Chapter 21. Sunday, July 24

Ranma dreamed… She was sitting in the audience in a movie theater, watching a black-and-white film that she presumed was a classic. There was a girl, a skilled martial artist, walking with her companion through the city streets. Male suitors were trying to get the attention of both young women, but both girls dispatched them easily as they walked, revealing that the second young woman was every bit as skilled as the first. There seemed to be some chemistry between the two, and the audience around her became restless, urging them to take their relationship further. As they walked up the street, it seemed like the perfect moment, and a chant built up in the crowd, growing louder and louder, “Kiss… Kiss. Kiss!” One of the two girls suddenly looked directly at the camera and made an obscene gesture, breaking the fourth wall. Ranma felt a twinge of recognition (maybe she’d seen this film before?), but continued to watch.

Now the two girls were together at a summer festival, and again the audience was urging them to kiss. As their wishes once again went unfulfilled, the audience began booing and throwing things at the screen.

As the scene played out, Ranma felt frustration building in her as well, on two counts. First, there was her own desire to see the young couple kiss, but she also felt there was something important about the film that she was missing, something she should be seeing. Finally, it hit her: this was her own life being acted out on the screen, and the recognition caused her to wake with a start.

Ranma sighed as she rolled over. She did wish Akane would just lean in and kiss her already. But maybe she had to be the one to make the first move. Well, if that was how it had to be, then she could be Ranma Saotome of the Anything-Goes School of Martial-Arts Kissing. Five more minutes, then she’d get up. Shoulda been an anime, she mused, trying to recapture the mood of the dream. That’d be even cuter. Her home town of Nerima was famous for being the birthplace of Japanese anime after all, and while cinematic themes echoed everywhere, anime seemed most appropriate.

* * *

Akane dreamed… She and Ranma-chan were at the beach at Enoshima. They were lying side by side on towels atop the sand, with a beach umbrella providing some shade. They had matching swimsuits whose patterns mirrored their yukatas from the festival the night before, emphasizing the same connection between them. Akane turned on her side so she could stroke Ranma’s hair and look into her eyes.

“I’m so glad you decided not to fight Cologne,” Akane said softly. She continued, choosing not to speak of how worried she’d been that Ranma might be hurt, but to frame things differently. “We all have to choose our battles, and that one… that one you didn’t need to fight.”

“Exactly, Akane-chan,” Ranma replied, “why would I ever choose that fight when I could have this time with you?”

Akane hesitated, but she knew this was the moment. She leaned in towards her beloved, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a tender kiss, soft and sweet, filled with all the affection and longing that had built up between them. The world seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the moment, their hearts beating in unison. A warm feeling spread through Akane’s body as she felt their connection deepen even more.

To Akane’s regret, the dream faded. No! She wanted it back! She wanted that feeling to continue, to see what happened next… But it was gone.

Well, that’s better than my usual anxiety dreams, at least, Akane thought to herself. But she was still annoyed that her sleeping brain had found a new way to torture her. Now she was feeling… frustrated. Especially because of course the real Ranma was going to fight Cologne. It’s in her blood, she thought bitterly. She can’t help herself. Damn it.

She sighed and got up. She’d be beginning her morning with a cool shower for a variety of reasons.

* * *

By the time Akane came downstairs, the others had already started gathering and organizing things in preparation for the day out. Kasumi-oneechan had made a simple breakfast of onigiri rice balls that they could grab and eat as they got things ready. Genma was apparently insisting on bringing along an awkwardly large beach umbrella, saying it was important to have some shade, while Soun was packing a cooler with drinks and snacks. Nabiki was already dressed in a casual summer outfit, looking ready for the beach. Ranma wore one of the dresses they’d bought the day before, but only Akane seemed to notice just how stunning she looked in it. She had a small backpack containing her beach things, ready to change into once they’d arrived.

“If only we had someone strong to carry all these things,” Soun grumbled, hefting the cooler, and Genma nodded in agreement, looking pointedly at the unquestionably feminine Ranma-chan. Ranma rolled her eyes. “Yes, Pops, I’m sure your delicate constitution would be utterly ruined by carrying an umbrella or cooler.”

She enjoyed making the barb, but she was still annoyed by her father’s attitude. As if she was too weak to carry such things because she was a mere girl. Well, if they wanted to see it that way, she was happy to leave them with their very literal burden. She comforted herself by thinking that, at least in some tiny sense, they seemed to be recognizing that “the boy” was not going to be around to carry things for them anymore. They had Ranma-chan now, obviously a girl; maybe reality was finally starting to sink in.

Soon enough, they were on their way to Nerima-Takanodai Station, ready to thread their way to Enoshima. The first leg would be the Seibu Ikebukuro Line to Ikebukuro, then a short hop on the JR Yamanote Line to Shinjuku, and then a longer ride on the Odakyu Line to Enoshima itself, with a short walk to the beach. It was a bit of a journey, but nothing too arduous for a day trip.

Of course, Ranma and Akane had ridden the line to Ikebukuro only the day before. The Seibu department store would be open and not too busy at this point in the day, and it occurred to Ranma that she might be able to persuade everyone to hold up while she popped in to buy a new swimsuit. She broached the topic as they all rode the train.

“So, uh, I wondered if I could take a quick detour at Ikebukuro? I’d love to get a nicer swimsuit than the one I have, and it would just take a couple of minutes,” she ventured.

Genma laughed, “And I suppose we’ll set up on the platform while we wait? I could open the umbrella, and Soun could serve drinks! Don’t be silly. Whatever you have is fine.”

Ranma fumed. Fine. She’d wear the stupid swimsuit she had, then. Maybe she could even find someone to embroider “the” in front of the word “BOY” to really make Genma happy, or perhaps induce a bit more dissonance into his contradictory thinking.

“They sell swimsuits at the beach,” Akane offered helpfully, trying to smooth things over. “Maybe we can get you one when we get there?”

She could, of course, but the prices were always overinflated, and the selection was often subpar. She wanted a nice one, not something she’d wear for a day and discard like Ranma-kun might have done. But Akane was on her side and that helped.

“Thanks, Akane, I’ll think about it. I just didn’t want to wear that one with ‘BOY’ on the front, but, hey, if you don’t think I’m a boy, well, that’s good enough for me,” Ranma said, trying to keep her tone light, but feeling the sting of frustration.

“At this point, Ranma-chan,” Akane admitted, “it’s actually getting pretty hard for me to picture you that way. Yesterday I ran across a photo of you from a trip we took back in January, and it was… weird. Like, it sort of hurt my brain to try to reconcile then and now.”

“Welcome to my world,” Ranma replied wryly. “Besties share all the things.”

Arriving at Ikebukuro, they had to thread their way through the station to transfer to the JR Yamanote Line. The station was busy, even on a Sunday morning, with people heading out for various errands and outings. Ranma felt another surge of frustration as they passed so very close to the Seibu department store. Trains were frequent; it would be no trouble for anyone, but no, no one could stop and wait; they had to get to the Yamanote Line’s elevated platform so that they could then stand around and wait for the next train to Shinjuku.

Ranma was pleased to get to the platform and out of the crowded passageways. They weren’t too bad, but crowds were one of the rare things that reminded her of a downside of her small stature. More than a few times, she’d felt hemmed in on all sides or trapped against a wall or railing by taller people, sometimes losing sight of the rest of her family. In those moments, she needed to balance her discomfort against the martial-artist instincts that told her exactly the best ways to force a clear space around her—instincts she needed to restrain. By the time they’d reached the platform she was feeling a bit stressed.

Happily, the platform was far less crowded, giving her enough personal space to address her stress. As she waited for the train, she worked to calm her mind, closing her eyes and focusing her attention outward like an expansive net; attending to the sounds, smells, and even vibrations around her, drawing the calmness she needed from the world. She could feel the heat of the day beginning to build, and the slight stickiness of perspiration already forming on her skin. Calmer, she opened her eyes again to complete the picture of a stable world with her in it. She looked around, taking in the details of the station platform, the distinctive orange and green colors of a JR train going in the other direction, and finally the wonder of all the people dotted about on the platform, each one the lead character in their own story. Relaxed now, she began making a list of all the advantages her height offered; it was a good way to pass the time.

Their train arrived, and they all boarded. It was crowded (although nothing like rush hour), so they found Kasumi a seat while the rest of them stood nearby. The ride to Shinjuku was short, just two stops, and they soon arrived at the bustling station. Here, they had to navigate through a maze of passages and confusing signage to reach the Odakyu Line platforms. The crowds were worse here, but Ranma managed to keep the perspective she’d formed on the Ikebukuro platform; that these weren’t just oversized bodies crowding her, but people with lives and concerns. If they invaded her space, it was because they were worried they were running late, or needed to get to the dentist urgently, or were busy replaying an argument in their head and realizing what they should have said. It helped, but she still felt a bit of relief as they reached the Odakyu platform, where things were a bit less hectic.

They had timed things well, and their next train would be an express, taking a little under an hour to reach Enoshima. They boarded, this time finding seats together, and settled in for the journey. The train was comfortable, with air conditioning providing relief from the summer heat outside. As they left Shinjuku, the urban landscape gradually gave way to suburbs.

Sitting next to Akane, Ranma tried to recapture the joy she’d felt the previous evening; today, the world felt like it had too many sharp edges. They’d be at the beach soon enough, and maybe that would help. It seemed unlikely that Cologne would be looking for Ranma at a beach that was over 90 minutes from home. Cologne had promised that she would seek Ranma out for the next confrontation. Was it running from a fight if your opponent had pledged to find you and was too inept at the task? Perhaps not.

Akane had the seat by the window, and Ranma snuggled up against her. “Sorry I was grumpy earlier,” she murmured.

Akane put her arm around Ranma’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Ranma-chan. I get it. I really do.”

“Shoulda got the Romance Car,” Ranma muttered, more to herself than anyone else. The Romance Car wasn’t, as it might sound, a carriage with candle-lit tables and a dim atmosphere, just a more deluxe express service with reserved seating and a bit more comfort. But as the more expensive choice, it had never been an option from the perspective of the girls’ fathers. As she dozed a little, Ranma chose to explore the rather more romantic version she’d conjured in her imagination.

Akane woke Ranma as the train crossed the Sakai River, signaling their approach to Katase-Enoshima station. The line ran close to the banks of the river in its final approach to the station, and it was easy to anticipate the sight of the ocean beyond. They were here, finally.

They gathered their things as the train slowed and pulled into the terminus. The platform was busy with beachgoers, and the air was filled with the scent of saltwater and sunscreen. They disembarked, joining the stream of people heading towards the beach.

It would be a ten-minute walk down Subana-dōri, the main shopping street leading to the beach. The street was lined with shops selling beachwear, souvenirs, and snacks, and the atmosphere was lively and festive. There was plenty to take in, but overall, Ranma began to relax. This was just going to be a day at the beach with friends and family. Nothing more, nothing less. She and Akane could cross the bridge to Enoshima Island later if they wanted to explore, but for now, the beach awaited.

They had made it about halfway down Subana-dōri when Ranma suddenly stopped in her tracks. Ahead of them, on the right side of the street, was a storefront with a distinctive red and gold sign that read “猫飯店 夏季店” (Nekohanten—Summer Branch). The sight of it made Ranma’s heart skip a beat. The others noticed it too, and Soun pointed it out.

“Oh, look, there’s the Cat Cafe! Cologne-san mentioned they’d opened a summer location here. Said we should stop by and try it!” Soun exclaimed.

Ranma cursed her own hubris. She’d thought she had outsmarted Cologne, who could surely not predict the random behavior of her and Akane’s foolish fathers. But why would a master manipulator ever need to follow someone when you can just have them come to you? Cologne had known exactly where Ranma would be today. She’d arranged it all.

As they approached the shop, Soun and Genma stopped and began reading the menu (“Oh look, they have cold ramen!”). Ranma and Akane kept walking in the forlorn hope that they might avoid being seen if they just passed by quickly enough. But it was no use. From inside the shop, a distinctive cackle rang out. They stopped, bracing themselves for Cologne to emerge, but instead all they heard was Shampoo’s cheerful voice calling out a generic, “Welcome to Nekohanten! Please come in and try our summer specials!” to anyone and everyone. But Ranma knew; she knew that this was just another part of Cologne’s game. Everything would be on her terms.

Ranma felt the anger building inside her. The way this crone so casually played with other people’s lives. Someone needed to take a stand. Someone needed to say “Enough!” Ranma squared her shoulders. She would face Cologne. She would end this once and for all, whatever the price.

Akane looked at the girl she’d fallen so hard for. She could see the battle lust rising in Ranma’s eyes. Akane felt a pang of fear for her beloved, but telling her not to fight was pointless now; she could only offer her support. “I’m with you, Ranma-chan,” she said firmly, “whatever you need.”

“Let’s pretend to be the people they think we are,” Ranma said, after a moment’s quiet reflection as they continued their walk to the beach. “Like the Girly Girl Secret Disarming Technique we came up with yesterday, our only chance is misdirection. I… I want the Phoenix Pill, because… because life without hot water is apparently just unbearable for me or something, and you… uh… you’re still mooning after Ranma-kun and jealous he’s going to marry Shampoo or something.”

“That doesn’t sound very believable,” Akane said doubtfully, not especially relishing the role that Ranma was laying out for her.

Ranma shrugged. What else did they have?

“Oh, Ranma! Don’t marry Shampoo! How will I ever survive without a big strong man to protect me!” Akane exclaimed theatrically, trying to get into character.

“You’re a natural, Akane!” Ranma said, half jokingly. Akane felt it was a bit of a backhanded compliment, but what was she going to do?

Ranma tried out her role next. “Please, Cologne-san, give me the Phoenix Pill! I can’t live without hot water!” she cried out plaintively.

“I think you gotta work on that one,” Akane critiqued gently. “Maybe a little more desperation? And less specific about the hot water?”

“Well, I’m not gonna say I want to be a boy again. That’s a step too far. And hey, I’ve already got a swimsuit for that, right?” Ranma replied, trying to find the funny side of the situation but not quite getting there.

Reaching the beach well ahead of everyone else, their first order of business was changing into their swimsuits. They headed to the changing rooms at the beach house, paid their fees, and went inside to change. Ranma pulled out her swimsuit, looking, once again, at the word “BOY” emblazoned across the front. She sighed deeply.

“Hey. I know who you are. So do you. That’s what matters,” Akane said softly.

“Thanks, bestie.” Ranma replied, appreciating the support.

They changed into their swimsuits, stashed things in their lockers, and were out again so quickly that it seemed like the rest of the family hadn’t made it much closer to the beach than they been had the last time they’d checked. Perhaps they had been stopping and looking at shops along the way while Ranma and Akane walked past, wrapped up in their own concerns.

The beach itself was quite crowded and they walked down in the Koshigoe beach direction, eventually finding a spot big enough for everyone. Once they came into view, the girls waved to the others and soon enough most everything was set up on the sand.

* * *

Kasumi was starting to think that she needed to abandon her evening plans. The sight of the Nekohanten summer branch had made it clear that Cologne was going to try to force a confrontation today, and she was uneasy about leaving her family in what looked like it could become a dangerous situation.

She saw that Ranma was distracted, apparently trying to explain to Genma how beach umbrellas actually worked, so she approached Akane with her concerns.

“Akane-chan,” she said, getting her attention, “I had been planning to take an early train back to get ready for my evening with Dr. Tofu, but we all saw the Nekohanten, and I know Ranma-chan has unfinished business with Cologne-san. I feel like I should call Dr. Tofu and cancel our plans so that I can be here, in case I’m needed.”

“Kasumi-oneechan, no! You can’t put your own life on hold for every drama in Ranma-chan’s,” Akane replied firmly. “She wouldn’t want that! Not after all that effort she put in to try to give you some time to be your own person!”

“I… I suppose you’re right, Akane-chan,” Kasumi said, a bit surprised by Akane’s strong response. “I suppose I was just feeling a bit… protective….”

“We all feel protective of Ranma-chan,” Akane said gently. “That’s why it’s all so hard sometimes. She makes choices, and those choices have consequences. We can’t always protect her, only love her and hope everything works out.”

Kasumi wasn’t at all sure that Akane and Ranma’s enthusiasm for her spending time with Dr. Tofu outweighed her worries. Akane’s acknowledgment of the danger that followed Ranma no matter where she was didn’t help at all. She was considering her response when Ranma reappeared.

“Whatcha talking about, bestie?” Ranma asked, returning from her efforts to educate her father on the operation of everyday objects.

“Kasumi-oneechan was reminding us that she needs to head back early, that’s all,” Akane summarized, with judicious editing.

Kasumi objected, “That’s no—”

“Oh, of course! Dr. Tofu! Have a lovely evening, Kasumi-oneechan!” Ranma chimed in at the same moment, unaware that Kasumi was starting to say anything until she’d already spoken. Ranma’s enthusiasm was genuine, but also a little forced; she’d be sorry to see her go—the world was always a little better when Kasumi was around—but she really was excited to see her have a life beyond the family.

Kasumi found both girls looking expectantly at her, wondering what she had been about to say. But with both girls pushing, Kasumi now felt like she had to go or they’d be disappointed. And Dr. Tofu was probably counting on having her help at the dinner, and he would be disappointed, too.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go,” she said, laughing a bit to make it seem like they’d completely convinced her. She’d make sure Nabiki knew she’d be at home until she left to meet Dr. Tofu, and she’d leave a note with contact information in case they needed her while she was out.

Both girls beamed back at her, and she did her best to look as happy and enthusiastic as they were expecting her to be.

* * *

For the rest of the morning, Akane and Ranma enjoyed the beach. They went a little way out into the ocean (not very far at all, really, given Akane’s very limited swimming skills), played a bit in the sand, and even tried a bit of beach volleyball with Kasumi and Nabiki. The sun was warm, the water cooly refreshing, and Ranma did her best to have fun and forget about Cologne and the Phoenix Pill while still keeping her guard up; but no matter what she did, she knew things could change dramatically at any moment.

Although the cooler Soun had lugged with them had some supplies (the rest of the onigiri Kasumi had made earlier, some cut watermelon, and some cold barley tea), they needed more substantial food for lunch. Ranma suggested that she and Akane make a run to the beach’s food stalls to get some classic beach fare for everyone. The others agreed, and they set off together, leaving them to relax on the beach.

The stalls were close by, and there were plenty of options to choose from. They debated what to get, and settled on yakisoba, takoyaki, grilled corn, yakitori, and some cold drinks. They also picked up some kakigōri for dessert. Carrying their purchases back in an assortment of paper bags and containers, they returned to their temporary camp. Everyone seemed to be pleased with their selections, and they shared things out and ate while sitting on their towels, watching the waves and their fellow beachgoers.

Kasumi and Nabiki had volunteered to clear everything away afterwards, but Ranma noticed a piece of trash that they’d missed and picked it up. When she turned it over, she found that it was actually a coupon for Nekohanten’s summer location. Grimacing, she read, “Special offer for customers from Nerima location and in particular, students at the Furinkan High School, FREE noodle bowl lunch this Sunday only! Enjoy noodles at the beach!” Ranma’s frown deepened. Cologne hadn’t just enticed her family to head to the beach, she’d invited half her classmates, too. She crushed the coupon in her hand before tossing it in a bin. Maybe she’d get a chance to do some damage to the manipulative crone’s smug certainty.

She and Akane continued to try to distract themselves with beachy fun, but their apprehension about their roles as pawns in Cologne’s scheme grew stronger as the day passed. A couple of hours after lunch, Kasumi-oneechan gathered her things and said her goodbyes before heading off to catch the 2:15 p.m. Odakyu express back home. Ranma fervently hoped her evening with Dr. Tofu would go well—Kasumi deserved more happiness.

Not long after Kasumi left, an announcement came over the beach loudspeakers, telling everyone that the annual watermelon race would be starting soon, and inviting all interested participants to gather at the starting line for this free-to-enter event. Ranma and Akane looked at each other; the watermelon race sounded pretty stupid and, in any case, they already had all the watermelon they wanted in the cooler, but they supposed it might be a distraction from Ranma’s imminent confrontation with Cologne. Seeing a small crowd gathering, they decided to check it out.

As they got closer, they saw the announcer atop one of the lifeguard stations. A click came from the speakers, and he began explaining the rules, which seemed ridiculously simple: Each participant would be given a watermelon at the starting line, and when the starting pistol went off, they had to get themselves and their watermelon across the finish line, about about 50 meters further down the beach.

Next, they learned that at the finish line, the winner would find… Shampoo, who jumped up and down to attract everyone’s attention, dressed in revealing beachwear and fluttering her eyelashes seductively. Exactly what the winner would receive from Shampoo wasn’t explained—a kiss, Shampoo’s hand in marriage, or merely the chance to listen to her broken Japanese? Any of those options and many more seemed like possible rewards, but Ranma’s attention shot straight to what Shampoo wore around her neck: the Phoenix Pill locket. It had to be the real prize, in the real competition, which was undoubtedly going to be a lot more complicated than the watermelon race being used as a cover.

Akane saw the locket, too, and her mood brightened. “If all we have to do is win the watermelon race, than any of us could win!” she exclaimed. “I’m willing to kiss Shampoo if that’s all it takes to get out of here with the Phoenix Pill and keeps Ranma safe.”

“We will enter the contest to help you!” came two voices from behind them. Ranma turned and saw their fathers with joyful tears in their eyes. Soun declared, “I am willing to kiss Shampoo for the sake of my daughter’s happiness!” Genma nodded in agreement, saying, “As am I! For Ranma’s sake, I will do what I must!”

“You’re both perverts!” Akane declared, “Shampoo is barely older than your own youngest children!”

The fathers shrugged to indicate that they really didn’t know how old Shampoo might be, and in any case, they were willing to make the “sacrifice” and suffer the “shame” of kissing such an attractive young woman for the sake of their families’ happiness.

Shampoo’s appearance as a prize of some kind dramatically increased people’s interest in participating in the contest, and the starting line was suddenly crowded with eager contestants, mostly young men, many from Furinkan High School. Ranma and Akane joined the throng, and the watermelons were handed out. From the snatches of conversation they could hear around them, it seemed like most contestants had the same strategy in mind: since running with the heavy watermelon was difficult, their first task would be to take out as much of the competition as possible by destroying the watermelons of the contestants near them or tripping up their opponents if their attacks failed. So at least they had some idea about how things would probably go.

When the starting pistol sounded, a melee ensued. Chunks of watermelon flew everywhere as contestants turned on each other, trying to smash their opponents’ watermelons while protecting their own. Ranma and Akane found themselves in the thick of the skirmish, and their martial-arts skills served them well as they dodged attacks and countered with their own. Genma and Soun were also in the fray, using their own skills and doing remarkably well despite being more than twice the age of most of the participants. In fact, at one point Soun came after Ranma, yelling, “Your affections should only be for your fiancée!” She dodged his clumsy attack, but it was clear that the fathers were each eager to win the contest for themselves, at one point even turning on each other in a brief skirmish.

In all the confusion, the girls noticed that both Shampoo and Cologne had joined in as contestants and were also trying to reach the finish line. Their participation was somewhat perplexing, as it wasn’t clear what either of them could gain by winning the contest. (Could it be that Cologne’s entire elaborate plan had been staged just to give her a pretext to kiss her own great-granddaughter?)

Whatever they were thinking, Ranma was only too happy to have an opportunity to engage with Cologne in some kind of battle. As the rest of the participants from her household attacked each other on the way to the finish line, she squared off with Cologne, trading and evading blows as they each tried to protect their melons and reach the other’s. In a dramatic final exchange, Cologne sent her stick flying through the air, striking Ranma’s watermelon and shattering it, while at the same moment Ranma used her girly girl misdirection techniques to make it seem like a giant bird was about to swoop down on them; as Cologne searched the sky, Ranma knocked the melon from her hands, smashing it, and both were out of the race.

Meanwhile, the two fathers were trying to restrain Akane, saying that she shouldn’t kiss Shampoo because she was a girl and that wasn’t proper, leading Akane to summon a mallet from wherever it is that such things come to help her explain to both men that girls could kiss girls, actually, and it was just fine.

In all the confusion, Shampoo was the first to make it safely over the line with an intact watermelon, thus winning the right to do to herself whatever it was that the contest allowed. She seemed to be overjoyed with her win, but then Cologne ran up to her, berating her in rapid-fire Chinese with the odd Japanese word thrown in; somewhere in the barrage they heard Cologne call Shampoo a “stupid girl”, using the exact words and tone of voice she had with Ranma at the Nekohanten. Still furious, she snatched the Phoenix Pill from Shampoo’s neck.

Shampoo seemed stunned after Cologne’s rant, and, more confused than angry, she yelled, “But how I win Ranma as husband now?” to Cologne’s back. Cologne ignored her, putting the locket back around her own neck and heading directly towards Ranma.

Meanwhile, Akane had caught up with Ranma, having left their fathers trying to explain to each other how they certainly hadn’t been knocked down by a “mere girl”. They saw Cologne bounding towards them, stick in hand.

“Now the real battle begins, Ranma Saotome!” Cologne declared loudly, still some distance away, “Defeat me and earn the Phoenix Pill, lose and you must marry Shampoo!”

“Oh, Ranma,” Akane yelled flatly. “I am so jealous. Please don’t marry Shampoo. Think of poor Kuno-senpai!” She was trying to play the role Ranma had stuck her with, but her heart just wasn’t in it.

Ranma remembered her part as well, and shouted, “I simply cannot live without hot water! The Phoenix Pill must be mine! I agree to your terms, and if I lose, I will (if she really wishes it) take the necessary steps to marry Shampoo,” she lowered her voice just a little so the old crone would not hear her continue but Akane and everyone nearby would, “to Kuno-senpai.”

“I am so jealous,” Akane repeated. “I’ll have no man to marry, what will I do?,” she continued, desperately trying to avoid laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“To defeat me you must catch me first!” Cologne declared, and she turned and bounced away on her stick at an implausibly high speed, heading towards the Enoshima Benten Bridge and rapidly crossing it to reach Enoshima Island itself. Ranma ran after her in hot pursuit, with Akane close behind. Much further back came a small group of contestants and observers from the watermelon contest who apparently thought that this chase was just another spectacle that anyone could participate in.

Once across the bridge, Cologne and Ranma raced through the streets and up numerous flights of stairs as they headed to the cliffs at the south end of the island. Ranma’s legs burned as she pushed herself upward to keep up with Cologne, who seemed to be enjoying the chase immensely. Akane couldn’t match their pace on the stairs and lost sight of Ranma as they climbed above her, but she could hear their shouts and cries, with Cologne taunting Ranma, and Ranma enthusiastically proclaiming that she wished Kuno and Shampoo every happiness.

Finally, Ranma caught up with Cologne at the top of the cliffs. Cologne had come to a stop near the edge, backed only by the ocean and the sky. Ranma briefly hoped Cologne finally had nowhere left to go, but she was disappointed when Cologne used her stick and some kind of water magic to conjure an enormous crest of water that rose up behind her, picked her up, and gently carried her down into the sea. Akane arrived, panting, just in time to see Cologne’s retreat. Ranma was at the cliff’s edge staring down at the rocks far below.

“No, Ranma! Don’t!” Akane declared, sensing what Ranma was about to do. But it was too late—Ranma dove gracefully from the clifftop, disappearing into the frothy surf.

From the cliff, she watched Ranma struggling to make any headway at all in the surging waters, trying to catch up with Cologne in an environment where Cologne clearly held all the cards. Acting Principal Ishida’s ominous words resurfaced in her mind: “Beware the sea!”

Cologne seemed to recede rapidly away from shore on her magic wave, but Akane’s attention was drawn by a large shark fin moving to meet her from even further out. She realized that Cologne must have somehow summoned the creature and was planning to return and use it to vanquish Ranma.

Her fear of Ranma being mauled and swallowed by an aquatic predator drove Akane to action. She dove from the cliff, aiming for the spot where Ranma was being buffeted by the waves. During her descent, as the water drew closer and closer, it occurred to her that perhaps she really should have taken swimming lessons at some point rather than repeatedly putting it off, as the churning sea provided a far from ideal environment for a first lesson.

“Shark!” Akane shouted, before disappearing under the water. As she sank, Akane felt that she really should have done more to internalize Acting Principal Ishida’s words about ocean peril. It also occurred to her that she had even less practice with drowning than she did with swimming, but presumably a lesson in the former was about to begin. And then she realized that the last words she was sure anyone had heard were “No, Ranma! Don’t!” and before that, a declaration of her jealousy that Shampoo would marry Kuno. As she continued to sink, she considered how in movies people never died like this—never this oddly detached sense. The sense that it was all ironic to the point of being funny. That life itself was profoundly absurd. She imagined a panel in a manga depicting her predicament and readers laughing heartily at the situation. She felt a strange calm come over her as she accepted her fate.

Suddenly Ranma was beside her in the deep, wrapping her arms around Akane’s body and hauling her towards the surface. Ranma’s touch broke the spell, and Akane went from a sense of peacefully awaiting death to sudden panic like the flick of a light switch. Ranma kept trying to reach the surface but it was profoundly difficult. Eventually, Akane’s head broke the water and she gasped for air, but then the shark sped by and they had to dive beneath the waves again.

The cycle repeated, but their closeness to the rocks made it hard for the speeding shark piloted by Cologne to reach them. Eventually Ranma got Akane far enough up the rocky shore that she could pull herself clear and breathe again.

Ranma hauled herself out of the water to regroup and consider her best next step.

“Just stop, Ranma-chan,” Akane begged. “We don’t need the Phoenix Pill, and I don’t mind if you officiate at Shampoo’s wedding. Kuno will be delighted. Walk away. Please. Just walk away.”

“I can’t just walk away,” Ranma replied, her voice strained. “I told you. It’s not just about me, it’s about everyone that hag thinks she can control. She needs to be stopped and I need to do it.”

Their standoff was broken by the unexpected appearance of Shampoo, who clambered down the cliff to join them.

“I help! You come to wedding?” Shampoo offered eagerly. She wasn’t completely sure who she would soon be marrying, but she was still excited. She was also angry that her great-grandmother had called her stupid, and that pushed her to help Ranma.

The second Shampoo showed up, Akane saw an idea occur to Ranma, and she knew exactly what it was. “No, Ranma-chan, don’t do it!” she pleaded. “Don’t use the Cat Fist again! You can’t control it!”

Ranma ignored her and switched into her girly girl misdirection mode. “Oh, Shampoo, I love that you could come to our beach party! And a wedding (to Kuno) sounds delightful! Come here!” she exclaimed, arms outstretched to offer a hug.

Shampoo eagerly ran forward, but Ranma stepped aside at the last moment, causing Shampoo to run straight out along the rocky outcrop into the water, where she immediately transformed into her cat form. The cat yowled miserably; flung about by the swirling waters around the rocks.

“NO, RANMA!” Akane screamed as Ranma dove into the water after Shampoo.

Perhaps, like the leopard warriors of old, Shampoo had forgotten that she was a person, because she was certainly acting like a panicked cat. She immediately latched onto Ranma’s head, and Ranma felt the powerhouse of was her ailurophobia kicking in. Within seconds, her Cat Fist persona had taken over. Ranma herself would remember nothing more from this point on.

Akane watched from the rocks as the fight raged on. In Cat Fist mode, Ranma could do things that seemed to defy even the laws of physics, and she quickly had the shark on the defensive, slashing at it with incredible speed and agility. The shark thrashed and snapped, but Ranma’s cat-like reflexes allowed her to evade its attacks and strike back with precision. But even in Cat Fist mode, the sea was a cruel enemy, and Cologne used her water magic to repeatedly sweep Ranma under the waves at key moments.

The battle raged on so long that some of the onlookers started looking at their watches, and a few even left. Ranma eventually cornered the shark, driving it onto the rocks. There she tore it to shreds in a gruesome display of feline ferocity that showered blood and bits of shark meat all over the rocks. Some of the remaining onlookers vomited involuntarily at the horrific display and its associated smell—some had their relationship with seafood permanently altered by the experience.

Finally done, Ranma dived into the water to wash off the blood and bits of shark that covered her, and then came directly to Akane, who sat down, allowing Ranma to curl up on her lap after licking her hands as if they were paws before falling asleep.

Ranma would take a while to return to normal. She had defeated the shark, Cologne’s commandeered instrument, but Cologne herself was nowhere to be seen. As Akane sat, stroking Ranma’s head, she could not shake the feeling that this fight had been a futile and dangerous waste of time that had nearly cost both of them their lives.

Akane and Ranma hadn’t been resting long before Genma and Soun arrived, having followed a path around the eastern edge of the island to get to the scene.

“Did Ranma win?” her father asked eagerly. Genma looked equally hopeful.

Akane would have been angry about their fixation on the result of the battle, but she was too drained from her nearly fatal part in it. “No,” she said flatly. “No. Ranma-chan, Shampoo, and I all nearly died, but no opponents were vanquished, and no prizes were taken.” She turned towards Genma, “No doubt if you’d only been more abusive to Ranma-chan in her childhood, the outcome would have been different—she would have risked herself even more for her precious pride.”

“Well, no use crying over spilled milk, eh?”, Soun said cheerfully. “Let’s get Ranma back to the beach, I’m sure Nabiki will be wondering what we’ve been up to.”

Genma nodded in agreement and stepped into a puddle of cold sea water, enough to effect his giant panda transformation. Akane was always struck at how Genma’s clothes would be left neatly on the ground afterwards. Someday, she resolved, she might try to find out how that worked. She briefly envisaged herself in the role of Imperial Physician Chen, her quest for knowledge causing Genma endless torment. In her dark mood, she rather liked the idea of Genma suffering, but it was only a fleeting fantasy; she could never be capable of that level of cruelty.

Genma’s panda form easily hoisted the sleeping Ranma onto his shoulder, and she snuggled happily in his fur, making purring sounds, still asleep. They walked back in silence. Akane had frequently marveled at the way people could see an oversized panda walking along the street, or apparently performing ordinary human tasks, and seemingly just tune it out. She wondered if the human brain simply refused to see things that were so far outside its everyday experience. Her best guess for people’s obliviousness to Genma’s panda form was that they assumed it was some kind of promotional costume. People could lie to themselves so easily about so many things.

It turned out that Nabiki had spent the entire time since everyone left for the watermelon contest reading a book, Twelve Skills Entrepreneurs Need to Succeed, and hadn’t been particularly interested in all the goings-on. There was always drama when Ranma was involved—a little less with Ranma-chan than with Ranma-kun, true, but it never really went away. She put down her book as she saw them returning. When they’d reached her, Akane began explaining, and Nabiki got the high points: Cologne. Battle. Phoenix Pill. Shark. Cat Fist. Long battle. Failure. Sea dangerous. Ranma asleep.

When Akane finished telling her tale, Ranma was still snuggled on her father’s shoulder, so she headed to the beach house to shower off the salt and change back into her street clothes. When she got back, the panda seemed to pleased to see her and carefully deposited Ranma’s sleeping form on her lap. Her own father muttered something about needing to leave soon, and then he and the panda then set off on their own, presumably in search of hot water to transform Genma back to a form more suitable for a train carriage. Akane resumed stroking Ranma’s hair as she slept; at this point, she just felt tired and sad.

In Akane’s lap, Ranma’s mind slowly found its way back to normal human consciousness. Her fingertips hurt—that was the first thing she always noticed after the Cat’s Fist. Her nails would take at least a week to fully recover, she reckoned. She looked around blearily, trying to piece together what had happened. Akane was there, of course, looking down at her with a worried expression that shifted into relief as she watched. She spotted Nabiki, too, who looked curious but not overly concerned. She didn’t see either of their fathers, but she did see from a clock on a nearby lifeguard tower that it was almost 4 p.m. Ranma felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. And she was also hungry. Very hungry. Perhaps for sushi.

Ranma unwound herself from Akane’s lap and sat up, stretching her arms above her head, then her back, then her legs. She opened the cooler and was pleased to find the rice balls and watermelon were still there, although the barley tea was warm now. She ate a couple of onigiri and some watermelon; taking the edge off her hunger.

“Did I… win…?” she asked weakly.

No, Ranma, your idiocy nearly cost three people their lives, including you, but also me. That was what Akane wanted to say, but she didn’t want a fight. That was the heart of her frustrated disappointment, the endless, pointless fighting when there was no need to fight at all. So she just said, “No,” in a flat tone.

“Oh,” Ranma said, disappointed but not completely surprised. She sighed deeply. “Did I… hurt anyone?”

“No one died. Shampoo’s fine; just a bit shaken up,” Akane replied.

“I suppose I’ll have to learn how to perform a wedding ceremony for her upcoming nuptials with Kuno-senpai then?” Ranma said softly, trying to make Akane laugh, but she was too drained to add much expression to her words.

“She’ll insist on paying you in kisses”, Akane rejoined, trying weakly to return the humor. “ ‘I’m so jealous. I’m so jealous ’,” she added unenthusiastically, repeating her low-effort acting from earlier.

They both chuckled a little. Ranma leaned back against Akane, closing her eyes. “I just want to go home,” she murmured.

“Well, you’d better go get changed then,” Akane suggested. “Want me to come with you?”

“Thanks for the offer, bestie, but unlike yesterday, today I think I can get dressed unassisted,” Ranma replied, trying to fake some energy. “I’ll be back soon.”

At the beach house, Ranma showered, then went to her locker to retrieve the bag with her clothes and towel. She was sitting on the bench and putting on her shoes when a familiar but unwelcome voice brought her up with a start.

“Well, Ranma-chan, you surprised me,” said Cologne, who had somehow managed to insert herself on the bench beside Ranma without her knowing. “I don’t think I’ve had an opponent as strong in the last 50 years.”

“But I didn’t win,” Ranma replied, repeating what she had been told. As usual, the Cat Fist had left her with a yawning gap in place of her memories of the fight.

“You didn’t lose either. I choose my battles, Ranma-chan, and I chose a strategic withdrawal. You have proven yourself worthy. Here.” Cologne reached into her pocket and produced the Phoenix Pill locket, holding it out to Ranma.

Ranma accepted the locket containing the pill in a state of mild shock. Somehow she’d done it after all. As before, she weighed it in her hand before opening it to confirm that the pill was really there, then carefully placed it at the bottom of her backpack. She was too tired to deal with the questions that actually having the pill raised right now. She also suspected that if their fathers knew, they’d surely make her take it just to get her to carry the cooler and umbrella back home.

She turned to say something more to Cologne, but she was gone. She supposed she should feel something. Happy? Relief that this chapter was finally over? But she was just exhausted. She’d tell Akane about the pill tonight, safe at home, and, she hoped, feeling more herself. Everyone else could be told about it in the coming days; perhaps Dr. Tofu would be next.

Her hunger had returned by the time she’d rejoined Akane and Nabiki, and she finished off the rest of the rice balls as they began packing up. Genma and Soun had come back as well, and soon enough, they were all headed back to the station, loaded up with the various things they’d brought to the beach. Everyone seemed subdued; each lost in their own thoughts.

At the station, Nabiki suggested they get ekiben (station bento boxes) for the journey home, voicing a craving they all shared (with Ranma’s being especially enthusiastic). A day trip wouldn’t feel complete without having one on some part of the journey, so they checked out the kiosks, which looked like they’d been very well-stocked earlier in the day, but were now showing some gaps. There was still a broad selection available, and Ranma picked one of the larger options to match her appetite, with salmon and tempura; the others selected smaller boxes (given that it was still relatively early and Kasumi would undoubtedly have set out some food for when they got home, there was no sense in stuffing themselves with station food, however nice it might be).

Once aboard the train, the fathers took seats a little further down the carriage from the girls, saying that they didn’t need to hear old men grumbling. Akane and Ranma were glad to have a bit of privacy, and Nabiki didn’t care either way as she had her book to finish. Even so, she couldn’t help noticing the downbeat mood the two girls shared. Clearly, they’d been through a lot. Ranma’s chaos always was a lot.

Nabiki had, of course, brought her camera bag with her in case she got a chance to advance her Ranma-based side business, but she’d been absorbed in her book and missed out on whatever it was Ranma and Akane had been doing.

Nabiki didn’t always pay as much attention to her family as she should, but the girls’ obvious melancholy was such a sharp contrast to the joy they’d shown last night that she felt a twinge of sadness herself. She couldn’t let that go on very long—it was bad for business!

That thought led her to last night’s impromptu photo session, where she’d taken two whole rolls worth of pictures of Akane, Ranma, and Kasumi in different combinations, which led her to recall that the undeveloped film was tucked away in the bottom of her bag.

She thought for a moment—if she got off at Ikebukuro, she could get the film developed at the Seibu one-hour photo lab. While she was waiting, she could hang out with Miyu at her grandparents’ shop. Hmm. This could work. Maybe she could even convince Miyu’s grandmother to give her another shot at their books; last night Miyu was complaining about her mother and grandmother arguing all the time. Yes, she decided; she’d do it. It would give her a break from Akane and Ranma’s downcast mood, and she knew those photos would put a smile on their faces. (And a few extra yen in her pocket.)

* * *

Ranma had dived into her bento as soon as they boarded, devouring its contents incredibly fast, as she was wont to do. Some things about Ranma might never be particularly feminine, Akane mused.

She was asleep again now, but Akane was wide awake, her bento untouched. She opened it and picked at it, not being as in the mood for the light meal as she’d hoped she would in the station. Moments from earlier in the day kept flashing through her mind. Her own near-fatal descent into the depths of the sea. Trying to get Ranma not to do stupid or dangerous things over and over and being ignored. Like she wasn’t even there. Like Genma ignored her.

Other related grievances joined the mix as well; like the way Kasumi and Nabiki had thought it was fine not to tell her what was really going on with Ranma’s true desires. What the hell? She was always on the sideline. The third wheel. Last to know. She fumed. No one ever cared what she thought or felt.

A tiny voice in the back of her head reminded her of where she was in her cycle and suggested her negativity might be period-related, and that just made her mood even worse. Damn it! Ranma’s rants about the patriarchy joined the churn. Men. Arrogance. Fighting. Selfishness. Her seething emotions came to a boil, but she managed to keep her face fairly neutral.

When Ranma woke up, she had no idea what was waiting for her in Akane’s head.

“Any nightmares, Ranma-chan?” Akane asked in a saccharine tone.

Ranma had hoped for dreams—dreams that might tell her about what she’d done in the throes of the Cat Fist—but, no, just darkness. “No nightmares, bestie. Just… nothing,” she replied a bit sadly, having missed Akane’s tone entirely.

Akane knew her response was meant to reassure her, but Ranma’s relaxed, almost carefree tone set her off. She launched into a rant about how nice it must be to not have nightmares about such traumatic events. That remembering nothing from her Cat Fist fugue must be great compared to the horror of watching a giant shark literally being torn to pieces in front of you with blood and chunks of who knows what flying everywhere. It must be so wonderful to just be able to ignore people like all men do.

SHIT! She’d gone too far. Way too far. She should never, ever have said that to Ranma. She saw Ranma flinch and pull away from her, curling into herself. What have I done? What can I do?

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Ranma-chan! I didn’t mean it. Not like that—not at all,” she babbled, desperately trying to take back her stupid barb.

But the damage was already done. “No, no, Akane,” Ranma said evenly. “You speak your truth. You’re right. I haven’t had all the years under the thumb of the patriarchy that you have. I haven’t been beaten down to subservience. I just didn’t have the socialization that you did. No, you’re right. I’m not a proper girl at all. No wonder I keep that swimsuit! It’s a perfect warning to everyone that I’m not a real girl at all.”

“Hey, cool it, you two,” interjected Nabiki. They were just way too good at hurting each other once they got going. She didn’t want to get involved, but sometimes, well, it was right in your face when you were trying to read.

Shamed by the realization that there was an audience for their fight, and worse, not just Nabiki, Ranma and Akane fell silent. But the pain was still there, written deeply across both their faces. The damage was done.

On their arrival at Shinjuku station, their fathers reappeared. They seemed to be in better spirits, but that only made the contrast between their moods and those of the girls more stark. The group made their way to the Yamanote Line for Ikebukuro; on the way, Nabiki announced her plan to run some errands in Ikebukuro and perhaps catch up with Miyu. She would see them later at home.

Nabiki’s announcement gave Ranma an idea. She and Akane needed some space, a bit of distance to let their argument burn out and gain some perspective. Once they arrived in Ikebukuro, Nabiki left on her mission and Ranma boarded the train for Nerima-Takanodai with everyone else. She had a good sense of when the doors would close, thanks in part to Ryoga’s mistake, and as the chime sounded, she quickly informed them that she needed a bit of time to go and shop for a swimsuit and that she’d be back at the dojo around 8 p.m. Before anyone could react, she stepped backwards just as the doors closed. She saw Akane staring at her through the glass of the window, her face stricken with grief. Maybe you’ll miss me.

She watched the train recede into the distance. The station clock read six o’clock. She had plenty of time to get something more to eat (everything she’d already eaten that afternoon still hadn’t made up for the energy she’d burned off during the fight). And after that, she’d head to the department store.

Given everything that had happened, not just on the train but the rest of the day’s ordeal as well, she wasn’t really in the mood for shopping. Especially without Akane’s advice, which had always been incredibly helpful. Ranma kicked herself mentally. Damn it. Why did she have to be such a jerk? She could have excused herself nicely, with less drama. But no, she had to make it all theatrical, a grand performance—she had to “win”. Stupid. Selfish. Childish.

But she really was hurting. They’d been doing so well, but what Akane had said was one thing that could do the most damage to her sense of who she was. Even if it was true. Especially because it was true. She felt tears welling up again and forced them down. Food. Food then shopping. Distract yourself.

* * *

Aboard the train to Nerima-Takanodai, Akane sat quietly. She’d badly hurt the person she loved most in the world, and that was a horrible thing to know. She often criticized Ranma for being impulsive, but what had she just done? Making it worse was that when Ranma stormed off in a huff, she’d usually be able to run after her, but Ranma had made that impossible with her closing door stunt. Right now, all Akane wanted was to get home, go to her room and close the door, find a cassette with some music that might smother the swirling thoughts in her head, and let her escape. Escape from all of this.

* * *

When Akane and the fathers got home, they found a note from Kasumi on the table. She had indeed left a few things out for them: some snacks and drinks, and a smaller note with the phone number of the hotel where the fundraiser was being held in case they needed to reach her. Even on her way to a date, Kasumi-oneechan couldn’t set aside her selfless devotion to everyone’s well being.

A burst of conflicting emotions flashed through Akane’s head. Kasumi’s perfect love; Kasumi’s pathological self-sacrifice; Ranma’s adorableness; Ranma’s stupidity; her own temper and stubbornness…. She swallowed hard to stop herself from sobbing, closed her eyes for a second while she got herself under better control, grabbed a packet of some sort of snack food and went to her room.

Door closed, she dug out her Walkman and rummaged through her cassette collection. She picked one up—Matsuda Seiko’s Silhouette—and considered, but then put it back. It was much too cheerful for her current mood. She needed something louder; something to drown out her thoughts. After flipping through a few more tapes, she settled on an album by The Blue Hearts.

Some girls she knew had stereos in their rooms with powerful speakers. But her speakers distorted if you turned the stereo up too loud. Even if they didn’t, she was sure her father would be scandalized by learning what sort of music she listened to. So her Walkman and headphones were her go-to. She made sure the player was set to auto-reverse and loop, put on her headphones, and set the volume as loud as a sensible person like her would allow, which wasn’t nearly as loud as she wanted.

* * *

In Ikebukuro, Nabiki had successfully dropped off the film at the one-hour photo lab and then walked over to Kimono Yamaguchi to see Miyu. She wasn’t exactly sure when they closed, but they would probably have just closed up or would be about to do so.

She could pretend she was now a customer, impressed by her sister’s outfit, or maybe just regale Miyu with stories of Ranma’s latest antics. She could have paid more attention to whatever it was that Akane had told her this afternoon, but she was sure that she had the high points and she could embellish from there. It’s not like it was all that complicated—argument, fight scene, argument, fight scene; rinse and repeat. Their relationship had a… whole dynamic that never seemed to change, so she was sure she could put something plausible together to amuse Miyu-chan.

That would easily fill the time until the photos were ready, then she’d head back to pick them up and catch the train home.

* * *

At the Imperial Hotel, Kasumi was trying to navigate her way through the unfamiliar world of the fundraiser. She did like Dr. Tofu, and enjoyed spending a bit of time with him, but she was increasingly sure that agreeing to this particular outing had probably been a mistake.

She’d left the beach early, of course, so she had no idea what might have happened with Ranma. Not knowing nagged at her, but she’d made sure she could be reached if they needed her. The more immediate issue was that the fundraiser itself wasn’t quite what she’d hoped for. Early on, someone had asked her “So what do you do?” and she’d locked up for a moment. What did she do? Mostly she looked after her family as a poor surrogate for her dear mother who had passed away when they were all too young. She didn’t have a lot of experience in social situations, but she was pretty sure that saying any of that out loud would kill the conversation instantly.

But she was Kasumi Tendo. Despite her pressured choice to leave school and take care of her devastated family, and the unfazeable, helpful, and slightly naïve character she usually played (especially at home), she had inherited her mother’s careful intelligence rather than her father’s foolishness and quickly developed a strategy to deal with this awkward new situation.

She would make the first move in conversations with potential donors, first asking them about “their passions”, and, after listening attentively, they’d reciprocate and ask the same of her, which allowed her to talk about just how important rural clinic access was to her, and how she hoped that one day, everyone would have access to good healthcare no matter where they lived. Her speech was mostly made up of talking points from a pamphlet she’d glanced at in the lobby, but she thought she was making a good show of it. People seemed to agree that this cause was important, and she hoped she was helping the organization meet its fundraising goals. But it felt rather more like work than like fun, even if she had Dr. Tofu at her side for some of it.

* * *

In Ikebukuro, Miyu walked with Nabiki to the one-hour photo at the Seibu department store. She enjoyed Nabiki’s company, but quite why she needed to try to impress her with these fantastical stories about Ranma Saotome was beyond her. Miyu had seen the girl quite clearly in the fitting room, and the idea of her somehow fighting a giant shark was so over the top that it really made you wonder what was going on in Nabiki’s head.

On the other hand, she definitely wanted to see the photos of Ranma and Akane in their yukatas; if they were as good as Nabiki claimed, it might be nice to get a copy and put one in the shop to show customers that young people were still doing the classics. Besides, leaving aside her tall tales, Nabiki was pretty cool, and she didn’t have anything better to do this evening.

* * *

The platform clock at Ikebukuro station read 7:22 p.m. Ranma had a ten-minute wait for the next train. She was feeling a lot better. The food had helped, and, although she’d initially wandered the department store’s aisles somewhat listlessly, she managed to get herself into the swing of things and started looking with a bit more focus. She found several things that she kind of liked, and she decided she wanted to come back with Akane for a second opinion. She also bought the swimsuit she’d come for, and a peace offering for Akane, too. Overall, she felt like—after this short break and a good night’s sleep—they’d both be able to look back at their fight today, and… well, probably not laugh about it, but at least be able to reconcile and move on.

* * *

In her room, Akane found that lying on her bed rocking out was helping a bit. She swapped tapes for another album by the same band and laid back. The great thing about music you knew well, she thought, is that it was so easy to fall into its groove.

* * *

At the Imperial Hotel, Kasumi looked at her watch. It looked like she’d probably have to stay at least another hour before she excused herself, but maybe she could slip away early? Next time—if there was a next time—they were going to a museum, a movie, maybe even a candlelight dinner for two. Why was she so afraid of “going on a date” anyway? She wondered again about Ranma. But someone would have called the hotel to tell her if something had gone badly wrong. Right? The kid was such a mixed bag, but she had a real fierceness about her. Ranma would never have let herself get sidelined into being a substitute mom. Ranma would grow up to be someone. Akane, too. All three of the girls, really. She supposed that helping make that happen was important, too. But maybe there could be something more for her, too.

* * *

It was only a few minutes after 8 p.m. when Ranma made it back to the Tendo residence. She felt like she’d hit her mark pretty well. It was odd that the house was so dark and quiet, but then again, it was just Akane and their fathers. Maybe they were all in the back of the house or something. She opened the door and went inside.

She had barely taken off her shoes when her father and then Soun surprised her when they joined her in the genkan. “Successful shopping trip?” Genma asked.

“I picked up a couple of small things,” Ranma replied, tapping her backpack. “Nothing major.”

“Good, good,” Genma said. He and Soun exchanged glances. “So… I think… uh… it’s time we had a talk, Ranma… -chan. Perhaps we could walk over to the dojo; it’s a nice open space for an open conversation, and the fans there are the best in the house.”

Ranma thought the living room, with its air conditioner, would be better, but it didn’t really matter to her. She followed the two men into the dojo. Genma stood awkwardly, and Soun glanced away.

“So, uh, Ranma-chan,” Genma began, “these have been a tough few weeks for all of us, and, in talking to Soun, here, we came to the conclusion that we’ve both been a little… unreasonable in our expectations. We haven’t appreciated how difficult things have been for you. We haven’t helped as we should. With everything that happened today, we know that things need to change.”

Genma paused and cleared his throat before continuing, “But most of all, I want to say, I’m sorry.” He opened his arms wide to offer a hug, and Ranma could see tears in his eyes.

Ranma recalled how earlier in the day, she had offered a hug to Shampoo only to step aside and trip her. But it would be ridiculous to imagine that her father would go to these lengths just to do that to her, and in any case, if she ended up flat on her back, he’d take her place soon after. You need to stop being so defensive, she told herself, If Pops wants to hug his daughter, for God’s sake, let him!

She stepped into his arms and they embraced. Soun stepped in to make it a group hug, saying, “I’m sorry, too.”

Ranma felt herself melt in her father’s embrace. This was finally it. This was acceptance. She’d written her father off, but people were complicated. He loved her. She was his daughter. She enjoyed the moment.

Suddenly, she noticed something was wrong. Genma’s arm had shifted. She realized he was using the Sode Guruma Jime—the Sleeper Hold. She tried to pull away, to wriggle or force herself free, but Genma’s grip was like iron, and she found that Soun had grabbed her from behind, as well. Her vision started to blur. She tried to speak, to scream, but the hold stopped her from making any sound. She began to panic as she realized what was happening and that she couldn’t stop it. She kept trying to struggle, but it was no use. The world around her faded to black as she lost consciousness.

* * *

In her room, Akane checked her watch. Ranma had said she’d be home by now. She’d hoped for a knock and then to see Ranma standing in the doorway, looking sheepish and ready to make up. But no knock came. No Ranma. She was either taking longer than she’d expected on her trip or she was home, but deliberately freezing her out. Well, two could play at that game. She shifted to a more comfortable position and returned her attention to the music.

* * *

In Ikebukuro, Miyu and Nabiki were having fun at an arcade. Nabiki was good, but she was better. But right now, they were playing OutRun, and Nabiki was really nailing it. Perhaps Na-chan would be hard to beat on that one, but she’d be happy to try.

* * *

At the fundraiser, Kasumi looked at her watch. She needed to be getting home soon. She’d done enough here, and she needed to know that everyone was safe.

* * *

In the dojo, Ranma’s mind swam back to consciousness. Keeping her eyes closed, she used her enhanced sense of her body to make an assessment. She was lying on her stomach, on some kind of hard board. It was not comfortable. She was still wearing the same summer dress she’d worn all day. Disturbingly, her hands and feet were tied. Her limbs were bound further up as well. There was a gag in her mouth, but no blindfold. Her head was pounding. Maybe they’d done something more than the sleeper hold. Maybe they’d used a drug or some other chemical afterwards to keep her out longer. Which meant she didn’t know how much time had passed. She listened. The two men were arguing.

“I still don’t know, Saotome,” Soun was saying. “There’s a lot of red ink here warning that the chances of success are low.”

“It’s a bit late for that now, Tendo,” Genma replied. “We agreed. This is necessary for both our children. You need to do it for Akane, and I need to do it for Ranma. You saw him today. You saw that swimsuit. He was crying out, sending us a message. We can’t expect him to fight all his battles single-handedly.”

Genma sighed, then continued, “The boy tried to get the Phoenix Pill, and he failed. He needs another option. Yes, it’s risky, but I will take any risk for my son. And if it fails, there’s no real harm done. We’ll just try again another time. Anyway, you got that book from the library. You read it. You need to do your part.”

Ranma summoned the ice cave to help dampen the swirl of emotions she was feeling, which included betrayal, anger, panic, and disgust. Those emotions were mixed in with a little self-hatred: she should have burned that infernal swimsuit the day she’d found it, and she should never have been so gullible as to trust her father. She knew his history only too well.

She tried to run through her options, but there were precious few. She opened her eyes just a little, to see what she could see without any obvious movement. She was in the dojo, which she already knew. Her backpack was a little way away, but certainly out of reach. If only the two idiot men knew that the Phoenix Pill they wanted so badly was inside! Nearby there were at least two buckets, perhaps there were more beyond, but it was hard to see. From the steam rising from them, they both had hot water, but one might be hotter than the other.

So that was their plan. They were going to splash her with hot water to cause a transformation despite the pain the Cat’s Tongue pressure point would induce? Well, once they’d done that, then what? They couldn’t leave her tied to a board in male form forever, and when they untied her, well, then there was really going to be a reckoning.

Then she saw it. Nabiki’s folder detailing the Leopard’s Fate Manipulation Technique. She could see there were still several pages inside; probably the entire story of the Bào Yǐng Shè and all the dire warnings it contained. She felt violated by the thought of one of the men rummaging around in her room and finding the folder, but far more incensed that they hadn’t even properly read the whole thing. Clearly, they’d managed to miss all the dire warnings it contained, focusing only on the page with the diagram. But that was true to form. Of course it was. This was her father’s MO, through and through.

She was out of options. She did her best to scream and wriggle free. But it was ineffective, the screams muted by the gag and her body constrained by her bonds.

It did, however, draw the men’s attention back to her. “Lie still, Ranma,” her father said, presumably trying to sound comforting. “It’s dangerous for you to move suddenly, I’m sure you know that. We can always put you out again, but that’s always risky, so just lie still, son. It will all be over soon.”

Genma knelt with his knees on her shoulders, crushing her breasts against the board and holding her in place even more firmly. His hands were back at her throat, ready to perform another blood-blocking hold if need be, as Soun began his work.

She felt just a tiny prick as the first acupuncture needle went in. Then the second was inserted, taking the diagonal position. When the third went in, Ranma could feel something she could only describe as deep wrongness. But the strangest sensation occurred when Soun inserted a needle in the fourth and final point that would bind her curse. It felt a bit like there was a jellyfish stuck on her back between the needles, but that wasn’t quite it. The feeling wasn’t on the outside or the inside of her skin—it was on the other side. And it was fainter than something you’d could actually touch in the world. And it was throbbing; writhing. It was her curse.

It was not exactly a sentient entity, but in its own way, it was unhappy. It did not wish to be bound, to be contained; it was an affront to its nature. Ranma sensed somehow that it did not even know or care what humans were, that they had just somehow become tangled into it, like garbage caught in a net. The changes the curse made were just its attempt to accommodate itself to the detritus of humanity that it had become mixed up with. It was tainted now, unable to be the pure thing it once was, unable to go back to how things had been in the world so long ago.

Ranma didn’t know this information so much as feel it in a way that could never be properly described to anyone. The tortured members of the Bào Yǐng Shè had, no doubt, felt the same things in the hands of Imperial Physician Chen.

A new sensation on her back seemed to be Soun drawing something with a marker; she could feel the movement of the felt and the chill of the ink, determining the positions of the two remaining points that could adjust the set points of her curse. She wriggled to disrupt the process, but Genma just pressed down harder with his knees and gave a slight squeeze at her throat to indicate that she should not push her luck.

In her mind, although she had never really considered herself a believer, Ranma called out to Izanami in the hopes that the goddess of both creation and death might hear her plea. “Please, Izanami-sama, help me. Please, do not let them do this to me. I beg of you.” She also tried reaching out to the bound curse on her back. Remember me! I felt your comfort. I love you! Please, free yourself, escape your bonds! But if the curse understood her at all, it undoubtedly had already wanted to break free but could not.

As the first of the adjustment needles slid into place, she felt a change in the curse. It was not struggling in the same way, not trying to free itself. And when the second one slipped into place, the curse’s struggle stopped completely. Obedience.

“It’s not very clear what to do next,” Soun complained. “It says something about manipulating the needles but isn’t very specific.”

“Push right for hotter, left for colder, I’d imagine?” said Genma.

IDIOTS! Ranma screamed inside her head. THEY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THEY ARE DOING!

“Pushing the right needle a little bit left then,” Soun said, uncertainly. Ranma felt a little push on the needle on her back but nothing at all from the curse—whether Soun’s action had done anything at all was unclear.

“Let’s try the warm water; see if he’ll transform with that now. Shouldn’t hurt too much, I’d expect.”

Her father’s weight came off her back as he stood to fetch a bucket. Ranma used the chance to try to wriggle free; to flex her back muscles to eject the needles, but it was no use.

“Be careful, Ranma!” Soun said. “This procedure is dangerous enough as it is. Don’t take any risks you don’t have to take.”

Even with the ice-cave technique, Ranma’s outrage leapt exponentially. As if she was the one putting her very existence in danger, the one who was gambling with the chance of locking her in a loop of perpetual form change until she died. She redoubled her efforts to break free, but it was no use. Her body was exhausted from the day’s fights and arguments, and the bindings were too tight.

Genma came near with the warm water. Thankfully, he did not pour it over her head, but only on her left leg, mostly hitting the skin behind her knee and across her calf. She felt searing pain across the whole area, as if her leg was on fire. But she used her disassociation technique to swiftly send that part of her body into an ice-mountain prison, locked behind walls of smooth cold granite. Far away, so far away that she could not—would not—feel it. She would not scream for these barbarians.

“Well, no effect, I suppose,” Genma said, stating the obvious.

Just STOP. STOP! Ranma screamed into the gag but all that came out were muffled noises. She felt tears streaming down her face, but she could not wipe them away. She felt utterly helpless.

“Maybe you did the wrong one,” Genma continued, “Give the other one a tweak.”

“Which way?” Soun asked.

“I don’t know! You’re the one that read the library book on acupuncture,” Genma admonished.

Ranma felt another experimental push, this time on the other needle.

Genma slopped a little more warm water on her leg, which had no effect other than to make the flames Ranma was trying so hard not to feel all the more insistent.

“Well, at least the Cat’s Tongue pressure point isn’t as big a deal as the boy made out,” Genma observed. “I suppose we should just try some hot water.”

He reached for the other bucket, and slopped some over her other leg. She had a bit of warning this time; time to prepare. Her mind now lived on a frozen asteroid in a far-off galaxy, its temperature close to the absolute zero of space itself. Our galaxy, the Milky Way, was just a far-off prick of light in the heavens that surrounded her, almost invisible, and in an insignificant part of that insignificant galaxy there was a tiny insignificant planet where in some tiny moment in all of time, one body was being tested. Either the strong dissociation or the physiological responses that she was experiencing meant that the whole world faded out as the hot water touched her skin. All sense of the dojo vanished and she was alone on her asteroid, her body left behind.

Unheard by Ranma, Genma complained, “Now normal hot water doesn’t work!” in a tone of exasperation.

* * *

On the train coming into Ikebukuro, Kasumi was glad to be heading home. It felt like the day had had too many train rides, too much going to and fro, and too much worry. Dr. Tofu sat next to her, of course, and they talked a bit about trivial things. She’d noticed that he wasn’t speaking quite as slowly as he had been yesterday (and that he had managed to talk at normal speed and with no word-salad at all when she’d left him with other people; apparently Akane was right). They would definitely need to try something a little less… professional next time. But she did hope that there would be a next time.

* * *

Akane was in her room, finally tired of listening to music. She hit the stop button and pulled off her headphones. Her watch told her it was 8:42 p.m., and Ranma really should be home by now. Something felt wrong. It wasn’t just the creaks the house was making that felt off somehow, it was… something… No. It was a lack of something. No TV. There was a game show that began at 8:30 that her father liked and would rarely miss, but she couldn’t make out any sounds from the TV. Had some enemy of Genma or her father attacked? Genma had certainly made plenty of enemies, after all.

She crept out of her bedroom and down the stairs. Genma was in the kitchen. He had just boiled the kettle and was walking back towards the dojo with it. Careful not to be heard and using all the stealth techniques she knew, she followed. She heard her father call out in a hoarse whisper.

“What are you doing, Saotome!? Kasumi will be back soon!”

The men were up to no good, but what were they doing? She continued to follow, letting Genma get well into the room before she peered in through the doorway.

It took Akane a moment to process what she was seeing. Ranma was tied to a board, face down, gagged, head tilted to the side, eyes closed. Both of her legs had large patches of bright red skin on them, presumably from burns. Akane’s father was seated next to Ranma, looking at a sheet of paper, presumably the instructions for whatever they were doing. Ranma’s dress had been pulled down slightly to better expose her back, and on it there were six acupuncture needles atop a diagram drawn in thick blue ink. She stifled a gasp. She knew what the piece of paper was now; the description of the Leopard’s Fate Adjustment Technique they’d gotten from Nabiki. Genma was advancing towards Ranma with the kettle, clearly about to compound his previous sins with a worse one.

* * *

Atop her asteroid in the cold, dark vacuum of space, Ranma looked at the stars. The Milky Way was so insignificant that she couldn’t even remember which of the tiny points of light it was. Suddenly, she was unwinding it all. At impossible speed, she crossed those galactic distances in no time at all and was suddenly back in the room because someone was screaming. It was Akane! Despite the newly felt agony that defied description, her heart leapt in hope.

“STOP!” Akane had yelled, and Ranma saw her rushing forward…

But her father reached her first and was tilting the kettle; its boiling water began to stream downward towards her legs…

Her gaze darted back to Akane, who had gained speed on her run across the room, a determined look on her face. Ranma watched in what felt like slow motion as Akane dropped, using her momentum to sweep Genma’s legs out from under him, sending him sprawling to the floor and stopping the stream of water on Ranma’s skin. Still sliding across the floor, Akane was reaching for a bucket of cold water…

Ranma felt it now. She’d wondered what the feel of the side of the curse associated with hot water would be like. Now she knew. The rejection. The exclusion. The banishment. The feeling was weak, but it was building rapidly, and in mere moments, it crashed over her with added complexity. The ripping away. The forced separation. The loss. But it was wrong. It was so wrong. No transformation had ever been like this; no transformation was this slow. It usually happened in a blink of the eye, but she felt this, washing down from the top of her head, changing her. There was no word for it, to feel yourself becoming something else, slowly.

But there was more. Pain receptors for heat are slow, so the torture inflicted by the Cat’s Tongue point caused by the boiling water had barely begun, but that, too, was now building rapidly. As the pain overwhelmed her, her body went into shock, and she lost consciousness again.

* * *

Only two seconds had passed since Akane had abruptly interrupted Genma’s violation of his own child’s autonomy and identity, and Akane was still scooting across the floor, recovering. She managed to stop, grabbed a bucket of cold water, and threw it over Ranma’s legs. Some of it also hit Genma and turned him into his panda form.

“Don’t interfere, Akane!” her father said.

A mallet was in Akane’s hand, and then it was striking her father’s face. Hard. He was sent flying across the room. Akane stood over Ranma protectively, daring the two men to try anything.

A disturbing sound yanked her attention back to Ranma. Oh, no! Ranma had made a sort of rasping sound and then fallen silent. She was horrified to see that the transformation had stopped partway through. From her head down to a little way down her back, she looked like the Ranma-kun of old. Then there was a strange shimmering area circling her body, about an inch wide. From there down to her feet, she was still herself. Her chest wasn’t moving—she had stopped breathing.

Akane gagged as she realized that her rash action had compounded her father’s sins and killed the one she loved. But perhaps there was still some hope. The cold water hadn’t helped—even if it had, there was no more. Maybe the only path forward was through, to let the transformation complete. She grabbed the bucket of hot water and dumped it on Ranma’s legs. She saw the shimmering portion begin to move, and as it did so, she realized that transforming while tied down so tightly might itself be a death sentence. She grabbed a kaiken from a nearby display stand, and, as the seam of the transformation slowly moved down Ranma’s body, she worked frantically to cut the bindings before it reached them. She severed the silken ropes around Ranma’s ankles just seconds before the transformation finished.

Ranma’s body was fully male again, bursting out of the pretty summer dress she’d been wearing. But she was still silent. Still not breathing. Akane grabbed her and rolled her onto her back, then checked her neck for a pulse. Nothing. Akane didn’t really know CPR, but she’d seen it done on TV, and there was nothing else she could think of to try. She began chest compressions, counting out loud. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten….”

Did you do mouth-to-mouth next? Maybe? She did the best she could and then resumed the chest compressions. “Come on, Ranma-chan!” she pleaded. “Live! Come back to me! Please! I love you!”

She was starting to lose hope. She didn’t know what she was doing. She was just a stupid girl who didn’t know anything and— Wait! Ranma spluttered and coughed. She’s alive! Akane paused, and yes, Ranma was breathing and had a pulse. It seemed to be quite fast, but it was there. She wasn’t conscious, but she was alive. She’s alive!

Akane picked up the knife she’d used to cut Ranma’s bonds. She turned to her father and the panda, who had both stood by impotently as she worked. “GET OUT!” she exclaimed, “Leave now alive, or I swear they’ll carry your bodies out dead, or mine!”

As Soun reached the doorway, nursing a red semicircular bruise across his face, Akane called after him, “No—wait! Bring a bucket of cold water!”

She stroked Ranma’s unconscious form as she waited for her father to return, sobbing. “What have they done to you? What have they done?”

When her father returned with the cold water, she took it and handed him Nabiki’s folder. “Read it,” she commanded. “Read it all and understand the extent of your foolishness!”

Akane sloshed some of the cold water over Ranma, hoping that it might reverse the transformation, but nothing happened. She used it to cool Ranma’s burned legs instead.

As she worked, she saw Ranma’s backpack on the floor; she knew it should have a towel from the beach trip inside that could work as a cool compress. She opened the backpack. On the top was a bag from the department store. As she pushed it aside, its contents tumbled out. Two swimsuits. In the same patterns as the yukatas they’d worn the night before, and one was in her size. She couldn’t think about that now. She crammed it down.

She pulled out the towel next, and something else came out with it. It was the Phoenix Pill locket. What? How? Ranma had lost, hadn’t she? Apparently, she hadn’t. She’d won. She’d had it on the train as Akane turned her seething anger about everything on Ranma. Ranma could have held the locket up and said, “See, but I got this!” at any time, but she hadn’t. Akane crammed that down too. She had to look after Ranma; to soothe her burned skin as best she could.

She should probably call for an ambulance or something, but she couldn’t leave Ranma’s side.

* * *

Kasumi wished Dr. Tofu a good evening a few yards before the house—not letting him walk her all the way to the door made the evening feel a little like less like a date in her mind—and walked up the path to the house alone, smiling to herself as she recalled a moment when she’d leapt in to clarify to a potential donor what Dr. Tofu had actually meant by “Donate yourself!”.

She was surprised to find Father and Genma standing outside—just for a second she wondered if she’d been out too late and they were waiting to chastise her—but there was something off about their body language. Was that… embarrassment? Guilt? She immediately went on high alert. The bruise on her father’s face made it obvious that something very bad had happened. She ran past them into the house and headed for the dojo without even taking her shoes off.

She surveyed the scene: Akane in tears tending to Ranma; Ranma’s—male—body and its burns; the cut ribbons, scattered pails, and puddled water. Akane blurted out disconnected details, but she’d seen enough already.

Nabiki came in behind her, saying something about seeing Kasumi and Dr. Tofu on the train but that she’d stopped at a 7–Eleven on the way to give them some space. She stopped dead, mouth open midword, when she’d gotten far enough into the room to see what Kasumi already had.

Kasumi turned to Nabiki and told her to run after Dr. Tofu and have him come back immediately. She had to repeat it twice before Nabiki broke and ran.

Kasumi then went back outside herself. What she felt was a cold fury. Both men started speaking as soon they saw her: her father claiming that it had all been Ranma’s father’s idea, and Ranma’s father gabbling something about Akane “interfering” in some way. She held up a hand to silence them.

“You will leave,” she said, her tone icier than any windswept mountain peak. “You may visit tomorrow, but you will not stay. I will decide when and if you return. Leave and think about what you have done. If that is not acceptable, I will call the police, and they can arrest you instead for the crimes you have committed. I wish I were not so weak that I let you just walk away, but my weakness is your fortune. Gather your things and leave. You have five minutes.”

* * *

It was Akane’s sobbing she heard first. Then she felt pain in her chest, and then the burns in her legs joined the throng. She was alive; but everything was wrong. Familiar, but wrong. She called out to Akane, and as she did so, she heard her voice, and she knew why it was wrong. She was him now. That’s why her body felt too big. That’s why she couldn’t feel the things that should be there. That’s why she could feel the things that shouldn’t. But Akane was shaking uncontrollably. And Akane had saved her, stopped the idiots before they killed her with their bumbling stupidity and ignorance and their desire to turn the clock back.

Akane was there by her side. “Ranma-chan, Ranma-chan, Ranma-chan!” she repeated. “I don’t… I couldn’t… I… I…”

Ranma tried to comfort her. “It’s okay, Akane. It’s okay. You saved me. Thank you.” That voice, it was so wrong. It was like a tape that had been slowed down.

“You had the Phoenix Pill all along!” Akane said plaintively.

“Surprise,” Ranma said weakly. “Can I take it? I think it might help with the burns and stuff.”

Akane fetched a glass of water, and Ranma took the pill.

Dr. Tofu arrived, and there was a big production as he checked Ranma out. He concluded that, “His chest is bruised, but no ribs are broken, and his burns seem to be minor and will probably heal in a few days.”

His. Ranma sighed. Soon enough, Dr. Tofu was on his way; stopping to speak to Kasumi about something Ranma couldn’t hear.

“Can I take a cold bath?” Ranma asked Akane.

“Of course,” she said. Someone went off to fill the bath, and then Akane helped Ranma to the bathroom, trying to take some of the weight off his scalded legs, and then leaving him in the bath, alone, sitting in the cold water.

Nothing. The feel of the curse was gone. She’d feared this outcome, but now at least she knew. She’d always felt that the time she had was special but temporary. She’d been right. Her only real mistake had been the last few days, when she’d started to believe it might last.

She dried herself off, which served as another reminder of just how different her body was now, and put on a bathrobe. She wanted to just go straight to bed, but Kasumi, Nabiki, and Akane were all waiting for her in the living room.

She walked in awkwardly, feeling very self-conscious; like a puppeteer who had been given a puppet that was the wrong size. She couldn’t bring herself to look directly at anyone’s face; afraid of what she might see there; so she kept her eyes locked on the floor.

From her peripheral vision, she could tell they were all trying to be supportive; trying to mask their own loss and anger with a fragile kindness and unsteady smiles. She could tell they were nervous, too; afraid to say the wrong thing; ask the wrong question. But she wasn’t exactly in a mood to talk either.

“Uh, thanks all of you for… you know… being here,” Ranma said awkwardly, continuing to avoid direct eye contact with anyone. “I appreciate it. And, uh, don’t worry or anything. I’ll, uh, probably get used to this again. Like riding a bike, right? Maybe, like, you know, into a volcano or something. But, uh… I’ll be okay.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead she turned and bounded up the stairs to get away from everyone; to stop them from looking at her. (At least her legs were strong, that had to be a plus, right?)

Her room was comforting and familiar, and yet she knew it would all have to change. Probably tomorrow; she couldn’t face doing it tonight. On her bed was clean underwear. Boxer shorts. And a pair of pajamas. She tried to remember, did you wear boxer shorts with pajamas? Maybe not. She looked under her pillow and found the cat-adorned T-shirt style sleepwear she’d worn last night (which also happened to be what she’d worn on the second night of her time as a girl). She debated, pajamas or T-shirt? In the end, she went with the tee and a pair of boxer shorts. It felt more like her. Because she was bigger than she ought to be, the T-shirt was a bit binding across the shoulders, but it wasn’t too bad. Maybe she’d try the pajamas tomorrow.

She climbed into bed, closed her eyes, and begged sleep to come. It did not come fast enough, so she retreated to the asteroid until it did.