffs. “Honestly, we probably should have known better that it was a monkey’s paw. It’s not like any of the other stupid enchanted artifacts in our lives were any different.”
“That ain’t the only problem, either,” Ranma points out. “I mean, unless you’re keen on redoin’ high school.”
“That wasn’t high on my list of priorities either,” Akane groans. “So, obviously we need to start researching the mirror so we can figure out how to find it again and undo all of this. In the meantime…”
Ranma points a thumb back towards the house. “We gotta make sure they don’t engage ya to one of your sisters?”
Akane shivers in disgust. “Definitely. But first things first…” Akane’s mouth curls into a small smile, “...how about a little spar?”
Apart from a brief interruption from Kasumi—who enters the dojo quietly, smiles a little enigmatically, and retreats before uttering a word to either of them—the two of them are left to their own devices for a good while, with a long, satisfying spar that tests their endurance, skills, and mettle.
By now, Ranma’s had enough time to familiarize herself with the practicalities of sparring with Akane’s body; her height, reach, and strength all falling somewhere between Ranma’s male and female forms. Nevertheless, Ranma finds herself impressed at the way Akane is able to keep up; she’s better than the last time they saw each other, which by now has been several weeks. Several weeks, Ranma realizes, during which Akane has been travelling in China with only her father for company, subjected to his gauntlet of endless training right after what must have been a disorientating awakening in the wrong body. Not to mention having had to deal with Shampoo’s tailing and death threats…
Wait a sec… Ranma thinks as they begin a few cooldown exercises after their spar.
“So… when did you wake up in my body, exactly?” Ranma begins.
“Well, the mirror has a twisted sense of humour, that’s for sure,” Akane grouses. “I woke up right about to fall into a spring in Jusenkyou. By the time I figured out exactly what was happening and that this wasn’t a dream, the guide was already walking us over to his house for tea. That was pretty weird, although Plum was really sweet to me.”
Ranma feels a chill on her skin as she realizes that Akane’s experiences had not been quite like her own. “Hold on, you met Plum at the guide’s house?”
Akane nods. “Why, didn’t you?”
“Not until she came here to warn us about Saffron,” Ranma explains, her eyes flitting away darkly as she stands and stretches out her arms, gesturing towards the sliding door. “What else happened after that?”
Akane joins Ranma in standing, and the two of them sit down on the raised lip of the wooden platform surrounding the dojo. “Well, I remembered you’d told me about all the issues you’d had in Nujiezu, after Shampoo gave you the Kiss of Death.”
Ranma winces. “Sorry you hadta go through that, tomboy. I’m glad you could fight her off, though.”
“Actually, it was fine. We had a bit of a language barrier, but I think I made… friends? …with Shampoo. She definitely didn’t try to kill me.”
“She didn’t try to—wait, what about Pops? Did he still…”
“Eat the celebratory buffet? Oh, yeah,” Akane rolls her eyes. “Believe me, it was pretty humiliating trying to apologize to Cologne for that one. I was pretty sure she was going to make me marry Shampoo anyway as payment, but I managed to dodge that particular bullet too.”
“How’d ya manage that?”
“Simple,” Akane smiles. “I told her I was already married.”
Ranma cracks a broad smile and laughs out loud. “Well, you weren’t lyin’.” She leans back and sighs. “We better compare notes, Akane. Some stuff went down here too while you were gone.”
“How so?”
“Well, you want the good news or the bad news first?”
Akane just stares at Ranma. “What did you do, Ranma?”
“W-well!” Ranma throws out her hands defensively. “Look, I know Kunou’s been hasslin’ both of us for a long time, and I figured since I woke up here before every morning turned into a brawl with all the desperate single guys of Furinkan, I could try and fix it.”
As Akane continues to listen to Ranma’s explanation, her face sinks further and further into desperation and she buries her face into her hands.
“Well, the good news is I kinda figured it out. Kunou doesn’t wanna date ya, and there ain’t a gang of losers tryin’ to knock ya flat every morning.”
Akane looks at Ranma skeptically. “How did you manage that?”
“Simple. I joined the kendo club.”
“Oh god… wait what?” Akane looks up suddenly, puzzled.
“Yeah. Well I kinda thought… if he just saw me as a club kouhai, maybe Kunou won’t think of ya like some precious flower he’s gotta marry or whatever. I’m wearin’ all that armour half the time anyway, so it ain’t like he’s got a lot to look at.”
“Ranma…” Akane squints her eyes and makes a look of displeasure.
“I’m just sayin’! It’s the armour, n-not, I mean—!” Ranma starts, but Akane just smirks and punches her playfully on the arm.
“I’m teasing you, dummy.”
“Right, heh,” Ranma smiles bashfully. “A-anyway, he thought I was really good, and now he really wants me to stay in the club cause he thinks we got a shot at Nationals. So yeah… bad news is now he thinks I’m some kinda kendo savant, I guess.”
“Well,” Akane sighs in relief. “That’s not so bad. If anything, it sounds like we might have… changed a few things for the better?”
Ranma looks down at both their bodies. “Maybe, ‘Kane… but far as I see it, there’s still a pretty big problem we gotta fix.”
Akane takes Ranma by the hand and holds it tightly. “I know. We’ll sort this out together, Ranma, and find a way to switch back into our own bodies. I just wonder, while we’re here in the past, whether it might not be a bad idea to take advantage of that? Maybe…” Akane looks up hopefully. “Maybe we can take this opportunity to fix a few things along the way. You know, as a team.”
Ranma lifts her gaze towards Akane again and smiles. “Yeah, as a team.” Glancing back at the house, she exhales deeply and claps her hands. “Alright, tomboy. You ready to face the music?”
Akane beams. “Okay, let’s do it.”
It doesn’t take particularly long for Ranma and Akane to earn comments about their conspicuous absence from the living room where Genma had explained his and his son’s curse. As soon as they shut the sliding door behind them after entering the main building, they manage a few steps towards the living room before they pass the kitchen, where Kasumi putters around preparing dinner. “Oh, Akane, you’re finally back.”
“Y—” Akane begins, but her response immediately dies in her mouth, as Ranma puts a hand on her shoulder and intervenes.
“We were just sparring,” Ranma replies sweetly. “Ranma’s a really good martial artist.”
“How nice,” Kasumi replies absentmindedly. “Well, now that you’re finished, you might want to go to the living room and talk things over with Daddy and Mr. Saotome.”
As they move on from the kitchen, Akane elbows Ranma in the ribs, rolling her eyes and muttering under her breath, “Can’t resist an opportunity to brag, can you?”
Ranma snickers. “Yeah, yeah, tell me I’m wrong.”
“Wrong about what?”
As they enter the living room, Ranma looks up to see Nabiki, who appears to be taking a second crack at them before they can face their fathers, who sit gravely at the side of the room, tears streaming down their faces like they’ve just been watching maudlin day dramas for the last hour.
“Oh. Hi, Nabiki,” Ranma says, giving her a slightly unamused, half-lidded look. “What’s going on?”
Nabiki looks a little miffed as she directs her eyes towards Akane. “Well, I guess you were too excited to go play kempo gal-pals to listen to what Mr. Saotome had to say, but it seems like Ranma might have left out a teeny-tiny detail.” She points to Akane. “‘She’ is a boy.”
“I know.”
“And h— wait, what?”
“You heard me,” Ranma replies evenly. “She already told me pretty much everything she’s been through in the last month. Can you imagine how complicated and difficult it has to be to deal with something like a body-switching curse?”
The irony of her statement is lost on the rest of them, but Akane still offers Ranma a subtle, but decidedly wry smile. Meanwhile, Nabiki struggles to formulate an answer, just staring straight at Ranma in clear disbelief.
In the absence of an answer, Souun claps his hands together and starts speaking, a little too loudly. “Well, my boy, Saotome told me about how this ‘curse’ of yours works. You change back into a boy with hot water, right?”
After a moment, Akane realizes she is the one being addressed. “Um, yes,” she says.
“Well, curses aside, your problem doesn’t seem so bad then!” Souun approaches Akane, clapping her on the back. “You can marry one of my daughters after all.”
Nabiki smirks, seeming to have recovered her composure. “Well, in that case, it makes perfect sense for a man-hater like Akane to marry someone who’s half-girl.”
Akane’s temper flares. “I’m not a—!” she starts, before apparently realizing she wasn’t the primary target of Nabiki’s teasing. “—uh, a ‘half-girl’!”
“Oh?” Nabiki chuckles. “So you’re a whole girl, then?”
“Yes! I mean, uh,” Akane falters, “Well, sort of, just…”
Why can’t she resist stirrin’ the damn pot? Ranma sighs and presses two fingers into her forehead. “Nabiki, I’m sure this is already pretty complicated. Why can’t you just leave her alone? I mean—! Him. Him alone.”
“What’s with this whole routine anyway? You sure didn’t seem to mind when I suggested you marry Ranma.”
“That’s because I don’t mind.”
“What?” Nabiki, again, is at a loss.
“Like I said. I’ll marry Ranma,” Ranma finishes and crosses her arms.
“Did you hear that, Saotome?” Souun elbows Genma giddily. “She said yes! The schools will finally be united!”
Nabiki ignores her father’s statement. “What’s with you, Akane? You were grilling Daddy earlier about an arranged marriage with someone you’ve never met, and a few hours later you’re signing up to be engaged to this ‘half-boy-whole-girl’.”
“We’re friends, Nabiki.”
Nabiki gives Ranma a skeptical look, then throws up her hands. “Whatever. Far be it from me to break up the happy couple! Congratulations on your engagement, Akane. I hope you know what you’re signing up for.”
There isn’t any way around the supreme awkwardness of dinner. With their parents’ smarmy satisfaction about the engagement going off without a hitch, Genma’s pressure for Akane to switch (and then stay) in male form, Nabiki’s skepticism over Akane’s seemingly arbitrary change of heart, Kasumi’s distant, cloudy expression, and Akane’s clear discomfort and awkwardness over his male form compounded with the less-than-congenial welcome by Kasumi and Nabiki, Ranma finds there isn’t much she really wants to say in the company of everyone else. Still, after Souun invites Akane and Genma to collect their belongings and begin to unpack, one issue that has to be addressed comes to a head, and Ranma finds herself compelled to speak up.
“So, where is Ranma going to be staying?”
Kasumi thinks for a moment, putting a finger on her chin. “The upstairs washitsu is empty. I can tidy a few things up so Ranma and Mr. Saotome can unpack their things there.”
Ranma shakes her head. “That doesn’t seem right, Kasumi. It would be like you or I sleeping in the same room as Daddy. Ranma could just stay with me.”
“No, it wouldn’t be appropriate for a boy and a girl to sleep in the same room.”
“Well, that’s not a problem. I could just stay as a girl.” Akane responds a little too eagerly.
Kasumi stares at the dark haired boy for a moment, a strange look on her face. “I know you two have made fast friends, but still…”
Genma glares at Akane and grumbles. “Boy, what’s all this about? So eager to forsake your manhood just because a pretty girl smiled at you? That kind of weakness will make you soft!”
Akane squirms uncomfortably, looking back to Ranma for support.
Instead, support comes from an unlikely place, as Souun turns towards Ranma as if her suggestion is the most brilliant thing he’s ever heard. “Nonsense, Saotome! This is a perfect opportunity for Akane and Ranma to get to know each other. Surely the schools will be joined before we know it…!” he says, unable to disguise his glee.
To Ranma and Akane’s relief, Souun’s word carries the day, and at the end of the evening, Akane brings her pack up to the bedroom that not so long ago was his—was hers. Ranma, close behind, closes the door behind her, granting the two of them privacy since they left the dojo.
As she turns around to face Akane, glass of water in hand, she realizes that Akane’s more or less on the verge of breaking down.
“Akane?” Ranma asks, her voice hardly above a whisper as she briefly glances back warily at the door, as if someone might hear them.
Akane doesn’t respond, though, other than to sniffle slightly, clutching his legs with his arms and looking like he’s trying to hold herself back from sobbing.
Quickly, Ranma tamps down her own distress at Akane’s anguish and focuses on the practicalities she can provide. First, she sets down the glass of water on the nightstand, then she approaches Akane and wraps her arms around him and reassures him in a soothing voice. “Hey. It’s gonna be okay.”
“T-they looked at me like a complete stranger, Ranma,” Akane stutters, voice hitching. “My own family.”
“I’m real sorry, ‘Kane. I know it ain’t fair havin’ to fake bein’ me, least of all me before I even met your dad and your sisters.”
Akane slides out of the hug, hanging his head slightly. “I’m such an idiot, thinking we could make things better just by being in the past…”
Ranma puts her hand on Akane’s shoulder, affecting a resolute expression. However much of a disaster this is, she has to believe they can figure out how to undo what was done. “We’ll fix this, tomboy. If there was a way to make this happen, there’s a way out of it.”
Akane responds with something halfway between a laugh and a choked sob. “Not much of a tomboy right now.”
Ranma ruffles the side of Akane’s hair sympathetically. “We’ll fix that, too.”
Through his tears, Akane smiles warmly. “I love you, Ranma.”
It’s not the first time Akane’s said it, but it might as well be. Ranma’s knees turn to jelly, her stomach flutters, and her cheeks burn with warmth, as she stutters over her response. “I l-lo-love ya too.”
“Dummy.” Akane’s mood seems to lift a little bit.
“Hey, I almost forgot, but I brought ya some cold water. You know, if you wanted to change ‘n all that.” Ranma gestures towards the nightstand.
Akane looks surprised for a moment, and then smiles. “Oh! Thank you, Ranma,” Akane sighs in relief and pours out water into a palm, rubbing the water into her hands and then shaking them off. Tilting her head for a moment, she gestures to her pack. “Actually, do you mind if I change into some nightclothes as well?”
“Um…” Only now, as she considers the logistics of the close quarters they’re going to be keeping for the foreseeable future, does it really strike Ranma that the two of them are in all likelihood going to be doing a fair amount of seeing each other in various states of undress. It shouldn’t rattle her, at this point; they’re married, after all, even if “married bliss” lasted them all of a couple days before they found themselves torn apart by circumstance. And it’s certainly not like they haven’t seen enough of their own or each other’s bodies to still be fazed about that. But the thought of the two of them, together… well, it’s not for nothing she’s sitting here struggling to give the obvious answer. “Sure, go wild. You can have some of, uh, yours if you want. Ain’t like it’s my place to stop ya.”
“Thanks. I obviously don’t have much in my pack, but you’re welcome to do the same. Or, you know, obviously you can use some of mine too. Like you’ve probably been doing for the last month.” Ranma wonders if the way Akane blushes and quickly turns away means the same thing is going through her head.
“Uh, cool. Yeah.” Ranma joins Akane as she slides open her dresser and starts looking through her clothing.
Akane glances back and smiles at her. “You know, it’s awfully weird hearing you talk like that in my voice.”
“Gimme a break,” Ranma grouses. “I’ve been keepin’ up the act for weeks and it ain’t always easy.”
Pulling out a soft flannel shirt and a pair of pants and holding a sleeve against her arm, Akane nods to herself, satisfied. “Honestly, I’m more impressed at how well you did in front of my family. I don’t know whether to be flattered, annoyed, or scared.”
“W-well,” Ranma blushes slightly as she swiftly picks the pajamas she’s taken to wearing most often, a silk set with an embroidered pig pattern. “I’m doin’ my best. Sure can’t replace the real thing, though,” she says with a grin. “Your impression of me, on the other hand… well, let’s just say you ain’t exactly gonna win any awards, tomboy.”
“Well, excuse me!” Akane slips off each leg of her silk pants with a little too much force, yanking at the waistband of the flannel pajama bottoms as she puts them on. “It’s not like I got a lot of practice refining my impersonations while I was fending off your dad’s insane ‘training’ regimes.”
Ranma’s face falls slightly. “I’m sorry you hadta go through all that.”
“I’m sorry too.” Akane shakes her head and sighs. “You know… I was jealous of you for a long time, Ranma. How you got to spend months training to be the best martial artist out there. I knew your father did a lot of terrible things, but I don’t think I ever realized how lonely it felt, not having anyone you could count on to support you.”
It’s funny, but it isn’t until Akane says those words that Ranma realizes she’s right. Her childhood was lonely, it was exhausting, and yet… it just was.
Pushing those thoughts out of her head, Ranma bumps the other girl with her shoulder. “Well, we both got someone now, huh?”
“Yeah, we do,” Akane’s smile returns to her face.
“Well, since it looks like we’re going to have to live with this for a little while, we should probably figure out how we’re going to handle it in the meantime.”
“What, you mean like your family?”
“I mean everything. We might have headed off a few rivals and suitors at the pass, but there’s more where that came from. I mean, last time…” Akane pauses in thought and begins to count with her fingers as she lists off various conflicts they got embroiled in, “Kodachi started a fight with the gymnastics team, Azusa tried to steal P-chan, you got kidnapped by Sentaro Daimonji, the Dojo Destroyer came around, and that was all just in the first couple months.”
“Well, one step at a time, right?” Ranma prods Akane in the rib affectionately as she pulls on her pajama top. “We probably oughta think about school. Your dad wanted me to start right away when I got here.”
“Right…” Akane’s shoulders sag slightly. “Knowing Nabiki, she’s going to gin up the rumour mill, too. Come one, come all, to gawk at the couple engaged to each other by their old-fashioned and slightly unhinged fathers!”
“Well, I can think of a lotta worse things than folks knowing we’re engaged,” Ranma smiles. Immediately, though, the simmering complications rise to the surface of her mind. “Say, tomboy, what were you plannin’ about doin’ with the curse?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I know you’ve hadta put up with my old man’s shit about bein’ manly since you woke up as me. I guess what I’m sayin’ is… I know it ain’t the same as long as we’re mixed up, but you got this girl body at least. You don’t gotta deal with all that at school, too.”
Akane looks surprised. “Ranma, are you sure? What if we go back and everyone thinks you’re a girl?”
“You say that like half the school didn’t treat me like one anyway.” It’s not exactly an exaggeration, but in truth, Ranma knows she’s offering a little more to Akane than her own spare uniform. After all, if what they’re doing in the past ends up changing the future they’re hoping to return to, it’s hard to say whether the choices that make it more comfortable to inhabit each other’s lives in the short term will be the ones they wished for a few years out. On the other hand, Ranma balks at the thought of forcing Akane into a form alien to her sense of self without any clear benefit.
“‘Sides,” she grins, “I know you like how I look in the Furinkan girls’ uniform.”
Akane grabs a pillow from the bed and whacks Ranma with it. “Narcissist.”
“Uh huh,” Ranma dodges the pillow and grabs another one to defend herself. “That sure didn’t sound like a no to me.”
“You are so uncute.” Akane rolls her eyes, but not like she’s mad. “Now put on those pajamas already and get in bed. I’m tired, and something tells me tomorrow’s going to be almost as stupid as today.”
Her bluff called, Ranma slips out of the remainder of her clothing, feeling much more self-conscious than she has in the last month, now that there’s an audience. “Who’s the narcissist now,” Ranma says, flushing as Akane smirks and raises an eyebrow. Still, she slips on the pair of pajamas, turns off the nightstand lamp, and pulls down the covers of the bed to join Akane.
At first, she turns her back and aligns her body to Akane’s as they cuddle up to each other in bed. It doesn’t take too long—a few uncomfortable fidgets and shifts of an arm—for them both to realize the problem posed by their different heights. “You’re too tall to be the little spoon right now, Ranma,” Akane grumbles. “Come on, flip over.”
Ranma makes a vague sound of annoyance, smiling despite herself. “I’m not too tall, you’re just too short.” Still, she turns over and pulls Akane in, the absurdity of the world floating away in the face of a familiar comfort. In the hazy darkness, their features melt away, and for a few moments before she falls asleep, it’s just the two of them at home, together again, and everything is right with the world.