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Chapter Text

Chapter One

Ranma sputtered as he broke the surface of the water. The spring his father had kicked him into was surprisingly deep, and he’d been underwater for nearly a minute. He gasped air into his lungs desperately, for his father had knocked the wind out of him before he’d taken the plunge and his lungs were on fire. 

“That was a cheap shot, old man!” Ranma screamed at the panda bear that his father had, somehow, turned into. The voice that escaped his lips was not his own, and he slapped his hands over his mouth in fear. 

It had been a girl’s voice.

“Yep, that’s the girl.” Ranma looked at their guide in disbelief, still treading water. What girl? What is this guy talking about? But if his father had fallen into one of the ponds and turned into a panda…

Ranma looked down and found himself looking at his own bosom. He shrieked in disbelief.

“I’m a fucking girl?” Panic swelled in his chest and he let out a panicked, bloodcurdling scream. There was no way this was happening. He was Ranma Saotome! He was a boy! His shrieks turned to flailing and he slipped beneath the surface of the water, flailing wildly.

He was gonna drown in this stupid, cursed pond, and die in the body of a girl.

The panic attack did not subside quickly, and Ranma treaded water for nearly fifteen minutes, his training with his father completely forgotten. Eventually, mercifully, their guide helped Ranma to dry land with a length of bamboo, and he let himself be dragged out of the pond. His throat burned from screaming and treading water. He’d swallowed a lot of water in panic, and he felt sick.

The large panda bear that had replaced his father stomped up to him awkwardly and flopped to the ground. It looked at him for a long time, and Ranma, shaking from the experience, could not discern just what his dad was thinking.

He looked away and down at his hands. They were so tiny now.

“Is this permanent?” He asked.

“It depends on what you mean by permanent,” their guide said. He walked off and busied himself making a campfire at the edge of the training ground. 

Some answer that had been, Ranma thought sullenly. He pulled his knees to his chest, and found that his breasts made it a little more cumbersome than he was used to. He shuddered. He was a girl. He had boobs. 

Ranma buried his face in his knees and refused to look up when his father tapped him on the shoulder.

Men did not cry. Men did not show weakness. It was a lesson his father had beaten into him countless times over the fourteen years they had been training. He’d endured more tortures, more beatings, more physical agony than he could ever put to words. But this? This was something else entirely.

He felt tears prick his eyes, unbidden, and he fought to keep them at bay.

Men. Did. Not. Cry.

But… he wasn’t a man now, was he?

“The curses of the springs are, as far as any who are living today are aware, irreversible,” their guide said. “But, the effects can be mitigated. Mr. Saotome, if you would please pour this warm water over your head.”

Ranma sniffled and looked up to see his father pour a pot of steaming water onto his head. A weird rippling passed over the panda, and then his dad was sitting there again. If he’d blinked he would have missed it. It had happened in less than a second.

“Change me back!” Ranma said, desperately, rocketing to his feet.

The guide nodded and set about heating up more water.

Genma, who was looking at his hands contemplatively, said, “Well that was an experience. Still, no harm done, right boy?”

“I guess not,” Ranma said eagerly. He was almost vibrating with his desire to change back into a boy. He was so short like this. His dad towered over him, and Ranma felt weird about it because he’d been taller before he’d been knocked into the water.

The guide returned to Ranma with the pot of almost too hot water, and Ranma dumped it over his head without hesitation.

“Ahh, that’s better!” He exclaimed. But his voice was still too high pitched. He blinked water from his eyes and looked up at his dad, who was still several inches taller than him. With a pit forming in his stomach, he looked down at himself.

He was still a girl.

“What the fuck? I thought you said I would change back, asshole!” Ranma wheeled on their guide, eyes burning with fury.

“Nobody has ever, in all the time I have guided travelers here, stayed in a cursed spring for as long as you did, Ranma.” The guide’s voice was pleading as he held his hands up and backed away. “Every other person who has fallen in, they always change back when doused with warm water.”

Ranma’s eyes went hollow.

He was stuck like this?

Forever?

As quickly as it had come, the fight left him, and he fell to his knees, staring at nothing.

“Oh get up, boy,” Genma said dismissively. “We’ve run into an obstacle and you’ve given up immediately. How pathetically feminine of you.”

Ranma winced. His father had always used emasculating language when Ranma did not live up to his father’s standards; but today, now, it hurt worse than ever. 

“Good thing I’m a girl right now, then, huh?” Was all Ranma managed to say. His voice was quiet. He was ashamed, humiliated, and he wanted to be anywhere else.

“I did not raise a girl! I raised a warrior. A man. Now stop acting like a pansy and get up. We’ll drown you in hot water if we have to.” Genma’s bravado and machismo did nothing to lift Ranma’s spirit.

Ranma winced as the fourth pot of nearly boiling water was poured over his head. It hurt. His skin was red and angry, and he could feel it blistering his scalp, face, and shoulders as it cascaded down him. 

He did not cry out in pain. He did not cry. He was a man. Men did not cry.

But for all that he forced himself to sit there and endure the torture, he was still in the body of a girl.

“Okay…” Ranma said weakly. “No more. Not tonight. I’m gonna pass out.” He tried, in vain, to crawl away from the fire, to get away from his dad and the never ending deluge of hot water, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. He was in so much pain.

Genma scoffed. “Giving up already, boy? No son of mine is going to sleep soundly while looking like a little girl.” He filled the pot with water again and set it to boil over the campfire.

Ranma winced at the insult. 

He’s just trying to help, Ranma told himself.

“Dad, seriously. It’s gonna kill me if you dump anymore of that boiling water on my head tonight. And besides, it clearly isn’t working.” Ranma’s skin felt like it was on fire, and even moving enough to talk was excruciating.

Genma didn’t listen, or didn’t care, or both, because Ranma found another wave of boiling water being thrown at him a few minutes later. He shrieked in agony, and the world went black.

When he came to, he was in a hospital bed. His entire body was on fire, and he couldn’t move. 

Everything was agony. 

Ranma tried to move, but found that attempting to do so made everything hurt worse, and that his entire body was wrapped in thick bandages. He’d not been this banged up in ages, and even then, it hadn’t been his father torturing him with boiling water that had sent him to the hospital.

He couldn’t tell if he was still a girl, or if that had all been some horrific nightmare.

He was left alone with his thoughts for only a few minutes, because someone, bless them, noticed he was awake.

A tall man with a stethoscope draped around his neck came up to his bedside and smiled down at him. He said something in Chinese that Ranma didn’t understand. Neither he nor his father had bothered to learn the language. 

“Learning the local language is a waste of training time, Ranma. We will make our way through martial prowess alone!” Genma had said.

Ranma wanted to scoff. Stupid old man. Look what it had gotten them into.

The tall man repeated himself, or at least Ranma thought he did. The sounds were similar enough to have been the same question, or statement, or whatever.

“I don’t…” He tried to say, but moving his lips made his whole body seize up in agony.

The man, doctor, presumably, nodded and tried changing tactics. “Japanese?” He asked tentatively. “Don't move, blink if you understand.”

Ranma blinked.

“Not from here. Okay.” The doctor pulled the stethoscope over his head and put the listening end into his ears. The other, he pressed lightly against Ranma’s chest. “Try to take a deep breath for me.”

Ranma did, but found he couldn’t get much air in his lungs before he started coughing, which caused his whole body to flair up in agony. 

“There’s some fluid in your lungs we’ll need to get out, but you should recover fully. Not even the burns will be permanent if we’re lucky.” The doctor returned the stethoscope to his neck. “You’re being a very brave girl.” He gave her a cheery smile. “Try to get some more rest, and I’ll check on you later.

Ranma wanted to scream. 

He was still a fucking girl?

He was going to kill his shit-for-brains father over this.

The last thought he had before oblivion took him again, was that he really, really wanted to be anywhere else.

When Ranma next awoke, the burning pain was more of a dull ache and the morning sun was spilling in through the window. He tried to move, but everything still hurt. He hissed in pain.

“Oh good, you're up.” 

Ranma’s eyes snapped to the chair in the corner of the room, where his father was writing something on a piece of paper. 

“Ungh,” Ranma managed to say. What he’d meant to say was: I fucking hate you. Just so you know. 

“We’re going back to Japan. Today. Get up.” Genma slapped the paper down on Ranma’s bedside table and stood. “What are you waiting for, boy? We need to get moving.”

Ranma glared at his father. Did the old man not see the state he was in? He couldn’t even sit up, let alone walk— or swim back to Japan. Just what the hell did his dad think he was up to. “No,” Ranma said quietly.

Genma returned the glare. “No?” He grabbed Ranma by the front of his hospital gown and pulled him into a sitting position. “No? Boy, when I tell you we’re leaving, we’re leaving.”

Ranma cried out in pain as his world exploded once more into agony, he tried to claw at his father’s grip on his gown, but even that was too much. But by some miracle, Genma’s attack and Ranma’s subsequent cry of pain, had alerted the hospital staff, and several nurses came into the room, shouting angrily in Chinese.

What happened next was a flurry of chaos. Genma was forcibly removed from the room, Ranma was given painkillers and water, and then he was being asked a series of yes or no questions by a kind Chinese woman in a police uniform.

“Is that your father?”

Blink once for yes.

“Are you on vacation with him here in China?”

Blink twice for no.

“Did he do this to you?”

Blink once for yes.

“Has he hurt you before?”

Blink once for yes.

“Have you been sexually abused?”

Blink twice for no.

Sexual abuse? Why would— oh, right. He was a girl in the police officer’s eyes. He looked away from the woman, shame and embarrassment bubbling in his chest. Before the police officer could ask any more questions, a nurse entered the room and ended the interrogation.

“I think you should rest now, sweetheart. Those painkillers will knock you out in a few minutes. I’m sure you could use the rest.” The nurse gently squeezed Ranma’s hand. “That man can’t hurt you anymore, okay?”

Blink once for yes.

Ranma’s eyes fluttered shut and he fell asleep once more.

Three days later, the sedatives and painkillers had mostly run their course, and Ranma was sitting awkwardly in his bed. The bandages were supposedly coming off today, and Ranma was under strict orders not to itch at his skin at all for at least a week.

His father, may he rot in peace, had been arrested by the local police while Ranma had been unconscious, and for the first time in his life, Ranma hadn’t been belittled throughout his days. Sure, he’d been bedridden and in agony, but it was strangely pleasant.

It was one of those awkward times when Ranma was left alone to his own devices, and staring out the window had grown boring. The trees were beautiful, that was true, but he’d seen a lot of them over the past few days, and from his position in the bed, he couldn’t see much else through the window. 

Casting his gaze around the room, Ranma looked for anything to occupy his time.

There wasn’t anything in the room except a postcard on the bedside table. When had that gotten there? He picked it up, and examined the art of the panda bear on the back for a minute before turning it over.

No time for pleasantries, I’m bringing Ranma back. We’re coming from China.

Lots of Love,

Genma

Ranma blinked at the note in surprise. Lots of love? Not something he’d expect his father to have written down. Ever. But there was an address: The Tendo Dojo, Nerima Ward, Tokyo. It was as good a place as any to go, he supposed. Not that he had any way to get there. But it was something. He fiddled idly with the postcard until a nurse came in with a tray of food.

“Time for lunch, sweetie. Try to eat up so you can get your strength back.” She put the tray down on Ranma’s bedside table and gave Ranma a gentle squeeze on the hand. “Dr. Lee will be coming in to take off your bandages later this afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Ranma muttered awkwardly in Chinese. At least he was pretty sure he said thank you. The nurse beamed at him. When she departed, Ranma turned to his lunch and ate what he could. Hospital food wasn’t exactly award winning fare, but it was better than starving.

Eating was slow going, as it still hurt to chew, but Ranma dutifully got through as much as he could before the discomfort overtook the hunger as his primary motivator. He pushed the rest of the tray away from himself and leaned back on the pillows of his hospital bed with a defeated sigh.

How the hell was he going to fix this?

The doctor arrived sometime before the end of the day with the nurse who spoke Japanese in tow. 

When his bandages did come off, a hand-mirror was left on his bedside, and he stubbornly refused to look at his own reflection. He was going to hate what he saw. For the duration of his stay, Ranma never once picked up the mirror. He was ashamed, embarrassed, afraid. He couldn’t do it.

“Do you have family that can come and pick you up?” The police officer asked him the following morning.

Ranma shook his head. “No, but I have some family friends in Tokyo that will look after me.” He held the postcard up and waved it idly. “I just don’t have any way to get there.” 

He had no idea if it was true. He had no idea who those people were, or what Genma wanted to accomplish by bringing him there. What he did know was that going back to Japan was a lot more appealing than staying in a Chinese hospital forever.

“And you’re sure they’ll be able to take you in and get you settled now that your father is out of the picture?” The police officer seemed worried, but Ranma thought that was stupid. He was more than capable of taking care of himself.

“They sure will!” he lied with a smile.

“Then we will arrange your trip back home.”

Two hours later, Ranma stepped out of the hospital with his clothes and now comically oversized backpack, the postcard with the Nerima address clutched firmly in his small hand. They’d given him a bus ticket that would take him to a port, and a ferry ticket that would take him back to Japan. They’d also been kind enough to stuff a few extra meals into his pack for the trip. Not that it would take a painfully long time, but it was still nice to be fed without having to fight anyone.

“Bus doesn’t leave for a while yet,” Ranma said to himself. He’d have to walk to the bus station, which was… in a direction.

He should have asked for directions.

A man does not ask for help, he reminded himself.

He set off in search of the bus station.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Traveling as a girl was weird. Or maybe creepy. Ranma didn’t really have a reference point for it, considering he wasn’t one. Older men were constantly giving him these strange looks that he didn't really understand. He’d had to all but break someone’s wrist when they’d tried to touch him, and he couldn’t fathom why anyone would even try. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before.

By the time he’d made it to the bus station, he was seething. What in the world was wrong with China? Ranma threw himself onto a bench and waited, foot tapping anxiously. The sooner he was out of this cursed country, the better. While he waited he looked around and tried to read a few of the Chinese letters he recognized. It was slow work, but what else was he gonna do?

This station wasn’t the typical single bus stop, this was a station where buses would take people on long trips to many destinations across the country. He recognized ‘bathroom’ and that excited him. Something his father hadn’t taught him. Something he’d learned all by himself. He spied a kiosk at the end of the row of seats he was on, and saw ‘map.'”

“Maps, huh?” Ranma whispered under his breath. Maybe there was something there that would show him the way back to Jusenkyo. He had no idea how to get there from… well, anywhere. He made his way to the to the kiosk and picked up the closest map to him. It was a map of a small city, presumably the one he was in right now. Not helpful. He put it back and tried another. And another.

It was when he’d unfolded the fourth map he hung his head in defeat and realized that even if a map did have the information he wanted, he wouldn’t be able to find it because he didn’t read or speak Chinese.

With a sigh, Ranma shoved the map back into its slot and stomped back towards his seat. His bag was gone.

“Are you fucking kidding!?” Ranma screeched. Several passersby stared, and someone covered their laugh with a hand. He cast his gaze around, looking for the thief, but found nothing. In every direction he saw people getting ready to go on whatever trips they had planned, but nobody was hurrying away with his travel bag.

Everything I own is in that bag. Ranma’s panicked thoughts coaxed him to climb onto the benches and look desperately for some answer as to where his things were. Nothing. He shimmied up a light pole that was fifteen feet away. Nothing.

His bag was gone.

He slid down and returned to his seat. All he had left were his tickets and the stupid postcard that had been in his pockets. 

Rage boiled up in his stomach and he bit back a bitter scream of fury. Who the fuck steals someone’s bag?

When the bus did come, Ranma presented his ticket, took his seat, and looked forlornly out the window. His stomach rumbled. He didn’t have any food with him anymore. 

Ranma folded in on himself in his seat, pulling his legs up to his chest and hiding his face from the world.

Men. Did. Not. Cry.

-

Two days. He’d been on the bus for nearly two full days. There had been stops, bathroom breaks, and even an eight hour overnight break so the bus driver could sleep. Ranma was restless. With each hour the bus took him east, he knew he was getting farther away from answers to his predicament. There had to be a way to fix his situation. 

But Ranma was broke, and he had nothing to his name, and he was hungry. As much as he wanted to go back, it was smarter to go back to Japan, get his situation sorted out, and come back with traveling money and new camping equipment. And probably a Chinese phrasebook, just to be sure he could get around.

His stomach rumbled as the bus driver announced something to the passengers over the intercom. They were entering the city where Ranma would take a ferry to Osaka.

Shanghai was an absolutely massive city. It was packed with people going this way and that, and Ranma watched them out the window of the bus cautiously. How was he supposed to get around in all that? He didn’t know where the bus was going to drop them all off, he only hoped it was at least close to their destination. 

There were so many people. Ranma and his father had spent most of the past decade traveling to learn martial arts, but his experience was mostly of small villages and remote, well hidden training grounds. This was… this was insane.

The thought of navigating such a large urban center made him nervous. And that nervousness brought him back to that constant mantra. Men do not show weakness. Men are not afraid. Men do not cry.

It was another hour before the bus pulled to a stop at a bus station that put the previous one to shame. Ranma looked out the window with trepidation before disembarking and looking around. He was hungry, he was thirsty, he felt gross from sitting on that bus for so long, and he had no idea where the fuck he was supposed to go.

Men don’t ask for help.

Ranma walked around the bus station, eyes scanning his surroundings for a map, or anything that would say ‘you are here’ and let him figure out which direction to walk in. He was bumped, jostled, and knocked around in the world's most massive crowd, but he fought through the chaos until he found what he was looking for. A map of the station that told him where he was.

He scanned it, wishing he knew more Chinese.

Looks like I need to head about two miles southwest to get to the pier. At least he hoped. He had about four hours to kill. It should be plenty of time.

He hurried out of the station and onto the busy Shanghai streets. When was the last time he’d been in a proper city? It must have been five years at least. The sights, the smells, the sounds… they were all overwhelming.

It was slow going, but he made it through the crowds with little incident other than the constant pushing and bumping into people, all of whom gave him odd looks. 

About half a mile from the pier, he passed by a street of vendors selling food. Fried food. Produce. Snacks, crackers, cakes, cookies. It smelled amazing. His stomach grumbled painfully. He hadn’t eaten since the hospital.

He walked down the busy street, eying the steamed buns and fresh fruits. They all looked so good. Ripe apples, juicy oranges, and… were those pork buns? Ranma licked his lips.

His hand twitched towards the food stall. The man selling the buns asked him something in Chinese.

“I’m sorry,” Ranma said. “I don’t… speak Chinese.”

The man said something else. Ranma shook his head. The man waved him off.

Ranma sighed and left the stall with the pork buns behind, and made his way to the pier, his stomach rumbling. 

When he arrived at the pier, it took him most of his remaining time to figure out which ferry was the one to Osaka. 

-

When Ranma disembarked in Osaka, he was delighted to be able to read the street signs again. He dashed off the boat, and started heading east, towards Tokyo. He hoped these people at the Tendo dojo, whoever they were, would be able to help him get settled enough to make another trip to China. Provided they offered, of course. A man did not ask for help. 

He walked for hours, and the afternoon gave way to night. When the aching of his feet called him to stop for the night, he all but fell onto a bench in Nara and sighed. He was still days away from Tokyo at this rate, and he still hadn’t eaten anything. Water was easy enough to come by, but food? He’d have to figure something out.

But that was a problem for the next day. For now, he had to figure out how to make crashing on this stupid bench comfortable enough to doze off for a while.

Ranma was shaken awake. He grabbed the wrist of whoever had touched him and sat up quick as a whip.

The woman who’d tried to wake him made a strangled, agonized sound and tried to pull her arm free. Realizing he was in no danger, Ranma let go of her. “Sorry.”

“Shit, kid. I was just making sure you were all right,” the woman rubbed at her wrist and flexed her fingers.

“Just trying to get to Tokyo,” Ranma said. “But I’m fine.”

“Sure you are. You look like you haven’t seen a proper meal in a week, and your hair is all greasy.” She sat down on the bench next to him. “You run away from home?”

Ranma scoffed. As if he would run away from anything. “No.”

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to tell me. But a girl like you should not be out alone this late. You might get seriously hurt, or worse.” She gave Ranma a look that he did not understand. “What’s in Tokyo, kiddo?”

Ranma fished the now worn and folded postcard from his pocket. “Family friends.”

The woman read the message on the postcard. “You’re Ranma, huh? That’s a boy’s name.”

“I am a…” Ranma trailed off before he could say ‘boy.’ “I mean… yeah. That’s what my dad named me.” He looked at his feet, not wanting to meet her gaze. So many people had treated him like he was weak, or in need of help, or like he was just some helpless little kid ever since he’d woken up. He hated it.

“Nice to meet you, Ranma. My name is Mitsuki.” The woman offered her hand to him.

Ranma shook it, blinking curiously.

“These family friends of yours, they gonna look after you?”

Ranma nodded. “Yeah.”

“You don’t have a bus ticket or a way to take a train there, I take it,” Mitsuki said. Ranma nodded. “Shit, girl. I don’t know your story, and I won’t pry, but I can’t leave you out here like this.”

“Why do you care?” Ranma asked. “It’s not like I asked you for help.”

Mitsuki gave him a sad smile. “I work with at-risk teenagers here in Nara. You’d be surprised how many kids run away from home, or don’t have one, or they do but their parents aren’t good people. It’s my job to make sure nothing bad happens to them.”

“I ain’t a charity case, lady,” Ranma said as he stood up. “I should keep moving, I guess. Tokyo’s not gonna walk to me.”

Mitsuki caught his wrist, and his fight or flight response kicked into overdrive. He pulled free and spun around, assuming a battle stance.

“Easy there, crouching tiger,” Mitsuki said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a wad of cash. “Here. For food and a train ticket to Tokyo. You promise me you’ll go to your family friends and get settled in, okay?”

Ranma stared at the money, but did not take it. 

Handouts.

Weakness.

“I told you I ain’t a charity case.”

Mitsuki gave him that sad smile again. “I know you’re not, sweetie.”

She put the money on the bench. “The sun will be up in about an hour. I’d stick around, but I do have a kid who’s getting put with a new foster family today that I need to be there for.” She rose from the bench, money left behind. “I hope you find what you’re looking for out there, kiddo.”

Ranma watched her go, and then looked down at the money on the bench. He snatched it up and flipped through the folded notes. It was more than enough to feed him and get him to the city. And there was a small business card folded into the stack of yen that had Mitsuki’s name and phone number on it.

He pocketed everything, and set off in search of a grocery store or a cafe.

-

“Okay Ranma, you can do this, just like we practiced.”

Ranma stood before the Tendo Dojo, looking like little more than a stray cat. He was disheveled, he hadn’t washed, and his skin was peeling something fierce from the healing burns. Earlier that morning, he’d eaten a huge breakfast at a cafe near the train station, and bought himself a ticket to Nerima. 

Both the waitress at the cafe and the man who’d sold him the bus ticket had commented on his name being more suited for a boy, and he’d spent the entire train ride debating on how to explain his situation to whoever was at the dojo.

It wasn’t like he could change back. At least not right now. And who would believe such an insane story without proof anyhow? Sorry, I was born a boy, but I was cursed to become a girl, and I need money and a place to sleep until I learn how to speak Chinese. Can I stay with you?

It would never work.

Ranma had decided to introduce himself as Genma Saotome’s daughter, Reiko.

That was his story, and he’d stick with it.

He was a girl, who’d been raised as a boy because Genma had really wanted a son. He hoped it would explain why he knew fuckall about being a girl. Because, apart from the way his voice sounded now, he didn’t know shit. 

He hoped that his father’s friend would at least let him eat something. He had no idea how he was supposed to figure that one out on his own. Could a homeless kid even get a job?

Ranma opened the gate to the dojo and made his way to the front door. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and then knocked. A true martial artist didn’t back down from any challenge.

After a moment, a beautiful woman opened the door. She was probably just a few years older than he was. “Can I help you, miss?”

“Uh, yeah, hi. I-I'm here to talk to the master of the Tendo Dojo,” Ranma stuttered out. Why was he so nervous?

“Well of course you are. My name is Kasumi. Please, come inside. Father will be happy to see that a new student has found her way to our dojo.” Kasumi led Ranma into the house, and showed him to a sitting room. He knelt on the mat before the table, and waited for whoever he was supposed to speak to.

A minute or so later, a middle aged man with long dark hair and a mustache came into the room. He was tall and thin, and wore a brown gi. “My daughter Kasumi says you wanted to speak to the master of this dojo.” He took a seat opposite Ranma.

“Yes, sir.” Ranma bowed his head respectfully. “I believe you know my father, Genma Saotome.”

The man’s eyes widened in surprise. “Genma Saotome. I wasn’t aware he had a daughter. Only a son.”

Ranma tried to hide his wince, and willed his hammering heart to slow down. “Ah, I see. I think there must be some confusion. I’m Genma’s only child. My name is Ran—Reiko. Reiko Saotome.”

“Reiko Saotome. It is an honor to meet the daughter of my oldest friend. What brings you to Nerima, Reiko?” The man looked like he might be sad about something, but Ranma had no idea what.

“I—uhm… well, you see, sir.” Ranma took a deep breath. “My… father was—is. I’m sorry, sir. This is all really new to me. He told me to come here if I ever needed a place to go.” What the hell was he supposed to tell the man? That his father burned him with boiling water so bad he spent a week in a hospital? That his father routinely beat him so senseless as ‘training’ that he'd pass out, or that he’d broken nearly every bone in his body at least once?

“Old Genma sent you here, did he?” The man said. “So he won’t be joining you?”

“I hope not,” Ranma said before he could stop himself. He slapped a hand over his mouth. Shit. Now he’d have to explain that one. He needed to focus on something else, and fast. “I’m sorry, sir, but my father never told me anything about this place beyond where to find it. May I ask your name?”

The man gave him a strange, calculating look. “Tendo. Soun Tendo.” 

He clapped his hands against his knees and stood up. “I won’t turn my old friend’s daughter onto the street. Go and grab your things and I will show you to the guest room. You may stay with us for a time.”

Ranma flushed crimson, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He ducked his head. “I don’t… uhm… own anything besides what I’m wearing.”

Soun sighed. “That won’t do. You can’t live in that ratty outfit forever. Kasumi! Can you join us in here for a moment?”

The door slid open instantly. She’d been listening.

“Yes, father?” Kasumi asked.

“Little Reiko here has nothing but the clothes on her back. Can you draw her a bath and see if there’s any old clothes that you or your sisters don’t wear anymore that might fit her?” He gave her a soft smile, and beckoned her to follow him.

Ranma got to his feet and padded along behind Mr. Tendo. He seemed pretty cool. Definitely a lot more laid back than his psychopath father. 

Soun led him down the hall and up a flight of stairs. “That’s Kasumi’s room,” he pointed to a door by the landing. “She’s my oldest daughter, you see. And the next door down is my middle daughter, Nabiki’s room.” He pointed to the end of the hall. “That one’s mine.” And then his finger went to the door that had a little placard on it. ‘Akane’ it read. “That one belongs to my youngest. By the looks of you, you’re probably about the same age.” There was one more door next to it. Soun opened it. “This is our guest room. It’s all yours as long as you’re with us.”

Ranma peeked his head in and saw a simple room with a desk, a wardrobe, and a single bed. The furniture was well maintained, and the room smelled faintly of flowers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept someplace so nice. He was used to camping out at training grounds or staying in hostels. And, for the last few weeks, hospitals and buses. 

Unbidden, a small gasp of surprise escaped his lips. 

“I take it the room is to your liking, Reiko?” Soun asked her.

“Its… I’ve never had anything this nice before. Usually just…” He trailed off, flushing.

“Well, I hope you enjoy it,” he said softly. “Now, come with me. Let me show you to the bathroom. You can’t stay in that filthy old outfit forever.” And he led her to the bathroom. Kasumi stepped out of the room and gave him a kind smile.

“The bath is all ready for you, Reiko,” Kasumi said. “I’ll be back shortly with something clean for you to wear.”

Ranma nodded. Soun and Kasumi left him alone as he stepped into the bathroom and removed his clothes. He’d never actually taken a good look at himself since he’d changed, and it was alien to him to see his body look so different. 

Once he was undressed, he turned to the mirror and stared at his reflection. He didn’t recognize the girl staring back. Not the way her mouth was shaped, or the red hair that was so unlike his own. He didn’t recognize her body at all. It wasn’t his.  

He felt itchy, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just from the peeling skin.

Ranma stepped from the changing room into the washroom, and stopped dead in his tracks. The tub was full of hot, steaming water. He started at it, frozen in place, for a long time.

His breathing was shallow.

His hands were shaking.

That water was hot.

He was… afraid.

Ranma remembered the agony of the burns his father had given him. He flinched away from the tub.

With shallow breaths, Ranma sat on the small bench beneath the shower head and proceeded to hyperventilate. It’s just water, he tried telling himself. It didn’t work.

After ten minutes of barely restrained panic, Ranma was able to turn on the shower faucet with a shaking hand, and set the water to its coldest setting. When his trembling was from the temperature and not the panic induced by the steaming water in the tub, Ranma cleaned himself in the frigid water.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

Kasumi pulled an old bin of clothes that she’d really been meaning to donate out from the little storage compartment in the spare room downstairs. It was a second living space, but nobody was ever in there, and Kasumi had taken to storing their seasonal things and other various oddities there over the years. She needed to find something that she or her sisters had discarded in the past. Reiko was a tiny little thing, and skinny to boot. Kasumi was certain she wasn’t eating enough, and she’d need to correct her diet if she wanted to grow any taller.

“Let’s see…” Kasumi picked through the old clothes, eventually settling on a well worn pair of jeans that Nabiki had once been fond of and an old t-shirt of Akane’s. The rest of the clothes she would sort through later, to see if anything else would fit the poor thing. For now, she would get these upstairs and make sure Reiko didn’t need anything else. And then she’d fix the girl a delicious home cooked meal.

Kasumi made her way out of the room and saw her father standing at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed and lost in thought. “Are you okay, father?”

Soun looked up at her and smiled. “I am fine. Concerned, but fine.” He made room for her to pass, but followed her up the staircase. “Tell me, daughter, what do you make of young Reiko?”

Kasumi paused at the landing and lowered her voice. “She seems— well, she seems like she’s been…” she trailed off. Abused, she wanted to say. “Like she’s been not well taken care of.”

Soun nodded. “I’m inclined to agree. She’s a jumpy little thing, and she looked half-starved by the way those clothes were hanging off of her. Make sure she’s okay, won’t you? If she needs anything, and I do mean anything, we’ll get it for her.”

Kasumi smiled at her father. Under his gruff, martial arts master exterior he was a big softy. “You intend to let her stay indefinitely.” It wasn’t a question.

“Genma, her father, was my closest friend for nearly twenty years. We went through everything together as young men. School. Martial arts training. Heartbreak. I believed we would be inseparable, but I haven’t spoken to him since Reiko was born.” He leaned against the wall outside the bathroom with a sigh. “I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around what he may have done to that girl, but she slipped up downstairs. Said she hoped he wouldn’t come here. That he might have hurt her makes me sick to my stomach.”

Kasumi pursed her lips. “We’ll get her settled in, father. She’s here now. She’s safe with us.”

Soun nodded, but his troubled expression was firmly etched into his face. Kasumi thought he might want to say more, but he shook his head and headed back downstairs.

She watched her father go, and then turned and headed to her room. She fished a pair of clean underwear out of a drawer in her dresser, and added that to the pile. They would need to take Reiko shopping as soon as possible. Kasumi couldn’t believe she didn’t have anything to her name but those horrible old clothes. It broke her heart.

She entered the changing room and left the fresh clothes where they’d be easy to see. “Are you okay, Reiko? Can I get you anything?”

There was a long silence. “I-I’m f-fine,” Reiko said through the door.

“If you’re sure,” Kasumi said. “I’m leaving some fresh clothes for you to change into when you’re done. Please let us know if they don’t fit, I can find you something else to wear. Are you hungry?”

Another long silence. “U-uh y-yeah. I am.”

“I’ll cook you something,” Kasumi said.

Back downstairs, Kasumi whipped the kitchen into a flurry of activity. She steamed rice, sauteed vegetables, and fried every last piece of fish she could find in their fridge. She worked with a fervor that filled the house with the pleasant aroma of an expertly prepared meal.

-

Ranma sat in the washroom, naked and shivering and hoping that Kasumi wouldn’t open the door to check on him. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, ever. He was an imposter in his own body, and if anyone ever found out he wasn’t actually a girl there would be hell to pay. 

When her footsteps retreated out of the room, Ranma got to his feet and went back to the changing room. He toweled off in silence, and tried to wrap himself in the thing to warm up. The water had been colder than he’d ever wanted to bathe in, but it had felt so necessary next to the steaming tub.

He spotted the clean clothes, jeans and a t-shirt, and grabbed them. A small, light blue object fell to the floor as he whipped the clothes towards him. He hadn’t noticed that there was something else. He bent to pick it up and was horrified to see a pair of plain blue panties staring back at him. “What the fuck?”

And then it dawned on him. Kasumi had brought him clean underwear, but she thought he was a girl. 

I can’t wear this. A man certainly didn’t crossdress. His father would beat him black and blue if he ever found out Ranma had even considered wearing the panties he was now holding.

He shoved the underwear into a pocket of the jeans and pulled them on. Nope, no way, he was not wearing panties.

The t-shirt went on next.

The clothes were loose fitting, but that was fine. Preferred, even. They hid the… feminine aspects of his body and made him feel at least a little bit normal. He studiously avoided looking at himself in the mirror.

“This is fucking stupid,” he muttered to himself. 

He forced himself to look in the mirror.

A simmering rage boiled in his belly. He was furious. Furious at his father for taking him to that training ground, furious at himself for staying too long in the spring of the drowned girl, furious at the world for just moving on around him like nothing had happened.

And what made it worse was that the girl looking back at him was a complete stranger. The only thing they had in common was the sneer he had fixed on his face. 

Who are you?

Who was he?

He only just caught himself before he shattered the mirror with the fist he didn’t realize he’d been clenching. I can’t just break the damn mirror! I need them to like me enough to get me back to that stupid fucking training ground. He shook his hand out and glared at his reflection for a moment longer before he turned on his heel and marched out of the bathroom.

The smell of food hit his nostrils at once, and his stomach growled in response to the wonderful smells emanating from down the stairs. 

That smells awesome.

When was the last time he’d had a real, honest to gods, home cooked meal? Years. Two at least. Ranma took the stairs two at a time and slid down into the hallway in search of the source of the wonderful smell. He found the kitchen, and pushed the door open just in time to see Kasumi humming as she slid several pan-fried fish fillets onto a plate. Ranma licked his lips.

“Oh, Reiko, done already? I hope you’re hungry, I’m afraid I’ve cooked quite a bit.” Kasumi laughed softly and smiled at him. It was so odd to be in the presence of someone who just exuded kindness like she did, but Ranma didn’t necessarily dislike it.

“Am I ever!” Ranma said, inhaling deeply. “It smells great.” His stomach growled and he scratched at the back of his head sheepishly.

“Then please, take a seat at the table in the other room. I’ll bring everything out. Would you like tea?” Kasumi asked.

“Yes pl—” Ranma started, but his voice became a strangled croak before he could finish. Tea was hot.

Boiling water.

No. No thank you.

“On second thought… maybe just some water?” Ranma asked, heart hammering in his chest.

Men were not afraid.

And yet…

If she noticed his awkwardness, she chose not to comment on it. “Water it is, Reiko. Now go! I’ll be right behind you.”

Ranma retreated back to the other room, trying to get his erratic heart rate under control. He couldn’t exactly live in fear of hot water for his entire life. Not only was it unrealistic, but it was fucking stupid. He liked tea, and hot showers, and ramen noodles. But all he could focus on when he was faced with it was the itching of his still peeling skin and the agony he’d felt as his flesh burned and blistered.

He sat at the table, trembling, and waited for Kasumi.

She came into the room carrying a large tray that had steaming plates of food on it, as well as dishes for him to serve up with, a pitcher of water, and a drinking glass. She set the tray at the table, and took a seat next to Ranma. “Here you are, Reiko. Please, help yourself. I’m embarrassed to say that I made way, way too much.” She put her hands to her cheeks, clearly flustered - or at the very least playing it up for his sake.

Why was she embarrassed?

Ranma blinked at her, trying to understand. His stomach gurgled again, and his focus returned to the wonderful food in front of him. He busied himself scooping rice into a bowl and deciding if he’d chow down on the fish or vegetables first.

He decided on the fish.

He picked up a bite with his chopsticks and popped it in his mouth. His taste-buds exploded. “Holy shit! It’s so good!” He dove in for another bite.

Kasumi gasped. “Language!”

“What’s that?” Ranma asked as he shoveled rice into his mouth.

Kasumi giggled with her hand to her mouth. “You must have been practically starving, Reiko. You seem to have left your table manners in the washroom.”

“I haven’t had a real meal in weeks. And this is delicious,” Ranma said, taking a bite of vegetables.

Something Ranma didn’t really understand flashed across Kasumi’s face, but she schooled her features in an instant, and plastered her kind smile back onto her face. “Well, as long as you’re enjoying it, then I don’t mind.”

There was silence for a few minutes, while Ranma ate, and when he paused to refill his little rice bowl, Kasumi spoke again. “These things are a little bit too big for you.” Her hand brushed at the hem of his shirt. Ranma tensed in spite of himself, and her hand shot back into her lap. 

“‘S’fine,” Ranma said as he chewed another bite. “It’s nice to be clean for a change. Besides, I like that they’re loose fitting.”

“If you say so, Reiko,” Kasumi said. “I’ll be sure to pull a few more things out for you this afternoon.”

Ranma shrugged. “Don’t have to do that. This is fine.” He shoveled more rice into his mouth.

“It is not, Reiko Saotome. No girl should have just one outfit to wear, especially one that doesn’t fit her properly.” Kasumi had a strangely fierce look in her eyes, and Ranma had no idea what to make of it. 

She was trying to baby him, and that rubbed him the wrong way. Why did everyone act like he was suddenly some incompetent kid who needed to be babied? “I’m not a charity case. I don’t want…” he trailed off. What didn’t he want? 

Men did not need help.

Ranma looked anywhere but Kasumi. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. Maybe he should have just figured out a way back to Jusenkyo instead.

“Oh, Reiko, sweetheart,” Kasumi whispered. “I didn’t mean anything by it. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

That made him mad, too. Ashamed? Ashamed of what? Of course he didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. One moment, he’d been shoveling food into his mouth, and the next he was filled with almost uncontrollable anger. He didn’t know what to do with it. Kasumi had been nothing but kind to him. He shouldn’t be lashing out at her. He had to get it under wraps. 

Men were in control of their emotions.

He clenched his hand into a fist around his chopsticks and tried to get himself to calm down. 

Why am I on a knife’s edge all the damn time?

It wasn’t like he could just lash out at Kasumi, challenge her to a fight and settle his nerves that way. She wasn’t a fighter, and Nabiki and Akane probably weren’t either.

And even if one of them did know how to fight… Men did not hit women.

“I… I think I’m full,” Ranma said, pushing his dishes away and rising from the table. “Thank you for the meal.” He retreated from the room and took the stairs at a run. He needed to be alone.

Men did not run away from their problems.

-

Kasumi watched the girl retreat up the stairs with a frown. She cleaned up the dishes and took them to the kitchen, they could be properly washed later, and then set off in search of her father. 

She found him in the dojo. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Soun turned to her and dropped out of his kata. “Not at all, Kasumi. How is young Reiko?”

“That’s what I wanted to speak with you about, father.” Kasumi fiddled with her skirt. “She’s… Her table manners are non-existent and she’s not afraid to use colorful language. She’s hurting. Badly. She flinched when I touched her. And she’s either ashamed or embarrassed or both that she’s even here in the first place.” Kasumi blinked back the tears that had come to her eyes. “You still intend to let her stay.” It was not a question.

“I do,” Soun said matter of factly.

“I know we don’t know her at all,” Kasumi said. “But I’ll be damned if she gets hurt anymore. I can’t, father. She’s so small, so jumpy. It was like she’d never had a real meal before. She ate like the food would be taken away from her. Ate as fast as she could.” She took a breath to keep her voice from breaking.

And there had been whatever had set Reiko off about the tea, which Kasumi was going to get to the bottom of.

“We’ll do what we can, Kasumi. We’ll do what we can…” Soun rubbed at his temples. “Let’s just focus on getting her settled for now. She’ll need the necessities, and one of you girls can take her clothes shopping.”

Kasumi nodded. “I’d be happy to, though I’m not sure if she’s going to respond well to one of us dragging her through town and buying things for her.”

Soun stroked his chin, thinking. “We will come up with something, Kasumi.”

“I hope so, father.”

“Did she… tell you anything about her situation?” Soun asked.

Kasumi shook her head. “No, father.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of it, I suspect. One way or another,” Soun said.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

Soun Tendo knelt at the family shrine. He’d lit the incense long ago, and had offered his prayers to his deceased wife. But after that, he’d folded his arms across his chest and stared at the portrait of his departed beloved in silence. The minutes ticked on, and he mulled over the strange events of the day.

“Something very strange happened today, my love,” he said at long last. “We had a visitor come to the house. A young woman. She’s the daughter of Genma Saotome, you remember him, don’t you? Anyway, she came here seeking shelter at my dojo.” He scrubbed at his face, feeling his years weighing on him. “Do you remember, right after our Akane was born, Genma said he had a son? We had talked about an arranged marriage to combine our two schools of martial arts. He… I think he lied, beloved. His daughter, Reiko, she’s an only child. And I think my old friend abused her.”

He couldn’t fathom ever doing anything to harm his children. He’d be damned if anyone ever hurt a hair on any of his daughter’s heads. Just trying to picture it made his eyes misty. He blinked back the tears and reached out to the photograph. God, how he missed his wife. Her laugh, her smile, the way her hair would brush against his nose when he cuddled her at night.

“I wish you were here today.” He wished she were there every day. “You were always so very good with our daughters when they were sad, or scared, or hurt. I think Reiko needs someone like you. I don’t know how to be that person. I’ve done my best by our girls, beloved, but I don’t know if…

“I don’t want to dwell on that. No, no, not yet. We’re taking her in, of course. You’d kill me if I turned her away, and I think Kasumi might make you wait in line.” He wiped at the corners of his eyes. “I never thought, in all my days, that when this day came, when Genma brought his child to us, that I would hate him for it. And isn’t that the funniest thing? He isn’t even here.

“He was my brother, once upon a time. How could a man I loved as my own family…” He trailed off. “It’s all speculation, of course. I don’t know for sure, but I’ve had many students over the years, some of whom had less than ideal lives at home. And the signs are all there. Please, beloved, show me how to help this child.”

The front door opened and closed, and Soun wiped at his eyes again. 

“I’m home!” Nabiki called from the entry way.

Soun bowed one last time to the portrait of his wife, and rose from the shrine. He walked down the hall and met Nabiki in the front of the house. He pulled her into a hug. She was whole, she was safe. Today of all days, he needed that affirmation. 

“Dad?” Nabiki said. “You’re being weird. We’ve talked about this.”

Soun chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I’m happy you made it home safely, my daughter. How was your day?”

“It was school, dad. It was pretty lame,” Nabiki said.

“I thought you enjoyed school,” Soun said. 

“I guess,” Nabiki said. “But I’d really like to just get it over with some days.”

“I suppose that’s fair. Tell me, Nabiki, do you know when Akane will be home?” He asked her.

Nabiki shuffled past him in the hallway, and headed for the kitchen. “I think she went to Dr. Tofu’s place. You know how she is, always getting in fights with boys at school. She wanted to get her hand looked at.”

“There’s quite a bit of food, if you’re hungry,” he said to his middle daughter. “Kasumi cooked up a storm earlier this afternoon.”

Nabiki unwrapped the food, and set about heating some of it up for herself. “Why on earth did she make this much when nobody was home?”

“Ah, well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. But I wanted to call a sort of family meeting to discuss it.” Nabiki gave him a look. “It’s not bad news, not precisely. In fact, one day I think we’ll all find that it was very, very good news.” He reached for the telephone and address book, flipping through it until he found Dr. Tofu’s information.

He dialed the number, and smiled at Nabiki while the phone rang. “We had someone come by the dojo today. She’s upstairs in the extra bedroom now. Yes, Dr. Tofu? It’s Soun Tendo. Nabiki tells me that Akane is planning to stop by your clinic this afternoon— she’s already there? Excellent! Well, after you’re finished with her check up, can you please send her on home. Yes. Yes of course. I’m sure Kasumi would be more than happy to. I’ll pass it along. Thank you, bye.”

Nabiki was halfway through her plate when he hung up the receiver. “As I was saying, we have a guest upstairs, and I’d like if we could all speak about it as a family.”

“You taking on a new student or something?” Nabiki asked. “If you want to reopen the dojo, dad, go ahead. We don’t need to have a family discussion.”

“It’s not that, exactly, Nabiki. I don’t actually know if she practices the Anything Goes style, or any style of martial arts at all, for that matter.” 

Nabiki took her now empty dishes to the sink and started washing them. “So then what’s some random girl doing here?”

“She’s the daughter of a friend of mine,” Soun said, picking up a towel, and taking the dishes as Nabiki washed them so that he could dry them off. They worked in silence for a few minutes until the dishes were cleaned and dried.

From down the hall, Akane greeted them, “I’m home!”

“We’re in the kitchen,” Soun called back.

Akane appeared a moment later, pulling her school bag off of her shoulders. “Dr. Tofu said you wanted to talk to me about something, so he wouldn’t let me stick around. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, Akane dear, I think so. If you and Nabiki wouldn’t mind joining me in the sitting room, I’ll go and fetch Kasumi.” Soun hurried from the kitchen, and out into the yard, where Kasumi was hanging out clean bedsheets to dry.

“Hello, father,” Kasumi said. “Did you need anything?”

“Nabiki and Akane are finished with school for the day, I was hoping you might join us in the living room. I’d like to discuss our guest with all of you.” He fiddled with the sleeves of his gi absently as he spoke.

Kasumi clapped, eyes bright with anticipation. “Yes! I’ll be just a moment. I have one more sheet to hang up.” 

Soun nodded and joined his younger daughters in the sitting room.

“What’s all this about, daddy?” Akane asked.

Soun took his seat at the table. “I wanted to let you know that earlier this afternoon, a very sweet young woman paid a visit to our dojo.” He folded his arms across his chest. How was the best way to explain the situation, and the history of his relationship with Genma Saotome.

“A new student?” Akane asked, eyes bright and eager. “Daddy, are you reopening the dojo?”

Soun raised a hand to forestall more questions.

“She is the daughter of an old friend of mine, and I believe I owe you girls some degree of transparency regarding the situation.” Kasumi entered the room carrying a tray with tea for each of them, and sat next to Akane. Tea was served, and Soun took a sip of the steaming brew as he gathered his thoughts. “You see, when I was a young man, I trained underneath an incredibly gifted martial arts master, and another of his students became my closest friend. Together we mastered many styles of martial arts and eventually we founded our two branches of the Anything Goes Style of Martial Arts. Both of us agreed, at the time, that we wanted to join our schools together one day, and so when he told me that he had a son, we agreed that we would one day introduce him to you, in the hopes that one of you three might agree to be his wife.”

Akane and Nabiki exploded in protest as he paused his explanation to take another sip of tea. Kasumi blushed lightly and fiddled with her ponytail, but did not join in the verbal protests. “None of you need to worry about that today,” Soun said, tone placating. “Reiko Saotome is not a man, and after today, I’m not sure I would hold any of you to a planned engagement even if he were.”

“So why is she here, then?” Akane asked. “Not to be rude, or anything.”

Soun sighed. “That brings us to her arrival today, I suppose, girls. Reiko arrived, half starved with little more than the clothes on her back. There is a great deal of evidence that she’s been abused by her, as of right now, absentee father.” All three of his girls’ faces contorted in worry and disgust.

 “All she knew of this dojo was that she could come to us if she was ever in trouble,” Soun continued. “If my suspicions about her situation are correct, it took a great deal of courage for her to seek us out at all.”

Nabiki scoffed, and put her steaming mug of tea on the table. “So the kid just shows up and expects us to look after her?”

“Nabiki!” Kasumi said. “If you were in her situation, I should hope the people you went to for help were willing to look out for you.”

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t,” Nabiki said, raising her hands in surrender.

“I wanted you all to be aware,” Soun said. “That we’ll be fostering Reiko for the foreseeable future. I would also greatly appreciate it if you could look out for her as she adjusts to living with us.”

“Can we meet her?” Akane asked, a blazing look in her eyes.

-

Ranma woke to a gentle knocking at the door to the guest room. He was splayed out on the floor with the pillow and comforter from the bed. The mattress had been so fucking soft, and he’d not been able to find a spot that was comfortable. So, after god only knew how long, he’d pulled the pillow and blanket down and curled up on the floor. 

The floor, at least, was similar to the bedroll he’d lugged halfway around the world on his training trip. It was comfortable in a familiar sort of way. 

He blinked, eyes heavy with sleep cut too short, and turned his head, blearily, to the door. “Wha’sit?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

“Reiko, sweetie, Nabiki and Akane are home. They’d love to meet you,” Kasumi said through the door.

Ranma yawned and rubbed at his eyes. “‘Mkay. Jus’a sec.” He took a moment to stretch, and then padded to the door. He pulled it open to find Kasumi standing there with that ever-present smile on her face. 

How on earth was a person so happy all the time? It didn’t make sense.

“They’re just downstairs, Reiko.” Ranma nodded and followed the older woman down the stairs, still blinking sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t slept well since leaving the hospital, and he was only mostly annoyed that he’d been woken from his midday slumber.

Ranma allowed himself to be led to the sitting room, where Mr. Tendo was sitting with his other two daughters. One of them had a short, brown bob of hair, and the other had long dark hair… he stumbled and nearly face planted when he saw her. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his entire life.

“Reiko, are you all right?” Kasumi asked, steadying him. 

“Uh, yeah,” Ranma said, face flushed. “Just tired.”

“Reiko, I hope you’re settling in okay,” Mr. Tendo said. 

“Yeah, thanks for, well, everything,” Ranma said. Maybe if he stayed perfectly still everyone would stop looking at him.

“I’d like to introduce you to my other daughters, Reiko. This is Nabiki,” Mr. Tendo gestured to the girl with the brown bob. “And this is Akane,” he gestured to the girl with the long dark hair. Seriously, how the heck did girls even get that pretty?

“Yo,” said Nabiki.

“It’s nice to met you, Reiko,” said Akane. “Let’s be friends.”

Ranma blinked. Nobody had ever just asked him to be friends before. Well, not except for when he was like, five. What on earth was she…

Oh, right. I’m a girl right now, too.

“I’d like that,” Ranma said.

“Me too!” Akane smiled at him.

He didn't know what else to say, so he shuffled awkwardly to the table and sat down on his knees. “Thank you all for being so welcoming.”

“Of course, Reiko,” Kasumi said. “We're happy to have you.”

Ranma fidgeted, not sure what to do with himself. He felt very uncomfortable, and he wished that everything going on here wasn’t about him. And they didn’t even know he was a he! They were all treating him like some helpless little girl. He’d studied martial arts since he could walk, damnit! He could take care of himself.

On the other hand, being friends with someone sounded nice.

“Do you know kempo?” Akane asked.

“Okinawan kempo, yeah,” Ranma said. “And a little bit of Nippon kempo.”

Akane’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Do you wanna spar?”

“Akane, I’m not sure that’s the best—” Soun started to say, but Ranma was positively beaming. She wasn’t treating him like a fucking girl.

“I’d love to!”

Akane was on her feet in a flash, her long hair whipping about excitedly. “Well then, let’s get changed and head to the dojo!”

Ranma didn’t get up, face turning red as he looked anywhere but at Akane. “I don’t have anything else to wear, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have, like, six training outfits. I’m sure one of them will fit you,” Akane said. Ranma looked up and saw her standing beside him, hand outstretched. He took it and she pulled him to his feet.

“Lead the way,” he managed.

Akane dragged him from the room and up the stairs. He tried not to focus on the fact that she was still holding his hand when she pushed open the door to her bedroom. It showed all the signs that a teenage girl lived there, and Ranma looked around curiously. He’d never been in a girl’s room before.

There were all sorts of things that made the room feel lived in. From the little decorations on her desk, to the comforter, and even the little stuffed bear by the pillow. Ranma wondered what it would be like to always have the same place to come home to. To make something truly belong to yourself.

“Here,” Akane said, handing him a gi. “This one I don’t wear so much anymore.”

Ranma took it. “Thanks.” He went to change in the guest room.

He slipped out of the jeans and t-shirt and into the gi as fast as he could. He tied the belt around his waist and tested the give experimentally. It felt good to be out of the jeans and into something he could move more freely in. 

A gi, at the very least, was something he felt comfortable in. It was familiar. He could wear it like a suit of armor.

He dropped into a fighting stance and threw a few punches and kicks. It was maybe a little bit big on his now much smaller, female body, but it would do. It wasn’t going to fall off, at the very least.

Ranma made his way back to the hallway, and found Akane practically vibrating with excitement at the door to her room.

“All set?” she asked. He nodded. 

They made their way down the stairs and out to the dojo. Akane strode across the polished wooden floor and bowed to Ranma. He bowed back. She took her fighting stance and smirked at Ranma.

“You ready?” 

Ranma nodded, but kept his arms behind his back.

“If you’re sure,” Akane said, and then she closed the distance between them and threw a punch at his face. Ranma avoided the blow by tilting his head slightly to the side. Akane followed up her first punch with a sweeping kick, which Ranma avoided by pivoting on one foot and spinning around so that he was behind Akane.

His own surprise at avoiding her attacks so easily nearly cost him his head when she threw her next punch, but he bent backwards to avoid it, and flipped himself over with a backwards roundoff. He was so much faster and lighter in this form, and his smaller size made all of his moves so much quicker. He was fast.

“Come on!” Akane shouted. “Attack me!”

She threw four more strikes, but Ranma danced away from them, hands clasped behind his back. He figured out her gambit as she tried to kick him again. Akane was driving him towards the wall, where she assumed his dexterity would be lessened.

He let her drive him back until he was nearly at the wall, and then he leapt over a punch directed at his sternum, flipping in midair and landing behind Akane. He poked her in the back of the head.

Akane’s gasp of surprise as she turned around made him chuckle. It came out more like a giggle in this form, but it was what it was, he supposed.

“You’re fast,” Akane said. “And you’re pretty good. I’m glad you ended up being a girl.”

Ranma made a face. “What?”

“It’s just…” Akane huffed a breath. “It’s just, well, I’m really happy you’re a girl. I don’t really like boys. I don’t know what I would have done if you wound up being one like daddy said he was told by your dad.”

She gave him a dazzling smile. 

“Come on, let’s wash up,” Akane said.

He stared at her as she walked towards the door, a pit forming in his stomach. He hadn’t even thrown a punch. Hadn’t taken the fight seriously. He hadn’t respected her. All he’d done was exploit a flaw in her stance that made her attacks easy to read.

A man did not hit a woman.

But… he wasn’t a man right now. And he hated how people had been treating him in his girl body. Besides, she wanted to be his friend.

“Wait!” 

Akane turned to him, hand on the sliding bamboo door. “What’s up?”

He felt his face flush again. Why was he so nervous? “I, uh, you’re pretty good, too.” Get it together, Saotome. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “Do you want me to show you why I was able to avoid your punches?”

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

After Akane had all but dragged Reiko out to the dojo, Kasumi excused herself from the table. She made her way back to the small entryway, where she’d left her shopping bags less than an hour before, and took them to the kitchen. She took her time unpackaging a small toiletry bag, humming a tune under her breath as she filled it with a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo, conditioner, a small bottle of lotion, a razor, tweezers, pads, and tampons. There were a million and a half more things that Reiko needed, but this was a start, and Kasumi wished that she could do more.

Girls should have clothes and books and floofy stuffed bears.

They just couldn’t afford to go all out right now. She’d have to find a part-time job, and she properly could, now that the school year had started. Akane and Nabiki wouldn’t be home as much, so she wouldn’t need to spend quite so much time around the house.

When the bag was packed full to the point of bursting, she fastened the clasp with a satisfied smile and headed for the stairs. She’d just leave it up in Reiko’s room, and their wayward houseguest could open it at her leisure.

She pushed the door open and stopped dead in her tracks.

Kasumi took in the little nest Reiko had made on the floor in her room. She’d pulled the comforter and pillows down to the floor, carefully wedged herself between the foot of the bed and the wall, so that if anyone wanted to speak with her, there was only one direction they could come from.

“What on earth has this poor girl been through?” Kasumi whispered.

She set the toiletry bag on the nightstand, and picked up the comforter and the pillows. With great care, she remade the bed and smoothed out any creases and wrinkles in the fabric. She’d get that girl settled in and feeling like part of her family if it was the last thing she did.

When she was finished, she left the room and hurried back downstairs.

She felt heavy in a way she hadn’t since her mother had passed away, and she knew, she knew that they were only seeing the very outermost layer of Reiko’s abuse. They were seeing the parts of it that Reiko didn’t know how to bury, didn’t know how to hide.

It was, at this point, a matter of how deep that trauma went. 

Kasumi was very certain that she was not qualified to help someone unpack all of their trauma, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try.

Downstairs, Kasumi found that Nabiki had long since retreated to her own room, but her father was sitting on the patio, looking out into the garden and sipping a cup of tea.

Maybe if she just focused on something else for now, she’d be able to get her head on straight.

“Should I start on dinner?” Kasumi asked.

“If you’re feeling up for it, Kasumi, dear. You’ve had a busy day yourself, and I’m sure you’d like to rest.” Soun put his tea down and patted the wood of the patio. Kasumi joined him. “Besides, I think there’s still leftovers of what you cooked this afternoon when Reiko arrived.”

“She slept on the floor this afternoon,” Kasumi said, pulling her ponytail over her shoulder and tugging at it. It was a nervous habit she’d developed years ago, something to do with her hands when she was trying to figure out what she wanted to say. “I found her comforter and pillow shoved up against the bed frame, just underneath the window.”

“Can’t have been comfortable,” Soun said softly, taking a sip of his tea. 

Kasumi knew her father well. She was the oldest, and she’d been the one to step up when he’d fallen apart in the wake of their whole world collapsing all those years ago. It was strange to her that she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. “That’s all you have to say?” 

“That poor girl has been through a lot,” Soun said. “She’s doing her best to hide it, but…”

What he left unsaid spoke volumes. They sat in silence in the cool evening air for a long time, Kasumi trying to find the words to express her frustration. Eventually, she chose a topic. “I’m going to need to find part-time work. Our finances were already a little bit tight, month to month.”

“You don’t have to put such responsibility on yourself, Kasumi,” Soun said. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make everything work.”

“I can handle it,” Kasumi said, surprised by her own fierceness. “She’s staying, so she’s family.” And she was going to look out for her family, same as she always had. That included everything from help with homework, to clean clothes, to a shoulder to cry on.

Nobody, nobody was going to abuse that kid on her watch.

-

Akane stepped out of the dojo and into the cool night air breathing hard. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead with sweat, and she was absolutely exhausted. She didn’t think she’d ever, in her entire life, had a workout like that. Reiko Saotome had absolutely put her through her paces after their spar, and they’d worked up quite a sweat working side by side. But Akane was overjoyed with the results of their impromptu training session.

Reiko was awkward and shy, but without a doubt the coolest girl Akane had ever met. And the best martial artist to boot. She’d exposed a flaw in Akane’s guard that Akane hadn’t known existed before she had ever even thrown a punch. How could anyone be that skilled?

And Reiko was nice about it, too. She’d observed Akane’s moves and then offered to show her what about her stance had been off. Oh yeah, she was definitely, definitely going to be good friends with this girl. And if she had a little baggage like her dad said, well that was okay. Friends helped each other out.

“I’m absolutely beat,” Akane said, closing the dojo door behind Reiko. “Let’s get washed up and then see if Kasumi made anything for dinner.”

“Yeah, sure,” Reiko said. She seemed, to Akane at least, quite a bit more relaxed than she had at the table earlier. 

They made their way back into the house, Akane asking a whirlwind of questions about the different styles that Reiko knew. 

“There’s a block in Tae Kwon Do that might really suit you,” Reiko was saying as they were about to walk up the stairs. Nabiki was on her way down, and nearly knocked Akane over as she turned the corner.

“I hope all that sweat is from training,” Nabiki said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Eww, Nabiki,” Akane said, shoving past her sister. “Of course it is. We were working on blocks and stances. Come on, Reiko, don’t worry about her. She’s always got her mind in the gutter.”

Akane led the way up the stairs and to the washroom.

“I-uh, I should— you should… I’ll wash up after you.” Reiko said, face crimson when Akane opened the bathroom door. 

“Why? It’s not like there’s any need to wait. Tub’s big enough for at least three,” Akane said.

“I just—I don’t—I’m not.” Reiko was waving her hands while trying, and failing, to sound nonchalant. 

“Come on, Reiko. It’s no big deal. We’re both girls.” Akane grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the room.

Reiko made a strangled eep sound and allowed herself to be pulled into the room. Akane untied her belt, and slid the gi off of her shoulders. Reiko went into overdrive again, stammering and trying to make an excuse to leave. “You know, I think I’m really mostly just tired, Akane. I’ll go into the other room and— and— and just lie down. I’ll clean up in the morning. Yeah, the morning. That’s right. I’m just gonna go lie down and—”

Akane put a hand on Reiko’s shoulder. “Breathe.”

Reiko froze, and Akane could feel how tense she was.

“You uncomfortable with me seeing you naked?” Akane asked.

Reiko nodded.

“Okay,” Akane said. “You go first. Let me know when you’re in the tub.”

Somehow that made things worse. “N-no!” Reiko almost shouted, her voice panicked. “I can’t— I don’t— It’s not…”

Akane hadn’t really seen what her father had meant before. Reiko had been so cool in the dojo, showing off her incredible talent for the martial arts (and being kind enough to show Akane anything she’d wanted). But now, watching the girl self-destruct at the prospect of taking a bath, Akane realized that her dad had been right. 

What was she supposed to do?

What would her mother have done?

What would Kasumi do?

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Akane asked, feeling awkward. 

Reiko shook her head, and Akane let her hand fall away from the other girl’s shoulder. The poor thing was shaking. Maybe it would be for the best if they washed up separately. But her father’s request, ‘keep an eye on her,’ made her hesitate. If their roles were reversed, Akane would want someone there for her, even if she didn’t want to talk about it.

“Okay,” Akane said. “But if you ever do, let me know. We’re friends now, right?” She hoped it was enough to keep Reiko from snapping like a twig under too much pressure.

Reiko nodded, or at least tried to, and then she was out of the bathroom in a flash, leaving Akane blinking in her wake.

-

Ranma slammed the door to the guest room behind him and tried to get his shaking under control. That had been close.

He definitely didn’t want to see Akane naked. Well he did, but that was besides the point, he supposed. And he definitely didn’t want her to see him naked. No. No siree. Definitely not. Not now, and not while he was in the body of a fucking girl.

Because if she ever found out, and he didn’t believe for a second that he could keep it up indefinitely, she would hate him. Eventually, they would all find out and he’d be out on the street in a heartbeat.

Just gotta hold it together until I can get back to China.

He could do that. He could figure out how to be a girl for a few weeks. How hard could it be? Everyone here seemed to believe he was a girl, so he must be doing an okay job of it. What else was there? He could feign interest in, like, shopping or something if it really came down to it.

Now all he had to do was wait for Akane to finish washing up, so that he could get cleaned up, too.

Might as well at least lounge for a minute, Ranma thought. It was then that he noticed the bed was made again, which he was positive he hadn’t done when Kasumi had roused him from his nap. 

Would they say something? Would they confront him about it? Kick him out? Tell him not to put their nice bedding on the floor, or make him replace it?

An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. What was it about this place that had him so on the edge? 

Next he noticed the little light blue case on the nightstand. He picked it up and was surprised how heavy it felt. He placed it on the bed and unclasped it, flipping it open to see what was inside.

His eyes shot open when he saw its contents and he stepped away from it as if burned. 

Why? Why are they being so nice? 

Everything, everything in his life prior to Jusenkyo had been cold, calculated, transactional. His father had beat those lessons into him. Nobody did anything for free. There was always an angle, something they wanted, and if you accepted their gifts, one day they would come calling to collect on your debt.

He was about to close the case with a shaky hand when he saw the little piece of paper folded and tucked underneath the tube of toothpaste. He pulled it out.

‘Reiko,

I know it’s not much, but it’s what I could get for you on short notice.

Let me know if you need anything else!

Kasumi’

The note fluttered to the ground.

He didn’t deserve any of it.

All he’d done since he met them was lie. He’d lied about his name, his gender, his father and the circumstances that brought him here. They didn’t know anything about him. Didn’t know he was just using them to… to…

Something wet splashed onto his still trembling hands, and he looked down at them only to find his vision completely blurred out by the deluge of tears that cascaded down his cheeks.

Men did not cry.

And he hadn’t, not in years, at least nowhere his father could see or hear.

He wiped furiously at his eyes, gasping for breath and hoping that the strangled choking sounds he was making weren’t audible for everyone else in the house. He clung to the bag of soaps like a lifeline and sank to his knees.

Why were these people so nice?

Why was Kasumi looking out for him?

Why did Akane want to be his friend?

Why?

Why?

Why?

The keening wail that escaped his lips wasn’t quiet.

-

Nabiki didn’t really do friends, or emotions for that matter. She’d shoved all of those empathetic parts of her away and locked them in a deep, dark pit when her mother had passed away. If she ever felt… empathy again it would be too soon. No, she’d spent most of her life cultivating an aloofness to protect her from that soul shattering pain that had once consumed her entire world.

It had been a difficult road, and every time she’d come close enough to someone outside of her dad and sisters that she even remotely cared about, she made sure to build up the walls around her heart as tall and as thick as she could. The practice had worked wonders over the years. No boyfriends, no best friends, no fights, no drama, no bullshit.

She had Kasumi and Akane and that was enough.

The rest of her heart was filled with food and sweets and expensive things. Things that didn’t care if you were too loud or too mean or too distant or too greedy.

Over the years, she’d carefully cultivated a reputation as someone who did not give a shit. She would help you out, for a price. She would be your friend, for a price. She would get you what you needed, for a price. Everything was transactional.

It was clean.

It was safe.

So when she heard a sound— a sound she’d resolved not to be anywhere near ever again— coming from the guest room, she had no idea what possessed her to go and fucking see what was going on.

When the sobs started, Nabiki dropped the magazine she’d been flipping through while she lounged on her bed and sat bolt upright. Her first thought was that something had happened to Akane, and that she’d need to figure out who had caused it and ruin their life forever.

But after the magazine’s pages had fluttered closed on her pillow and she was halfway to the door of her own room, she realized that she didn’t recognize the sound at all. It wasn’t Akane, and it wasn’t Kasumi.

New kid, Nabiki realized. Something had set her off. Something had set her off bad.

She hated the sound of real pain. Hated how much of it had flowed from her own lips as she tried, in vain, to process the fact that her mom was just… gone. Forever. She hated how broken it made her feel, she hated how broken it made others sound.

There was nothing good about it, that kind of pain. It was the mark of somebody who’d been broken. Someone who was damaged, someone who was going to carry a scar with them for the rest of their life.

Her instincts screamed at her to just ignore it. It wasn’t her problem. She’d shoved the part of her that could feel that way into a box and let it rot for the better part of a decade. She was past it. No more bullshit, no more heartbreak.

She stopped, with her hand on the door to her room and listened.

Ranko, or whatever her name was, was choking out the kind of sobs that only came when something finally broke you.

It was ugly, and Nabiki didn’t want to deal with it.

Kasumi’ll take care of it, she thought. But there were no footfalls on the stairs, or in the hallway, or anywhere else for that matter. Where was everyone?

She listened, knuckles white on her doorknob as she held it in a vice-grip and listened to the sounds coming from across the hall.

After a time, when she realized that everyone else was well and truly out of earshot, she rested her forehead against the door. “Fuck me,” she said, and turned the knob. She was across the hall in two strides, tearing open the door to the guest room on the third.

She found Reiko wedged between the nightstand and the bedframe, as if she were hiding from the world, with her head in her hands and a small light blue bag on her lap. Nabiki closed the door behind her and knelt in front of Reiko.

What the fuck am I doing?

But she knew what she was doing, of course she did. The same thing she did when Akane finally understood death for the first time. The same thing she’d done when Kasumi had decided not to go to college to look after all of them. The same thing her sisters had done for her.

She shifted the nightstand out of the way, far enough that she could sit down beside the girl with the fiery hair, and slid into the alcove she’d created next to Reiko. In a single motion, she’d slung her arm around Reiko’s shoulders and pulled her head into her chest.

Reiko made a surprise, choking sound when she felt Nabiki’s touch. She tried to pull back, but Nabiki held her tight. 

“I got you, kid. I got you,” Nabiki said.

The girl struggled in her arms for a second longer, but Nabiki just shushed her and ran her fingers through the girl’s hair. The sobs that had temporarily abated when Nabiki had joined her redoubled.

“I know,” Nabiki whispered. “Believe me, kid. I know.”

She blinked back the stinging at the corners of her own eyes.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

Nabiki woke with a crick in her neck, feeling stiff and uncomfortable and unbelievably parched and warm. She blinked awake and tried to stretch her neck, but it was no use. She was going to be stiff and sore all day, and likely most of the following day, too.

That’s what I get. What had she been thinking? Going into the guest room and doing something that was gonna make Reiko think she actually gave a shit had been a completely braindead maneuver.

Of course, she was still in Reiko’s room, still sitting on the floor, still wrapped around the girl who’d cried herself to sleep the night before. The warm weight pressed against her was breathing softly, one hand loosely tangled on her shirt. Nabiki observed the girl as the gray, pre-dawn light came through the window. 

Reiko’s hair was a tousled mess, her cheeks were tear stained, and she was still wearing the gi she’d worn out to the dojo the night before. She was, for now at least, not lost in her pain. Reiko’s breathing was deep and even and everything in that little room was calm.

It had been a rough night, Reiko had cried until no more tears would come, and then trembled and hiccuped and gasped for breath to steady her until she’d succumbed to sleep. Nabiki remembered what that was like, remembered it and hated it all the same.

What broke you, kid? Nabiki wondered.

She had to pee, and she was pretty sure the pins and needles in her leg would last forever, but she didn’t dare move. She’d been where Reiko was now, been so consumed by hurt that she didn’t know how the fuck she was supposed to get over it. Sometimes, the only comfort was sleep, and Nabiki sure as fuck wasn’t going to wake the kid up.

The minutes ticked by, and Nabiki stifled a yawn, gently combing her fingers through Reiko’s hair until, finally, she stirred.

Reiko blinked awake, fingers curling into Nabiki’s shirt and tried to orient herself. When she clocked Nabiki’s presence, she snapped upright and started mumbling an apology, pulling back from her like she’d been electrocuted. Nabiki winced. The sight of Reiko putting her guard back up so immediately was an all too familiar one. She would know, she did it every fucking day.

“S-sorry,” Reiko stammered, scooting away from Nabiki and into the room. “I-I didn’t, you didn’t have to, I mean, there was, I was just— it doesn’t”

“Relax. I’m not gonna make fun of you or tell anyone, okay?” Nabiki said, trying to figure out which thing the kid would be most worried about. “And I get it. Really, I do.”

Reiko looked at her like she’d grown fangs and changed colors, a wide-eyed, awestruck look on her face. The poor kid was frozen in shock, not sure what to make of the person in front of her.

“Why?” Reiko said eventually, voice hoarse.

Nabiki frowned. She wasn’t sure she understood the question. Was almost certain she didn’t, in fact. “Why what?”

“You’re not…” Ranma looked down, hiding her eyes with her bangs. “You’re not going to use it against me? I was… weak. ” She spat the last word like a curse and hung her head. Reiko’s hands bunched into fists even as she kept them firmly in her lap.

“You’ve been through some shit,” Nabiki said. “I don’t know what it was, and you don’t have to tell me. Not now, not ever. That’s your business and I won’t pry. But, Reiko…” Fuck, she was not supposed to play therapist. She didn’t do this. She had built her whole life around not doing this.

‘I would also greatly appreciate it if you could look out for her as she adjusts to living with us.’ Her father’s voice echoed through her head. “...Every single person in this house has had a night like that before. It’s not… well it’s not wrong, okay?” She felt sick. Well maybe more awkward than sick, but she certainly did not want to be having this conversation right now.

The expression on Reiko’s face made it clear that she did not understand. “But it was… I…” She turned away from Nabiki. “Men don’t—” Her back stiffened and she bit off the sound. “I’m not supposed to be like this.”

Nabiki let out a breath. Whoo boy, this girl had some shit to work through. But she’d known that, she supposed. “Be like what?”

Reiko opened her mouth to say something, closed it, and frowned. Nabiki could see that she wasn't sure how to answer. “Like a girl,” she mumbled eventually. There was a tired and haunted look in her eyes.

What the fuck was that supposed to even mean? She wasn't supposed to be like a girl?

Nabiki needed to get the fuck out of the room and never meddle again. She could just get up right now, pretend that none of her altruism had ever occurred, and move on with her life. It would be great. Perfect, even.

She opened her big fat mouth instead. “Well, kid… you are a girl. Nothing wrong with that.”

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say. Reiko winced and stood, turning to look out the window as the sun rose.

Silence stretched out between them.

Now was her chance, the numbness and discomfort in her leg from lack of blood flow be damned, she could just walk away right now. She used the nightstand to push herself to her feet.

“Nobody's ever been nice to me just because,” Reiko said so quietly that Nabiki wasn't entirely sure she was supposed to hear it.

She watched as the younger girl clenched and unclenched her fists as if she were at war with herself. Nabiki really didn’t know what to say to that. Everyone had someone they would step up to bat for, no questions asked. Nabiki had Kasumi and Akane. What the fuck did Reiko mean by nobody? Ever?

The sounds of her wails the previous night seemed all the more heartbreaking. Nabiki stood there, wanting nothing more than to run like hell and never look back, but knowing she’d never be able to live with herself if she did.

In for a penny, she reminded herself, and tried to decide just what in the ever loving fuck she was supposed to do next.

“You’re gonna have to get used to it, Reiko. People do nice shit for each other all the time.” Not as eloquent as she was hoping for, but it would get the job done.

“But I’m… I don’t deserve it, ” Reiko said.

Nabiki scoffed. “Like fuck you don’t, kid. You dragged your ass all the way here from god knows where, and you got my dad to be like, emotionally available for a day. Kasumi’s already fluttering around you like a mother hen, and Akane found a few friend and training buddy. And I… well I’m here right now, aren’t I?”

Reiko made a frustrated sound, but stayed facing the window. “You don’t understand, Nabiki.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Point is… you’re gonna find out that everyone deserves to have people in their corner.” Nabiki crossed her arms and leaned against the wall.

Reiko sniffled.

Nabiki didn’t know if she had it in her to deal with a second breakdown. She knew she’d stay through it, but still… It was a school day. And Nabiki wasn’t in the business of providing shoulders to cry on. Not to anyone except her sisters.

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a gentle knocking at the door. “Reiko, are you up?” 

Nabiki thanked her lucky stars that Kasumi had finally, finally deigned to take over the parenting and big sistering, because this shit was definitely above her paygrade.

“Yeah, we’re up,” Nabiki called through the door.

The door swung open gently, and Kasumi stepped into the bedroom. “Oh, Reiko dear, if I’d known you had worn that old gi to bed, I’d have brought these up last night.” She held up a small hamper full of clean and folded clothes. 

Reiko turned around, eyes red and watery, and sniffled. “You’re really nice.”

As Kasumi crossed the room to comfort Reiko, Nabiki took her chance to escape. “I’m gonna get ready for school.”

-

The sound of a pencil scratching on paper was not the normal sound coming from Akane’s room this early in the morning. Usually, in fact, Akane would have been up an hour ago and gone for a run before school, and then returned home to get ready.

But this morning, Akane’s whole routine was off-kilter.

Akane was running late. Well, later than normal, she supposed. It wasn’t like she was going to be late for class just yet, but she was going to have to be a little bit less gentle with all of those stupid boys that accosted her every morning in front of school. 

She’d slept like a rock after she’d washed up. The workout that Reiko had put her through had really worn her out, and she’d crashed not long after she’d made it back to her room. She was trying, desperately, to complete a math assignment while she got ready.

It was literally the third day of school, how was she already behind on homework? She scribbled furiously into her notebook as she worked out the problem she’d been assigned. 

I never go to bed before I’m done with my homework. What was I thinking?  

Well, she was thinking that she’d been tired, and that she wanted to get some rest. And she’d been trying to work up the courage to see if Reiko wanted to hang out. But that hadn’t worked out, either. She felt a little awkward after their weird exchange in the bathroom the night before, and she wasn’t sure how to handle a girl who was around her age needing to be handled so carefully.

Akane was a lot of things, but delicate wasn’t really among them. She broke cinder blocks as part of her daily exercise routine, and she was petrified she might say something to offend or hurt Reiko, too.

When she was relatively sure she had her math problem right, she pulled on her socks and dashed from the room.

Gotta grab something for breakfast!

She was down the stairs in a flash and grabbing a few pieces of fruit in the kitchen as fast as she could go. 

Breakfast in hand, she dashed back up the stairs, nearly knocking Nabiki over in her haste. “Watch it!” 

“Sorry, Nabiki, I’m just running late today!” Akane all but shouted as she made it back up the stairs. 

“It’s like six in the morning, Akane!” Nabiki yelled back. “You have way too much energy.”

Akane ignored her and returned to her room. She finished the last two problems on the assignment as fast as she could, stuffed her book, notebook, and pencil into her school bag, and then flew back down the stairs as fast as she could. 

Kasumi was with Reiko in the living room, and they were talking quietly. Reiko looked distinctly uncomfortable, if the flush on her cheeks and downcast eyes were any indication. She wondered just what they were talking about, but she didn’t have time to stop and ask, even though she desperately wanted to. It was definitely more interesting than fist fighting her way through the front door of Furinkan High School.

“I’m leaving for school!” Akane called as she shoved her shoes on.

-

After Nabiki left, Kasumi had handed him a laundry basket full of clean clothes that would more than likely fit him. There were a few skirts, another pair of jeans, a dress, and five shirts. It was too much. He didn't deserve any of it. Not even the dress, which he’d never be caught dead in.

“I… thank you,” was all he managed to say.

Kasumi didn’t say anything, but she gave him a hug and rubbed his back until he got his breathing under control.

“Get changed, sweetie,” Kasumi ordered and left the room.

Ranma complied, choosing the jeans and a blue tank-top. He dressed quickly, and when he was done, found Kasumi waiting for him in the hallway.

“All set?” she asked him.

He nodded.

Ranma allowed himself to be led downstairs by Kasumi. He was ashamed that he’d only been there a day and all three of the girls who lived here had seen him falling apart. It was pathetic, and he could imagine the wonderful things his father would have to say to him if he were here.

‘Still cross-dressing?’

‘You haven’t even tried to get back to normal have you, faggot?’

‘I did not raise my son to be a pansy.’

‘Pathetic.’

‘Weak.’

“... okay?” Kasumi asked him.

Ranma shook his head to try and push the thoughts away. “Sorry, Kasumi. I was… I was thinkin’ and I didn’t…” 

Kasumi gave him a gentle smile. “It’s okay, Reiko. I was just asking if you were comfortable running a few errands with me today.”

Ranma blinked. “I, uh— o-of course.” 

Surely it was just an excuse to get him out of the house so they wouldn’t have to give him food and clothes anymore, or deal with his moping. He looked away from her, trying to figure out where he would go next.

“I’m afraid we’ll be out for a few hours. There are a few things we need to do.”

Ranma nodded, but didn’t look up.

“I washed the old pants you arrived in this morning, and I noticed that you didn’t have any identification in the pockets.” Ranma’s head shot up and he looked at Kasumi with wide eyes. Had she read the postcard? Did she know? “It’s okay, Reiko. The things that were in your pockets are on your nightstand. I put them there when I brought you your clothes.”

Ranma tried to slow his breathing. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

“We also need to get you registered as a student at Furinkan,” Kasumi said. “So once we get your ID sorted out, we’ll go to the school and sign you up. What grade are you in?”

Ranma’s eyes went wide with horror at the thought. School? As a girl? “I... don’t know. I haven’t been to school in…” How long had it been since he’d gone to that all boys school? A year?

Kasumi frowned at him. “It’s quite all right, Reiko. How about this? How old are you?”

Ranma blinked. He’d left for China when he was fifteen, he was pretty sure. How long had it been since then? Months? A year? “I think I’m sixteen,” he said eventually. “What month is it?”

“It’s April,” Kasumi said. “School just started earlier this week.”

Ranma nodded. “Then I’m sixteen. My birthday is in November.”

“Then you’ll be in Akane’s grade at school,” Kasumi said.

Another one of those impossible to understand looks flashed across Kasumi’s face, and Ranma was afraid of what it might mean. Not that he’d ever admit it. A man did not get scared.

Besides, being in Akane’s grade meant he would get to have class with his friend, right? He could do that. As if summoned by their conversation, Akane dashed by in her school uniform, and Ranma realized that if he went to school with Akane, he’d have to wear the same thing she was.

I can’t wear a dress!

“I…” Ranma said. “I don’t know if…”

“You’ll be fine, Reiko,” Kasumi said. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you get all settled in. I was top of my class, you know.”

He had no idea how we was supposed to act around these people, but if they were even half as nice as they were acting, he knew he’d go to hell and back for them, just to make sure all the kindness they were showing wasn’t fucking wasted on a liar like him.

“And then we can go and get you some clothes!” Kasumi said with a bright smile.

Never mind. Kasumi is evil.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

Ranma’s mind raced as he followed Kasumi down the road. She was taking him to get a new ID, but technically, he didn’t fucking exist. There were going to be questions, surely, and even then, he wasn’t sure what the hell he was supposed to say. ‘Hi, my jerk of a father abducted me when I was a kid, so I’ve never stayed in one place long enough to settle in.’

Come to think of it… that might actually work. Stick to the basics, but tell the truth. Ranma had spent nearly his entire life on the road with his father, and he didn’t remember anything about where he was actually from. He was raised as a boy, but clearly he wasn’t. Ranma cringed at the thought of pointing out to anyone that he was a girl.

‘My son, you will be a man among men.’

Didn’t work out so well, did it pop?

And they’d tried to fix it. Tried until Ranma had been burned half to death and mummified in that stupid hospital somewhere in western China. But he hadn’t changed back in weeks. The timeline was fuzzy, but Ranma knew it had been at least two since Jusenkyo.

It was already affecting him, of course. He’d been a mopey mess since the hospital, and last night he’d actually cried in front of someone. He felt pathetic just thinking about it. Men didn’t cry. That was something only girls did. It was soft, it was weak, it was…

It was something that had just come up out of nowhere and brained him over the head. It was the relief at being away from his father, even if it wasn’t forever. The fucking culture shock of living with people who were being kind just because they wanted to. The time and space to try and process what the fuck was happening. 

Crying, as it turned out, felt good. Not the gasping, shaking desperation of it, nor the headache that followed, but the release of all the stuff that was hard to face on a daily basis.

Until you were finished and you had to deal with the shame and embarrassment of being a blubbery, weak little bitch.

Still…

What if pop was wrong?

Ridiculous, of course. Nobody as strong as him could be wrong. Being wrong was reserved for the defeated. For losers.

For me.

If he was going to be wrong about being here, if he was going to stick around and wait for the other shoe to drop, maybe he shouldn’t tell anyone anything. He could just pretend not to know anything about his past at all.

He didn’t want that, though. He didn’t want to lie to them.

He had to.

But maybe… he could be as honest as his circumstances allowed.

Before he could decide one way or another, Kasumi was ushering him into a building and talking to an office attendant. He shuffled his feet awkwardly behind her when the attendant looked at him, and suddenly found the linoleum tiles very interesting. Being dragged around like this was weird, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Reiko, sweetie, can you come answer some questions for us, please?” Kasumi asked.

Ranma started and looked up wildly, wanting to be anywhere else in the whole world. He hadn’t decided what the fuck he was gonna say yet!

“U-uhm s-sure!” He tried to sound confident, but stumbled over his one-word response. With an awkward laugh, he approached the little desk that the office attendant was sitting at. Kasumi guided him to the little chair next to hers, and they sat side by side. 

The attendant regarded them both for a moment. “Miss Tendo tells me that you’re in need of new government ID, but that your circumstances are quite unusual.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ranma said, feeling awkward.

“Don’t worry, dear. You aren’t the first kid who’s had a tumultuous childhood. Let’s start from the top and work our way through everything. Name?” The attendant shuffled some forms on her desk, until she had a specific one in front of her. She held her pen ready to write in the first blank box.

“Ran— Reiko. Reiko Saotome,” Ranma said. That’s not me! What do I do?

“Age?” 

“Sixteen.”

“Date of Birth?” 

“November 16th,” Ranma said. At the raised eyebrow from the woman, he continued. “Uh, Nineteen Seventy-One.”

“Sex?”

“F-female…” Ranma winced as he said it.

“What city were you born in?” The attendant asked.

Ranma blinked. He’d been on the road for so long. In and out of his home since he was little more than a toddler and then… nothing for the past ten or so years. “I, uh… I don’t know.” He felt his cheeks burning and looked down. “I’ve never… my dad, he…”

The attendant made a face and clicked her tongue.

“I assume you don’t know the government ID number you were assigned at birth?” The woman asked. Ranma shook his head.

“I don’t know if I ever did have one,” Ranma said. “I’ve spent nearly all of my life… just moving from place to place.”

“If you were born in Japan, you have one. The question is, if we can find it and get everything squared away.” The attendant glanced down her form, making little marks on the paper as she scanned it. “A lot of these you probably won’t be able to answer, but I’m gonna ask them anyway, okay?”

Ranma nodded. He felt like an asshole.

She asked him a bunch more questions, and then, when he thought it was mercifully over, she asked him his parents names. So this was it, this was how the charade ended.

“My pops is named Genma Saotome,” Ranma said slowly. “He’s… I think he’s in China right now.” Ranma knew he was in China. In Jail for nearly killing him.

The attendant nodded. “And your mom.”

“I haven’t seen her since I was six or seven,” Ranma said. “I don’t know. Her name is…” Ranma hesitated. He was pretty sure he remembered, but he’d been so little. And he’d always just called her ‘mom.’ “Her name is Nodoka, I think. I don’t know if she took my dad’s last name.” He wanted the floor to just swallow him whole. Not knowing basic shit like this was humiliating.

Something in the attendant’s face softened. “Reiko, kiddo. None of this is your fault. From what Miss Tendo told me, and judging by your discomfort, your circumstances have been less than ideal.” She handed a business card across the desk to Kasumi. “I don’t know how much you paid attention to before we started asking you all these questions, Reiko, but my name is Kazuko Okada. I’m going to be overseeing your case while we try to get your documentation all in order. Miss Tendo says you’re staying with them for now, so all of your mail will be sent there as we get this done.”

Ranma nodded. 

“I’m going to have to send you to get a blood test, so we know your type, and to make sure you’re up to date on your vaccines. In the meantime…” She trailed off and filled out another form. “This will let you get registered at school, miss Saotome. You’ll need to update the school administration when things get finalized, but that’ll be enough to get you temporarily enrolled as a student.”

Kasumi nodded, taking the forms, neatly folding them in half, and putting them in her purse. “Thank you, miss Okada.”

“My pleasure,” Kazuko said.

And just like that, Kasumi was leading him away from the desk and back down the street. They walked together in silence for a time. Ranma’s mind was reeling. He’d done it. He’d sold the charade. The only problem was… he’d just applied to become a woman permanently in the eyes of the government, which was… less than ideal.

But he hadn’t done it as Ranma, he’d done it as Reiko. He’d maintained the lie. His stomach churned with unease.

Just gotta get back to China. Then I can get back to my normal life.

He walked behind Kasumi in a fugue, trying not to dwell too much on anything, less the churning in his stomach gave way to vomiting.

When they arrived at the high school, sometime around mid-morning, Ranma was wound up so tight he thought his heart might hammer out of his chest. He did not want to enroll at Furinkan as a girl, but he’d made his bed, and now he would sleep in it.

A man did not back down from a challenge.

And this, surely, was just that. 

Well, a challenge and an identity crisis.

Nobody in Nerima, nobody at Furinkan, and nobody at the Tendo Dojo knew who he was. They all thought that he was a girl. To them, there was no Ranma, just Reiko Saotome. It should have felt freeing, but it felt like a prison.

“This won’t take long, Reiko,” Kasumi said, guiding her through the front door of the high school and towards the administrations office.

“Okay,” Ranma said quietly. He could feel the heat rising in his face.

How the fuck do I get out of this?

Of course, he knew he couldn’t, but it didn’t stop him from wishing it.

Before he could really do more than consider the possibility of coming clean… eventually, in the future, far far away from now, Ranma was registered as a student at Furinkan High School, his photograph was taken, and Kasumi had ordered him two uniforms and the requisite athletic wear for class.

That was it, it was really happening. 

He’d gone to a government building and a high school, and in both cases, he’d just smiled and nodded and told everyone he was a girl. Ranma had never felt so much shame. 

Anything Goes in Martial Arts, he reminded himself. And right now, that anything was pretending to be a girl. He could do it. He could fake it for now.

“Okay, Reiko!” Kasumi said with a bright smile as they exited the school. “Now that that’s all out of the way, let’s take you to get some necessities.”

Ranma tripped over his own feet and stumbled into Kasumi at the prospect of clothes shopping. “That’s not necessary! Really! You’ve already d-done so much, and I—”

Kasumi steadied him and then put an arm around him as they resumed walking. “You’ll need underthings and clothes that fit you properly, Reiko. We really do need to get you settled in with us, and that means having clothes of your own. Not that I mind you borrowing, of course, but I just know you’ll feel more at ease with things that belong to you.”

Ranma flushed scarlet. He didn’t know the first thing about clothes shopping as a girl, and he’d never felt the need for more than a couple of outfits while he’d been traveling and learning martial arts. More clothes just meant more to carry.

His dad had never taken him shopping for anything. He’d just grabbed what they needed when the places were closed at night, and they’d been on their way. Ranma knew it was wrong, but what was he supposed to say? Any opposition meant black eyes and bruises in the form of ‘extra training.’

He did not know what he was supposed to do when going shopping as a boy. Doing it as a girl was going to be beyond fucking impossible. He had to come up with something to tell her that would get him out of this. His heart was hammering in his chest, he felt like he was going to be sick.

The department store that Kasumi pulled him into was full of every type of clothing imaginable, and Ranma balked at the prospect of actually going through any of it. 

“Should we start with a bra for you?” Kasumi asked. “I know you didn’t arrive wearing one.”

Ranma hung his head and stopped walking. 

“What is it, Reiko?” Kasumi asked.

“It’s… I just…” What was he going to tell her? How was he going to explain that he didn’t know anything about being a girl. “I’ve never had a bra before.”

Kasumi made a sound, and Ranma could imagine that look crossing her features again. This was it. The jig was up. She was going to cut him loose and go back to her ordinary life without all of his fucking baggage ruining everything.

“You’ve never owned a bra?” Kasumi repeated, incredulous.

Ranma nodded, face red. “Never even worn one.”

“Your father never took you to get a bra?” Kasumi asked. Her voice was… harsher than normal. Usually she was so kind and polite, but this was different somehow.

Ranma stepped back from her. “I— I was raised like a boy. Treated like a boy. I’ve never owned anything even remotely feminine. I traveled with pop, he taught me martial arts. No hobbies besides trainin.’ No interests besides the next technique. He taught me nothing but how to be his son. Taught me that the world was run by men, and that men did certain things. Don’t cry. Don’t be weak. Don’t wear clothes that make you look like a pansy. Never admit you don’t know something. Take what you need. Never apologize. Don’t be such a....” Ranma blinked away tears, but studiously avoided looking at Kasumi.

He remembered his father taking away a box of crayons he’d won in a game at school. Telling him he didn’t need such girlish things. 

‘If you can take them from me, you can have them.’ Ranma had lost that fight and earned himself two cracked ribs for his troubles.

Remembered being pulled away from anyone he ever even remotely thought he could become friends with. 

‘A man doesn’t need friends. A man needs to be strong.’

He drew a shuddering breath.

He would never live up to his father’s expectations. 

He hadn’t been able to as a boy, and he certainly couldn’t now. There wasn’t a chance in hell. He couldn’t even change back. No amount of hot water had worked that day, and he’d rather die than try again.

Ranma knew he was too weak to be a man among men, and his father had known it, too.

The person that could have been loved by Genma Saotome didn’t exist. 

“The idea that I might ever be anything less than his idea of me was…” Ranma trailed off, and took another step away from Kasumi. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” He turned to run.

Kasumi caught his wrist with surprising deftness and spun him around. In a single motion, Ranma found himself wrapped in a bone-crushing hug. His first instinct was to push and try to get away, because being restrained by someone always, always resulted in pain. But the gentle firmness of it, the unyielding pressure that didn’t hurt, slowly calmed his shallow breathing and racing heart.

She was… holding him? He felt her hand gently stroke his hair. She was warm, soft, and he didn’t sense any danger. Her movements were slow enough that he knew what was going to happen before she did it, and so very delicate. 

His guard cracked, and his arms went limp at his sides.

“Forgive my impoliteness, Reiko, but your father is an asshole,” Kasumi said softly. “No ‘real man’ would ever treat his child so poorly.”

Ranma sniffled. “I never even wanted to be a girl. I just wanted him to want me.” He didn’t think his father had ever told him that he was proud, or that he had done a good job. “If I could have been a son that he could be proud of, I would have.”

Kasumi’s grip on him tightened, but it was more nice than scary.

“You listen to me, Reiko Saotome,” Kasumi said. “You are not any less because of your gender. Anyone who tells you otherwise is wrong.”

“But, I—” Ranma tried. He could just tell her. She was so safe, so warm.

“No, Reiko. No buts. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Ranma felt that pit in his stomach growing. She was being so nice, and here he was, spinning a lie based on half truths to keep up the charade of being a girl. He tried to bury his head deeper in her shoulder. If she couldn’t see his face, she wouldn’t see the guilt he knew was scrawled across his features.

“I’m such a mess,” Ranma said quietly. 

“You got away from someone who was hurting you, Reiko,” Kasumi said, still stroking his hair. Tears welled up in his eyes despite his efforts to keep them from falling.

“I… don’t think I’d actually let myself cry in years— until yesterday,” Ranma said. “And now that I did, I can’t seem to stop. I feel all pathetic. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I don’t even really think I know who I am.”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Kasumi said. “Come on, clothes can wait. Let’s get ice cream first.”

She pulled away from their hug, wiped his cheeks free of their tears with her thumbs, and then gently guided him back out of the department store and across the street to a small ice cream parlor.

Ranma thought she was the most badass person he’d ever met. How could anyone see a grubby homeless kid and just… reach out and hold them together? That kindness didn’t make any sense to him, but he felt so powerless to resist its warmth. He didn’t understand her at all, but he liked her a lot.

The ice cream parlor was a cheery, colorful place with a few small tables outside, and an array of small tables and benches inside. There were signs advertising all sorts of ice cream flavors, all of which seemed foreign to Ranma. 

“I haven’t had ice cream in years,” he said with wonder in his eyes as he looked at the myriad options available to him.

“Choose anything you like,” Kasumi said. 

He perused the options for a long time, but ultimately settled on a scoop of chocolate ice cream. Chocolate he knew he liked, and knowing something about what he did or didn’t like felt really good, especially with everything as it had been the past couple of weeks.

Kasumi ordered their ice cream (mint chip for her), and settled them down at a table. Ranma ate his slowly, trying to unravel the meaning of the expression on her face.

Eventually, she broke the silence.

“When my—” She cleared her throat. “When my mother died, I was around twelve years old. She knew it was coming, we all did. It didn’t make it better, or easier for any of us, but we knew. She was sick for a long time. Leukemia. We all watched as she just… faded away in front of us.” She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes and smiled sadly at her cup of ice cream. 

“I’d always wanted to be a doctor, you know? Mom and dad were supportive of that dream, even before she got sick. But especially after she passed away, I wanted to go and study the thing that took my mom away from me. I didn’t want to be scared of it anymore.

“But I let that dream go so that I could see Nabiki and Akane grew up cared for and well fed. My father hasn’t ever really recovered from what happened, and I’ve spent so long holding that house together, that I can’t imagine anything else anymore.” She sniffled.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Ranma asked, awkwardly.

“My reason? I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to know what you want, or who you are right now. That can be scary, and it can hurt sometimes. I had to give up something I wanted very much to become the person I am today, Reiko, but I wouldn’t trade it back. I love Akane and Nabiki more than anything else in the world. I’ve found a lot of meaning in being their anchor. And you can find meaning on your own terms, too. It doesn’t have to be something that your father decides for you.”

Ranma didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know what he wanted it to mean for him, or if he wanted it to mean anything at all. Could he really just… accept living like this? Could he make a life for himself as a girl that he was happy about?

“You think so?” Ranma asked eventually, swirling the little spoon around in the cup of ice cream. “I don’t know if I have anything I like, besides martial arts.”

Kasumi gave him another one of those smiles that he didn’t understand, and then reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “Of course you will, Reiko. It’ll just take some time for you to figure it out.”

Ranma nodded, feeling heat coming to his face again, and finished his ice cream.

“So, Reiko, do you feel like tackling clothes today, or should we head back to the dojo?” Kasumi asked once she, too, had finished her ice cream.

“Let’s… get it over with?” Ranma said.

When they entered the department store for a second time, Ranma still felt awkward and completely out of place, but something about Kasumi’s pep-talk had taken the fear out of the situation. Well, not all of the fear, he realized as Kasumi led him to a section of the store that was entirely dedicated to bras.

With an embarrassed flush to his cheeks, he tried his best not to look at any of them.

“See anything you like?” Kasumi asked.

Ranma squeaked. He’d deny it if anyone asked about it. He shook his head frantically.

“It helps if you actually look, Reiko,” Kasumi said with a laugh.

“I— I have no idea where to start,” Ranma said.

“Just look and see if any of the colors are appealing. We’ll need to get you measured so we can get something that actually fits. I’ll be right back.” Kasumi headed off and left Ranma to peruse… bras… alone.

He swallowed the lump of nerves in his throat.

This was gonna be the death of him.

He had no idea what any of the words describing the bras actually meant in context. What on earth was the difference between a push-up bra with and without an underwire? And he thought some of the words described the styles, maybe, but he wasn’t sure. 

It’s like an entirely foreign language. I didn’t want to learn how to speak girl, I wanted to learn how to speak Mandarin!

Before he could spiral any further, Kasumi returned with a clerk from the store. “As I was saying, this is Reiko, and she’s gone through a bit of a growth spurt recently. She needs to be measured for some new bras.”

“Uh, hi?” Ranma said.

The clerk nodded and motioned for him to follow. “Come on, then, into the dressing room with you. This won’t take but a minute.”

Ranma did as he was bade.

“Shirt off,” the clerk said.

“What!?” Ranma sputtered.

“I can’t measure your chest accurately  if you’re wearing that shirt.”

That made sense, he supposed. “Oh, right, sorry.”

Ranma pulled the top over his head, and stood awkwardly in front of the attendant. Her hands were cold as she wrapped the measuring tape around his chest and took his measurements. It was, blessedly, an impersonal interaction. She wrote down the measurements on a pad of paper she had brought with her, and handed it to him. “That’s your size. Have fun, dear!”

And then she was gone, and Ranma was hurriedly pulling his shirt back on.

“Here,” he said awkwardly to Kasumi, shoving the paper her way. 

She took it and glanced down at it. “Okay, come on. Your size will be this way.”

She took him a few racks over, to peruse a section of bras that would fit appropriately. “If anything stands out, let me know, you should pick something you like.”

Ranma shook his head emphatically. “I don’t know what I’m even looking at!”

“Well, if it were up to me, knowing that I’d be starting school, I’d stick to neutral bras that can be worn with anything. A nude one for sure, and maybe a white or black one. The nude and white ones you can wear with your school uniform.” She gestured to a few different kinds of bras. “And then of course, we’ll need to make sure it has the right kind of support for you.”

“Right kind of support?” Ranma asked.

“Forgive me for being forward, but you’re rather blessed, Reiko. So a bra for you will probably make walking around a lot more comfortable. What we need to do is make sure the bra is comfortable, too.” She started pulling a few different styles of bra off the rack and handing them to him.

“Start with these. They’re all the same color, but if you find that you prefer how one of them feels over the others, we can get that style in multiple colors.”

Ranma blushed furiously, but nodded and hurried away from Kasumi and back towards the dressing room before she could explain anything more about bras. It was way, way too much information. 

He tried and failed three times to get the damn thing on, before swearing and tossing the bra at his reflection in the mirror of the small changing room. 

“Reiko, are you okay?” Kasumi’s voice carried through the door.

Ranma hung his head. “... Yeah.”

“Do you need help, sweetie?” 

‘Men do not need help.’

‘Men do not admit weakness.’

Ranma sighed. 

Well, pop, men don’t have boobs.

“Yeah, Kasumi.” He opened the door. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Sorry.” He felt that sense of shame flare up in him again and tried, unsuccessfully, to push the feeling away. When it did not abate, he looked anywhere but at Kasumi.

“No need to be embarrassed. I needed help my first time, too.” She took the bra and put it around his torso. “If you hook the bra on this side, you can see what you’re doing, and then you can just spin it around like this, see?” Once it was on, she helped him put his arms through the straps and shimmy the bra into place. He felt awkward about it, but couldn’t deny just how much better it felt to have the weight of his chest supported better.

Ranma’s eyes went wide. “Of course! That makes so much sense.”

“Now, let’s get these straps comfortable for you.” She turned him around and adjusted the shoulder straps. “How’s that feel?”

Ranma shrugged his shoulders, experimenting with the feel of the bra. He hopped up and down, and to his joy, landed without the discomfort he’d been adjusting to. “Woah!”

“I’m glad you like it. Now let’s try the rest of these on, so you can pick your favorites.”

With Kasumi’s help, trying on the rest of the bras went quickly, and Ranma found that despite the additional discomfort, he preferred the support granted by the metal wire when compared to bras without. When it came to the style of bra, he was lost, and let Kasumi decide his fate. Before moving onto a different section of the store, Kasumi made him grab a selection of sports bras. “For when you’re training,” she had said.

Underwear had been marginally less embarrassing, even if he didn’t ever want to find out the difference between the different cuts. At least here, he could just grab a few pairs and move on, which Kasumi seemed happy enough to let him do.

As Kasumi led him to a section of clothes for casual daywear, Ranma wondered what his father would say about him shopping for bras and panties. None of his imagined conversations with his father were pleasant, and he tried to keep the less than polite words from breaking his nerve before the shopping trip was over.

“You should choose at least a couple of outfits that aren’t hand-me-downs, Reiko,” Kasumi said, stopping in front of a mannequin wearing a dress that was part of the store’s Springtime Collection.

He balked at the idea of the dress. It would be so feminine.

Your uniform’s a dress, too, dumbass.

And there was that. He’d be wearing a dress to school throughout the week. Every week. For the foreseeable future.

“Would you mind helping me pick something out? I’ve never…”

That look that Ranma didn’t really understand crossed Kasumi’s face again. “Of course I will.”

The three shirts that they chose together, one white, one pink, and one powder blue, were easy enough to decide on. Next were the jeans, which were again easy enough to choose. And then Kasumi handed him a pleated yellow skirt. 

He stammered excuses even as he let himself be guided towards the dressing room with the skirt, jeans, and shirts. 

The jeans, which most definitely fit him more comfortably than the ones he’d borrowed, didn’t have much give and he doubted he’d be able to fight in them. He tried to observe how they fit in the mirror. They hugged his legs a lot tighter than he was used to, as if they were tailored to show off the curves of his feminine form. 

He tried to make it look more casual by sliding a hand into his pocket, only to find that the pocket was unbelievably shallow.

What’s even the point of putting a pocket here if I can’t get my damn hand into it?!

With a scoff, he moved onto the shirts. They fit well enough, he decided as he looked at himself in the dressing room mirror. He wasn’t sure if he really liked them, though. The person in the mirror was not him. Whoever she was, he didn’t know how she was supposed to dress.

He looked at the last article of clothing.

Probably best if I just say I didn’t like the skirt. He didn’t even want to try it on.

But he knew he’d be able to move around freely in a skirt. It’d be less restrictive than the jeans. With a groan he pulled off the jeans and put on the skirt, trying to really take in the person in the mirror. She was a stranger, and at the same time, she was who the world saw.

Ranma Saotome didn’t really exist right now.

The skirt swished into place and he turned around, keeping his eyes on his reflection. The skirt flared out around him as he spun, material swishing playfully around his legs before falling back into place.

For the first time since he’d changed, Ranma saw a person in the mirror instead of a curse.

He didn’t know her, but she was smiling down at the skirt that was still settling around her legs.

She didn’t look so scary to him in that moment.

When she looked up into his eyes, she smiled at him and giggled.

“It’s swishy,” she said. Ranma couldn’t help but agree. The skirt was swishy.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

The next morning came with no small amount of butterflies as Ranma dressed for school. 

He’d studiously avoided any more girly activities after giggling over a skirt in a department store like an idiot, and managed to get home with no further incident. He’d deposited his new clothes in his room, and made his way to the dojo to work through his confusion and frustration posthaste. It had felt good to just let all of the days troubles become imaginary foes ans he flowed through his kata, sweating and releasing whatever tension he could.

It had lasted until Akane had come to join him, and then he’d become an awkward stuttering mess mess trying to talk to her about his day because: one, it had been a fucking weird day, and two, pretty girl.

She had kindly relented and let their focus turn back to martial arts. Ranma had gone over the gap in her stance again, and then they’d sparred until dinner time. That part had been nice. It was comfortable, it was easy. He and Akane were a good training pair. She was kind and polite and had more raw talent than he ever had, even if she hadn’t been given the proper instruction. She picked up things quick as a whip.

After sparring and dinner had come another awkward avoidance of the bathroom with Akane. The upside was that this time he hadn’t cried himself to sleep, and he’d actually managed to wash up when she was done.

And now he was standing in his underthings, glaring at the school uniform he was supposed to put on. He really, really didn’t want to wear a fucking dress. But what choice did he have, really? Kasumi had literally gone out of her way to hem her old uniform so that it would fit him until the ones they’d ordered arrived.

It was another one of those ‘these people are too nice’ things that Ranma didn’t know how to respond to. And what was more, she’d seemed so happy to do it.

He sighed and crossed his arms. The whole situation was ridiculous.

A gentle knocking at his door derailed his disastrous train of thought. “You about ready, Reiko?

With a sigh, Ranma grabbed the stupid school uniform and dressed himself. “Yeah, Akane. Be out in just a sec.”

“I’ll be at breakfast,” she said through the door.

“‘Kay.”

And then Ranma was left to straighten the fabric of his uniform so that it fell comfortably about his frame. When he thought he had it right, he peeked at his reflection in the mirror attached to the wardrobe door. 

The girl that stood there in her uniform looked as nervous as he felt, but at least the damn thing fit her okay. He tugged at the short sleeves of the white blouse of the uniform. There was a long sleeved variant for cold weather and an overcoat he could wear if he wanted, but it was springtime, and certainly warm enough without the extra layers.

“Well, do a good job in school, I guess,” he told his reflection.

She nodded at him.

He turned towards the door and steeled himself. “This is it, gotta pretend I’m not a complete fucking fraud for a whole day in public.” 

Downstairs, Kasumi, Nabiki, Akane, and Soun were all at the table, eating breakfast. 

“Oh, well don’t you look nice!” Kasumi greeted him, and gestured for him to join them at the table. “I’m so glad it fits you okay.”

“The uniform color goes nice with your hair,” Akane agreed as she set her now empty bowl on the table.

Ranma flushed. “I, er, thanks.” He took his seat and ate quietly, studiously avoiding looking at anyone.

“I’m outta here,” Nabiki said, getting to her feet. “Thanks for breakfast, sis.”

“It’s no trouble, Nabiki. Have a great day at school!” Kasumi waved her sister off while Ranma finished his breakfast. When he set his chopsticks down, Akane stood up.

“We should go. Don’t want you to be late on your first day,” Akane offered her hand to him.

He took it and let her pull him to his feet. They headed for the front door to put on their shoes. Just as Akane was opening the door, Kasumi tapped Ranma on the shoulder. He turned around to find her holding a book bag.

“You should take this,” she said with that ever-present smile. “It was mine, but I don’t really have a use for it right now. It’s got paper and pens and everything you’ll need to have a great first day!”

Ranma felt that gnawing pit of guilt trying to consume him again, but he focused on the kindness of the woman in front of him. “Thank you, Kasumi. I promise to try my best.”

Their walk to school was mostly sedate, and Ranma held Kasumi’s book bag with reverence as he walked along beside Akane. They turned a corner and started walking along a river in companionable silence. 

“Hey, uh, Reiko?” Akane asked.

“Yeah?” Ranma looked up from examining the book bag.

“Just— Just so you know. Going to school gets a little… well, crazy. For me, at least.” Ranma thought that the color in Akane’s cheeks was captivating, but he tried not to stare.

“Whaddya mean?” He asked.

“I think it’s better if you see for yourself,” Akane said as the school building came into view. “Just don’t get involved. I don’t want you getting hurt on my account.”

“Hurt? Akane, what are you talking about?” She didn’t answer him, instead she just gestured to the crowd forming inside the gates to the school grounds.

“Hold my bag?” Akane asked him as they got close.

“Sure?” Ramna said, taking her bag as she stalked ahead of him, fists clenched.

To say that he was taken aback by what came next was a gross understatement. Every single person in the crowd gathered by the gates started declaring their love for Akane, and then they attacked her.

What the fuck is this? Ranma thought as he watched them swarm.

Akane was not deterred, however; with a lithe grace and practiced ease, she moved through the crowd, striking out and dispatching each of her would-be suitors with quick strikes. Most fell to the ground with the wind knocked out of them, or clutching tweaked wrists and ankles. 

It was impressive, sure. Taking on that many opponents at once was a feat that very few people the world over could claim to have done successfully, regardless of their training. But more than that, it was also breathtaking. 

Ranma watched, mouth agape and cheeks flushed as Akane, goddess of war, took to the field of battle and won victory after victory. She was beautiful. Warmth pooled in his stomach as he watched her move, and he found that he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Not that’d anything would ever come of it. She was a girl, he was a girl, and they were friends. And he was definitely, most certainly, not ever going to tell anyone that he was smitten with her.

Was it even normal to have such a huge crush on someone you just met? 

When the fighting was nearly done, and Akane was dealing with the few boys that actually knew their way around a schoolyard brawl, Ranma stepped past the gate’s threshold. He was content to watch, if a little envious at the lack of a chance to try fighting them all himself. 

“That was awesome, Akane,” he said with a grin plastered on his face. “No wonder you’re so good at martial arts. Fighting all these guys every morning.”

“Well, it was actually easier today and yesterday than it has been,” Akane said, turning to him with a bright smile. “That thing you showed me with my stance being a little too forward. I don’t have to block quite so much now.”

“You picked it up enough to use in a real fight in just one day?” Ranma asked incredulously. 

“What can I say?” Akane said with a giggle. “I have a good teacher.”

Ranma blushed, his stomach doing a weird flip-flop that was decidedly not related to the guilt or shame he’d been wrestling with since he’d arrived at the Tendo Dojo.

“Y-you’re a natural, is all,” Ranma said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

“Thanks, Reiko! Sorry you had to see this on your first day. This whole group of guys is so annoying.” Akane reached out to take her bag.

“Honestly,” a new voice said. “They’re so unsophisticated.” A tall boy in a kendo keikogi and hakama approached them, bokken in hand.

Ranma had a bad feeling about him. Unlike the other boys that had attacked Akane, this one knew what he was doing. He had training.

“It appears that their continued attempts to defeat you are in the continued hope that they will have the chance to ask for your hand,” the boy said as he produced a rose from, well, somewhere.

Akane glowered at the boy. “Yes, I’m well aware, Kuno,” she said with a long suffering sigh. She seemed remarkably unimpressed by him, something Ranma found himself infinitely grateful for. Mostly because he wanted Akane to find him interesting, not some jerkoff in a kendo outfit, but also because it meant that she wasn’t intimidated by him. 

Had she fought the guy before? Was he part of that mob from earlier?

“The first bell will ring soon,” he said, and he flicked the rose to Akane, who snatched it out of the air and looked at it with unimpressed disinterest. Ranma glared at the boy. “Allow me to challenge you beforehand."

Why wouldn’t he just shut up? Couldn’t he see that Akane didn’t want him to be all weird?

Not that he had any room to talk, he was pretending to be a girl— something that was destined to backfire spectacularly on him at some point. And what was more, the last time he’d been to school he’d gotten into fights and brawls all the time. He sagely kept his hands at his sides, no matter how much he wanted to thrash the kid with his own kendo stick.

“Do all the boys come out and act like this every day?” Ranma asked her.

Akane nodded. “Yep.”

“And you kick the shit out of them five days a week?” Ranma prodded.

“Sure do,” Akane confirmed, tossing the rose to the ground.

“Why do they do it?” Ranma asked.

“Because, this idiot,” Akane seethed, jabbing a finger to the boy in the kendo outfit and snarling. “This idiot told them that I could be taken out on a date by anyone who was strong enough to defeat me.” She changed her stance, facing the boy. Ranma could feel her ready to spring into action. She didn’t. Instead, she stepped between Ranma and the boy with the wooden sword. “Stay out of this, Reiko, or you’ll get hurt.”

“Who is this new maiden, who is so familiar with you, Akane my love? Has she, too, heard tales of my chivalry and devilish good looks?” Kuno pointed at Ranma with his bokken.

“Me?” Ranma asked, blanching. “Name’s Ran—Reiko. Reiko Saotome.” He’d get it right without stumbling over his name eventually. 

He stepped up beside Akane, facing Kuno. He really wanted to shove that stick right up his—

“How rude of me to ask your name without introducing myself first! It is proper etiquette for me to state my own name before asking the names of others, especially beautiful young maidens.” He bowed to him. Fucking bowed. “I am Tatewaki Kuno from Class 2-E, Captain of the Kendo Club, undefeated champion, and rising star of the high school kendo world.”

High school kendo what?

Ranma raised an eyebrow. The dude was insane.

“But to many, I am known as Blue Thunder!”

Ranma tried. He really did. He couldn’t help himself though. He laughed. In his cursed form it came out as a tinkling giggle and he tried desperately to stifle it. “Blue thunder!” He wheezed. Why anyone took the guy seriously was beyond him, but it was too much. He’d come to school early enough to change into his club uniform, grabbed his practice sword, and marched out in front of the school with no shoes on.

Akane sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand. “Kuno, nobody calls you that.”

He seemed generally annoyed at how not-seriously he was being taken. “It is a name all will learn to fear and respect,” he said.

“I doubt it,” Ranma said, flippantly as his giggling subsided. “You and everyone else here gets their ass kicked by Akane every morning. Not a lot to take seriously.”

The boy, Kuno, growled in irritation. 

As if sensing something bad were about to occur, Akane huffed and raised her fists. “Shall we? I’d like to get to class.”

His eyes snapped from Ranma to Akane, and for a moment he was silent before he spoke. “Very well. Today is the day I claim you as my woman.” He raised his sword.

“Couldn’t he have at least tried to phrase that better?” Ranma muttered under his breath as he stepped back from the impending slug-fest.

“Yo, Reiko! You should come inside!” Ranma blinked and looked up to see Nabiki waving at him from a walkway on the second floor of the building. He waved back at her and shook his head. He knew, knew that Akane was going to win the fight, but he wanted to be close by just in case she needed help. There was… something about Kuno that he really didn’t like.

With a flash of movement, Kuno lunged at Akane, who slid away from the thrusting strike of his bokken. Dust kicked up around her feet as she skidded backwards to avoid the strikes. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she sized up her opponent.

Kuno was relentless with his strikes, trying to score a blow against her with each step forward. The bokken whipped towards her almost faster than the eye could see, but Akane moved away from it with such casual ease that Ranma was certain she could track it no matter how fast Kuno swung.

After a flurry of strikes, Akane caught the bokken with her foot and Kuno overextended his stance. She grabbed his wrist.

With a grunt of pain, he forced Akane away and redoubled his attacks.

Akane, for all her grace and talent for fighting, was giving ground. Ranma watched, head tilted to one side as she stepped backwards away from his strikes. She’s stepping too heavily. When she’d been better able to keep her footing, she’d done better at using her flexibility to keep Kuno at bay. He watched with a grimace as the bokken glanced off her arm when Kuno swiped at her from one side.

If the face Akane made was any indication, even that small contact probably hurt like hell. 

But Akane was aware of her shortcoming when it came to her footwork, and used the opportunity of the wooden sword finally being close enough to snatch it in one hand and drag Kuno’s face right into her waiting fist.

There was a soft crunch, and Kuno grunted with pain as he dropped to his knees. The bokken clattered to the ground and Akane stood over the boy. “Yield.”

Kuno wiped at his split lip and nodded. “Tomorrow, perhaps I shall fare better.” And then he was on his feet and heading into the school.

Ranma watched him go with narrowed eyes. He’d been holding back. 

Why, though? He went to all the trouble of fighting her to take her on a date.

It didn’t make sense.

Something was really off about that guy. After all his bluster and chauvinism, he just nodded and walked away? Ranma doubted it was that simple.

“Everything okay, Reiko?” Akane asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

Ranma blinked, startled. “Oh, uh, yeah. Just thinking.” He grinned and handed Akane her school bag. 

“What about?” Akane asked as she led him into the building.

“Footwork!” Ranma said, perhaps a little too quickly. “I think I can show you something that will keep his sword off your arm next time. Are you okay, by the way?”

Akane looked from Ranma to her rapidly bruising arm. “Oh, yeah. I guess Kuno does manage to get a few licks in from time to time.”

“So, nurse?” Ranma asked as he looked around the giant front door. 

“Nah,” Akane waved him off. “You need to go to the front office and get your class schedule and locker code so you can change shoes.” 

And that was that, because Akane dragged him through the halls to the administrative office and made sure he was all set for the day. Which, blessedly, was not a long ordeal. He got his student ID, combinations for a shoe locker and a locker for his books, and was told to follow Akane to her homeroom.

It was a relief to him that they'd been placed together, because he had no idea how far behind he’d be, nor did he know how to make friends with girls. It wasn’t like they’d all just offer to be his friend. There was no way that everyone was going to be as nice as Akane or the other Tendos.

Not ten minutes later Ranma was paraded to the front of the room to be introduced as the newest member of class 1-F. The homeroom teacher, an older gentleman who introduced himself to Ranma as Mr. Kimura, asked for everyone to take their seats, and then allowed Ranma to introduce himself to the class.

With trembling hands, he turned to face his class, that clawing nervousness roared back to life as he glanced at the assembled students. He wanted to run away and hide.

His eyes found Akane and she smiled at him and nodded.

“H-hello. My name is… Ran—Reiko Saotome.” He bowed to his classmates. “Please help me have a great first day!”

And then he all but ran to his seat before his legs gave out from underneath him.

This was it. School. As a girl.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine

The class shuffled their seating arrangements to make room for a new desk to accommodate Ranma. He’d been assigned a seat right beside Akane, which meant that he’d at least have someone to talk to on his first day.  Mr. Kimura had tasked Akane with making sure he got around to all of his classes while he got settled in, to which Akane had muttered, “Not like I was gonna let her get lost or anything.”

And with that, the class settled in, and Ranma tried not to listen to any of their peers whisper to themselves as they sized her up.

“She’s so pretty!”

“Is her hair naturally red?”

“Daisuke, you should totally ask her out.”

“Emi, do you think she’s got any interest in joining our club?”

“For a hot chick, she seems pretty nervous.”

He did his best to drown it out and focus on Mr. Kimura as he went over what their class would be doing at school throughout the week. Most of it was pretty familiar. When he’d last been to school, homeroom was much the same, with the glaring exception that he had been a boy in an all boys school instead of a girl in a co-ed school.

Once their morning homeroom session ended, life became hell.

He was in way, way over his head.

He hadn’t been to school in over a year.

His stupid fucking father had declared that a formal education was not as important as martial arts.

Only, it seemed pretty fucking important now.

It very quickly became apparent that Ranma was going to flunk out of school within the week. Nothing anybody said at any point made enough sense for him to wrap his head around what was happening. He knew his education had been spotty at best, but he was actually taken aback by just how far behind he was.

He’d made it through the first block okay, it was just history. He could fucking take notes. Not that he’d previously known a single thing that was discussed. At least there was a textbook that he could read later. 

He’d tried to write down every single thing that their teacher had said aloud, and his messy chicken scratch notes covered several pages of a notebook that Kasumi had been kind enough to place in his bag.

“You okay?” Akane asked him during the first ten minute break between periods. “I’ve never seen anyone take so many notes. Mr. Takakura usually teaches pretty close to the textbook.”

Ranma blushed, but nodded. “I’m okay. Just… don’t want to fall behind. Thanks for letting me know.”

Akane smiled at him and he had to remind himself to breathe. “You should take lots of notes in our math class, though. Those are always helpful.”

Ranma nodded. “Right.”

When the period rotated and math began, Ranma wanted to cry.

He was staring at the fucking gibberish on the blackboard. Why were there letters mixed in with the numbers? Why were they English letters? What was fucking going on? This wasn’t math, this was conspiracy theory.

The last time he’d taken a math class it hadn’t been anything like this.

He scribbled away as best he could, knowing that if he could reference the material back later, he might stand a chance. Or he could beg Akane to take mercy on him and kill him the next time they sparred in the dojo.

Ranma liked the second idea better.

When the third hour of classes began, Ranma felt like the cramps in his hand would never go away. He sat dejectedly at his desk and flexed his fingers while he wished that he knew anything else about math.

Akane was talking to two other girls in the class, who occasionally glanced over his way and giggled. They were just far enough away that he couldn’t hear them, but he could imagine that they were talking about how weird the new kid was.

He eyed them for a while, trying to figure out what they wanted with looking at him.

One of the girls was talking animatedly with her hands. She was a little bit taller than Akane and had her long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. The other girl, who was the shortest of the three, was nodding along as she spoke.

When the next period was due to start, Akane returned to her seat. “Sayuri and Yuka want to meet you at lunch, if that’s okay,” she said as she pulled out her English textbook.

Ranma blinked. “They what?” 

“They want to meet you. I told them you were staying with us at the dojo.” Akane flipped her pencil around in her fingers. 

Panic swelled in his chest. Nobody was supposed to know he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Why would she do that? “You told them I’m a homeless kid?” Ranma hissed quietly to her.

Akane gave him a funny look. “No, silly. I told them you were a family friend that was staying with us.” Ranma narrowed his eyes at her. “They’re my friends, Reiko. I wanted to introduce you. They’re nice.” When Ranma didn’t react how she wanted, Akane huffed. “I’m not going to force you, Reiko. I just thought you might like to make some more friends.”

“Why would they want to be friends with me?” Ranma asked her. “I’m—”

He was cut off from his very self-destructive train of thought when their English teacher entered the room. Akane gave him a weird look as class got started, and Ranma wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

When the lunch bell rang, Ranma thought his head was going to split open. He’d never actually bothered to learn English before, so he had absolutely no frame of reference for the language. And it didn’t make any sense anyway. English was a nonsense language, even an idiot could see that. 

As the students bustled about, some leaving the room, others pushing desks together, Ranma rubbed his temples and groaned. He was gonna fail out of school. It was too hard. He hated it. With a long sigh he closed his eyes and hung his head, wishing the day could just be over.

“Reiko?” Akane asked him.

He looked up to see Akane standing with her two friends, all of them were just staring at him. He flushed.

“Uh, hi?” Ranma tried not to wince at how lame he sounded.

“These are my friends Yuka and Sayuri.”

Yuka was on Akane’s right shoulder, and Sayuri on Akane’s left. Both of them gave him bright smiles and friendly waves. 

He stood up and waved back, feeling very out of place. What the hell was he supposed to do? “It’s, uhm, nice to meet you?” It sounded lame to him, and he decided that maybe it’d be best if he just sat down.

He got about halfway back to his seat before Akane hooked her arm under his elbow and dragged him upright. “Oh no you don’t. Come on, we’re going to eat lunch outside.”

Ranma’s eyes went wide. She was really too nice for her own good. He pulled his elbow away from her grip and tried to put on a bright smile. “It’s fine, Akane. You don’t have to take pity on me. I’ll be okay. ‘Sides, I don’t have anything to eat.”

“First of all,” Akane said, scowling. “I’m not taking pity on you. You’re my friend, so you’re coming to eat lunch with us.” She starting pushing him to the door. “Second, of course you have lunch. Kasumi made us both a bento this morning. Yours is in my bag.”

He fell silent at that, and let himself be marched out of the classroom and down the hall. That gnawing feeling came back, and his breathing became shallow. He tried to keep the feeling locked down and just let Akane drag him outside. He tried to just be normal.

But he wasn’t.

And he didn’t understand.

Why would Kasumi pack him a lunch? He was already freeloading. He was already disrupting her life and making her go out and run errands to get him enrolled in school. 

Why did Akane want to spend more time with him than she had to? It made sense at the dojo. She was a martial artist and he could teach her. She could get something out of spending time with him at the dojo.

He couldn’t help her at school. He couldn’t even help himself at school. If he wanted to have even a small chance of making a decent grade, he’d have to ask for help from someone. And that would make sense, too, because he would have to pay a tutor for their time. They would get something out of helping him.

So why would Akane bring him outside with her real friends for lunch? 

As they passed the threshold of the building and stepped into the sunlight, Ranma desperately swiped the tears at the corners of his eyes so that nobody would see him fall apart. Men did not cry, he reminded himself. Men were not blubbering idiots who cried all the damn time.

If his father could see how pathetic he was, he’d be so bruised up that he’d limp for a week. 

I’d deserve it, too.

Akane sat him underneath a tree on the edge of the high school grounds and then handed him a neatly wrapped bento box from her school bag. She sat on his right, close enough that their shoulders would brush if he shifted his weight, and pulled her own bento into her lap.

Yuka and Sayuri sat across from them.

There was an uncomfortable silence as the three girls opened their lunches and started to eat. Well, it probably wasn’t that uncomfortable, really. But it was to him. It gave him time to look at the neatly wrapped package and think.

The small box was how he might have imagined a lunch box as a kid. It was wrapped in a blue cloth and tied in a neat little knot at the top. The only creases in the cloth were at the corners, where they’d been folded so expertly that it could have been put on display at a shop. 

It was the kind of thing that a person might do for their kid, not a vagabond martial artist who was trying to get by in life as a girl instead of just telling the damn truth.

“You gonna eat?” Akane asked him.

Ranma nearly dropped the bento. “Y-yeah.”

“So tell us about yourself,” one of the girls, Sayuri, he thought, asked him as he carefully undid the knot in the bento. 

He looked up at her, confused. “Whaddya mean?”

Yuka giggled into her hand.

“Where are you from? What do you like to do? That kind of stuff,” Sayuri said.

“O-oh.” Ramna blushed. “I don’t know where I’m from. Dad made me move around a lot as a kid. I haven’t been home since I was really little. He never talked about it much.” He opened the lid to his bento, eyes fixed on the small box so he wouldn’t have to look at anybody. “I like martial arts.”

It was Sayuri’s turn to giggle, and Yuka wasn’t far behind. “Oh Akane, she’s perfect for you!” She hid her sniggers behind a hand. “I like martial arts,” she repeated.

Ranma didn’t know if his face could get any redder. As it was, he tried to make himself disappear into the tree trunk. 

“Be nice!” Akane said. “Reiko is great at martial arts.”

“Really?” Yuka asked.

“She sure is,” Akane said. “Better than me, anyway.”

“Is she really?” Sayuri asked, excited. “That’s impressive.”

“She can help you fight off all the boys in the morning!” Yuka said.

Akane shook her head. “It’s not Reiko’s problem, you know. I can deal with those idiots.”

More giggles followed, and Ranma was happy to just listen. The conversation wasn’t really directed his way anymore, and that suited him just fine. Instead he stared in awe down at the little lunch box in his lap. There were vegetables, and little pieces of beef. There was rice and a little stack of cookies.

He fished the chopsticks out of the little indent on the box and took them in shaky hands.

His father had never bothered with things like this. It was always just, ‘You’ll figure it out.’ Or, ‘Women pack lunches.’ Or, ‘Hunger makes men stronger.’ It was always hardship and disinterest. It was always barely concealed disdain for him. It was never affirmation and care and enough food not to feel the pangs in his stomach as he exercised day in and day out.

He wiped the corner of his eye.

The first bite was delicious. Everything was so well seasoned. It was, like every meal that Kasumi made, the best food he’d ever tasted.

Please let me get through lunch without crying over the stupid bento.

“What do you like besides martial arts, Reiko?” Sayuri asked. He jumped, startled that he’d been called out again, and nearly choked on his food.

“Oh, uh…” He looked around at each of them. “I don’t really know.” It was true. He’d never been allowed to have superfluous things like hobbies. Every time he’d ever tried to be even remotely interested in something that wasn’t training, training, and more training, he’d been discouraged violently.

“What do you mean ‘you don’t know?’” Yuka asked. “Everyone has more than one thing they like.”

Ranma stared at his shoes. Being in normal society was so embarrassing. He wasn’t like them. He didn’t know how to be like them. What was he going to say to them?

“Reiko?” Akane asked softly. “You okay?”

“‘M’fine,” he said quietly.

“Do you really not have any other interests?” Sayuri asked him.

He sighed. “My dad…” Suddenly not really feeling like eating more than the few bites he’d already taken, he set the bento beside him on the ground. He took a moment to decide what he was going to say, picking at the fabric of his skirt with shaking hands. “My dad didn’t want to have a girl. He wanted a son to take over his martial arts dojo. But he had me, so… I got to study martial arts. He’d get really upset if I asked to do other stuff.”

The giggling that had been so pervasive throughout the lunch period so far was long gone. The sounds of other students enjoying their lunch break were the only sound.

“Oh…” Yuka said.

“That’s not…” Sayuri said.

“Reiko…” Akane whispered.

He looked at the three girls, all of them wore frowns and expressions of… something else on their faces. He didn’t know what it was, precisely, but he’d seen similar looks on his own father’s face often enough to know that whatever it was wasn’t good.

He got to his feet quickly, before he ruined his friendship with Akane.

“I think I’ll go back inside now,” Ranma said. “Sorry for ruining your lunch.”

Lunch had been going well, Akane thought. Yuka and Sayuri had agreed to do their best to help her feel comfortable settling in as their classmate. But that was who Yuka and Sayuri were: kind, caring, open to everyone. A girl really couldn’t ask for better friends.

Lunch had been going well. Until it hadn’t.

Akane watched Reiko as she hurried back into the building with her head down and her shoulders tense. When she’d finished trying to brush off the fact that her father was abusing her, she shut down and ran off. 

It was bad. It was really, really bad.

Just how much had she been through?

The last time Akane had seen her miss a step had been her hesitation to share the bath, but that had seemed so minor. She’d figured it had more to do with discomfort around nudity or something, and that could still be true, she supposed, but she didn’t realize it ran as deep as literally doing nothing but martial arts for her entire life.

“Shit,” Akane said.

“We’re so sorry!” Yuka said. “We were just trying to get her to open up and relax.”

Sayuri nodded, eyes wide with shock and worry. “We thought she was just nervous because it was her first day.”

Akane nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I thought it was mostly that, too.” She looked at her two best friends and gave them a resigned smile. “I knew she’d had it rough, but I think I really underestimated how bad it was.”

Yuka looked like she was about to cry. “Is that why she’s staying at your dojo?”

“I think so,” Akane said. “I’m not really sure. Dad just said she’d be with us for the foreseeable future, and that he used to be friends with Reiko’s dad.” She closed and tied off her mostly empty bento box, and then started cleaning up Reiko’s, which she was alarmed to see was mostly untouched. “When he said we needed to look out for her while she got settled, I didn’t think it was…”

“Does she really not know where she’s from?” Sayuri asked Akane, staring at the front doors to the school. “How does that even happen?”

“I don’t know, Sayuri. I don’t know,” Akane wanted to hit something. Preferably Reiko’s dad.

“I can’t imagine what that kind of life is like,” Yuka whispered, pulling her knees to her chest.

‘My dad didn’t want to have a girl.’

Reiko had said it with such certainty, like it was normal for her father not to want her. Like it was okay that she’d been told that she was wrong just for being born.  Akane’s stomach turned.

She couldn’t imagine her own father saying that to her, or Nabiki, or Kasumi.

She couldn’t imagine anyone saying that to their own child.

It made Akane so angry.

She finished tying the box and stuffed both hers and Reiko’s back into her bag. “I’m gonna go see if I can find her,” Akane said.

“Tell her we’re sorry for pushing,” Sayuri said. “Tell her we’ll make it up to her for—”

Akane was on her feet. “I’ll make sure she knows she can come eat with us again, don’t worry. I’ll make sure she knows it’s not her fault.”

She took off towards the building, and started her search. A big building like this, with as many students as it had, would take forever to search. But Reiko had red hair. She’d have a hard time hiding out in a crowd, which meant she only needed to give a cursory glance at the clumps of students as she checked each room on the first floor.

No classroom, broom closet, or bathroom gave up Reiko’s location, so she made her way to the stairs and started again on the second floor, and then the third.

As it turned out, she was on the roof— alone.

Akane spotted her the second she opened the door.

Reiko stood on the far corner of the roof, looking out over the school grounds and into the surrounding neighborhood. Her posture was stiff, as if she was forcing herself to be still. Akane watched Reiko as she looked out over Nerima, hair gently rustling in the breeze.

Should she let Reiko have the rest of lunch to herself? Should she go and tell her that her dad was a jerk?

She hesitated until Reiko stepped up onto the low wall that surrounded the roof. “Don’t jump!” Akane ran straight for her, adrenaline spiking and panic flooding her veins.

Reiko’s head snapped to her, eyes confused. “I wasn’t gonna?”

Akane stopped at Reiko’s side, grabbing her hand and pulling Reiko down off the edge of the roof. “Then what are you doing up there?”

“I was gonna walk around the ledge. Balancing on stuff helps me think.” Reiko didn’t resist when Akane dragged her to the ground, and sat beside her.

Akane glowered at Reiko. What the hell was she supposed to have thought? “You can do that when you aren’t forty feet off the ground, you know.” 

Reiko looked away from her. “I know. I just didn’t want— I’m sorry.”

“Just don’t scare me like that, okay?” Akane asked.

Reiko nodded once, stiffly.

Akane let herself relax. “Yuka and Sayuri wanted to apologize for making you talk about your dad. We didn’t know.”

Reiko went rigid next to her. “Not their fault. Sorry I ruined lunch for you.”

Akane blinked. Reiko was sorry? She was so closed off, so unwilling to let her in. Akane didn’t know what to say to her. Didn’t know how to let her know that she wasn’t at fault. How could you get through to a person that believed they were wrong just for being? 

“You didn’t. We had a good time with you,” Akane said.

“But I made it weird, and then I ran off. I saw the looks on your faces. I know I messed up.”

Akane shook her head. “No, you didn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Reiko looked at her, eyes searching for something. “I won’t come to lunch next time.”

“Why not?” Akane asked. “We want you there.”

“But I—” Reiko started to say. 

Akane grabbed Reiko’s hand and interrupted her, “No. Just— just listen. You didn’t do anything wrong. We would like for you to join us for lunch again tomorrow. We’ll talk about something like clothes, okay?" Something safe.

“I don’t get you,” Reiko said quietly. “But okay.”

“What's not to get?” Akane asked.

“You’re nice to me, and I have nothing to offer you for it.”

Akane didn’t know what to say to that, but she mulled it over for a long time after the bell rang and called them back to class.

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten

After a rather turbulent lunch break, they returned to their classroom and got back to work for the day.

Reiko was asked by one of the photography club girls if she’d come to their club after school, and while Emi was blabbing about their field trips to see cool landscapes and birds, Akane took her seat.

They had Biology next, and Akane flipped open her notebook. It was probably her best subject, being a martial artist meant knowing a lot about the human body and how such things worked, but her mind wasn’t really focused on class at that moment.

Akane was worried. Worried she’d overstepped, worried that Reiko was hiding a lot more than she let on, worried that her new friend was going to get herself hurt because she was so closed off from the rest of the world. She didn’t know how to demonstrate to her new friend that what she’d gone through was fucked up, that it was wrong. Part of her worried that there was no way to do it— that Reiko was so far down whatever rabbit hole her father had shoved her in that she couldn’t get out of it.

It just wasn’t fair that someone who was so clearly as good as Reiko Saotome had suffered so much. She couldn’t hope to understand it, Akane knew she couldn’t. She had been blessed with a family that wasn’t insane and a stable home life— relatively speaking, anyway. 

But every time something slipped through Reiko’s shy and quiet demeanor, it made Akane sick to her stomach. How could someone have experienced so much wrong at her age? And what was worse, Akane knew that she didn’t know the half of it. Hell, she probably didn’t know the quarter of it.

There was so much hurt in the way Reiko moved and talked and acted— it was clear as day if you were actually looking for it. And Akane was ashamed to admit that she hadn’t been, not at first. But there was so much, and all of it made Akane sick. It was just clue after clue pointing in one direction: Reiko had been abused her entire life.

The way she was about bathing with others.

The way she was constantly stumbling over her own name.

Constantly wiping tears from her eyes.

Constantly apologizing and assuming things were her fault.

Not knowing where she was from.

And perhaps the biggest red flag of all was her skill in martial arts.

It was the only thing Reiko was good at, and she was the best Akane had ever seen. She knew that Reiko could take anyone that challenged her, and she’d more than likely make it look easy while she did it. But to achieve that kind of mastery…

She found it remarkably difficult to focus on class for the rest of the day, as her mind would wander to the girl sitting beside her, red hair covering her eyes as she leaned over the desk and furiously scribbled notes in a messy scrawl.

It was clear that Reiko wanted to do well, but from the way she frantically tried to write down every little thing that was said by their instructors or written on the blackboard, it was clear that she was worried about her education— or presumably her lack of education.

It was another thing to add to the pile. Her jerkoff dad probably hadn’t let her go to school. 

What would Kasumi do?

How can I help?

She didn’t know. Wasn’t really sure if there was anything she could do. She was the same age as Reiko, not an adult with resources. All Akane could really do was be her friend. And she wanted to do that, anyway. Akane liked Reiko. Reiko was the first girl that could do what she could, and who didn’t judge her for her hobbies and interests.

The Reiko who was an expert martial artist was who Akane had aspired to be.

Reiko understood those parts of Akane, and respected them. And Akane understood those parts of Reiko. It brought them together in a common interest. Something she’d never shared with a girl her age.

When Reiko was in her element, in the dojo, when they were sparring or practicing something, she was so cool. That was the Reiko that Akane wanted to sit next to in class, the one who knew she was a badass, who could handle anything. But as soon as they left the dojo, that version of Reiko retreated into her shell and the one that was shy and unsure and trying not to show her hurt was there, looking like a lost puppy.

There had to be something, some way to cut through the bullshit and have a real conversation with Reiko. But she’d only known the girl for a few days, and there probably just wasn’t enough trust yet. 

It would take time, and they’d have to help her out bit by bit until she came to them.

Akane glanced up at the clock, the period was almost over and she’d spent the entire time doing anything but focus on her school work.

And so, when Mrs.Tsuchiya asked her a question, Akane started. She blinked several times, staring at the blackboard and then down to her decidedly blank notebook. She hadn’t taken a single note. 

“Uh….” Akane said. “Mitochondria?”

The class broke into laughter, and Akane blushed. They weren’t talking about cells today, but that was fine. She could read the book at home and figure out what she’d missed. 

Reiko was giving her a concerned look. She wanted to tell Reiko not to worry about her. Everyone was caught daydreaming from time to time, it was part of going to school. Besides, Reiko needed to focus on herself. On finding someone to open up to.

But that was a problem for another time, because Akane was sent to stand in the hall, where she was free to continue worrying about her friend.

“Maybe she’ll do better when we’re back home,” Akane whispered to herself.

Maybe.

When he returned to class after lunch, he resolved himself to keep a firm lid on any of his wayward emotions. Men did not show such weakness. Men did not cry. Men did not run away when they were upset. 

He took a seat at his desk and drew in a single breath to steady himself. The constant feeling of dread that followed him around like a cloud had gotten to him again. He needed to figure out how to deal with it. How to get his shit together and learn how to pretend to be a normal fucking girl.

He was just getting ready for another arduous hour of notetaking, when someone stepped up to his desk. Ranma looked up to see a girl smiling down at him.

“I’m Emi Itou! It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

What is it with people in this town? Ranma wondered. How were they so fucking cheery?

“Ran—” he paused, raking a deep breath. He had to get that under control. He wasn’t Ranma right now. “Reiko Saotome. It’s nice to meet you, too?” He wasn’t sure what else to say.

She pulled a chair to his desk and sat down. “I was hoping to invite you to my club after school today. I’m in the photography club, and we sometimes go out and take photos at different locations in Nerima. It’s fun!”

What was he supposed to say to that?

“I didn’t know there was a photography club,” Ranma eventually decided to say.

Emi smiled, eyes bright. “Oh yeah! There are members from most of the classes here at Furinkan.”

“Is that how clubs normally go?” Ranma asked.

Emi tapped a finger to her chin, considering her answer. “I think so. There are quite a few clubs, and most of them have decent enough membership.”

Ranma nodded, unsure of what to say next. He awkwardly picked at the corner of his notebook.

“I could get you a list? So you can see all of the school clubs.”

“Uh, sure?” Ranma said.

“I’ll have it for you by the end of the day! It was nice to talk to you, Reiko!” And then Emi was skipping back to her own seat towards the front of the class. Skipping!

What on earth had just happened?

When lectures resumed for the day, Ranma did his best to keep up, but it really did feel like he was drowning in information. These classes were like torture, and he found himself deciding he’d punch his dad in the face for keeping him out of school— if he ever saw the old coot again.

Ranma gathered his things after school was out for the day, placing them delicately back into his school bag and closing it. The old, worn leather book bag was in good shape, and he planned on keeping it that way. It wasn’t his bag, and he would take good care of it to show thanks to Kasumi for trusting him with it.

He was still embarrassed by his outburst at lunch, and he’d done his best not to interact with Akane, Sayuri, or Yuka for the rest of the day, instead opting to sit at his desk, take notes, and dread the homework that was going to take him all night to complete. He’d tried to start some of it in the brief moments between class periods, but he’d barely made it through a single math problem.

As the class shuffled off to their club activities, Ranma hesitated. Should he head home, or wait for Akane? He realized he didn’t know if Akane had any club responsibilities to attend to. With a glance around the room, he spotted her talking to Sayuri about something in hushed whispers. Whatever it was, it was private, and he wasn’t supposed to know.

She was busy with her friend.

Nodding to himself, he decided to head out for the day. He was a big kid, he didn’t need Akane to walk him back to the dojo. And besides, forming close friendships would only hinder his ability to become a strong martial artist.

He stepped out into the hallway, and immediately bumped into Emi Itou, who was smiling at him and holding a printed out packet with all sorts of info on it. “Here you are, Reiko! A list of all the clubs and where and when they meet!” She shoved it into his hands.

Emi, overenthusiastic as always, had light brown hair and big green eyes. She’d managed to find him during every break between classes after lunch, not that he’d been hard to find, hunched over his desk as he had been. Emi alternated between offering homework advice and trying to be friendly. Ranma certainly appreciated it, but it was a lot, and he didn’t know what she wanted from him. Well, he did know that she was hoping he’d join the photography club, so at least he kind of got her angle, but she was doing a hell of a lot more than just asking him.

“Uh, thanks, Emi,” Ranma said as he flipped through the pages. There were a surprising number of clubs at Furinkan. Was he expected to choose one? Would he be able to? Clubs were exclusive and probably had membership fees. He’d never ask the Tendos for money to do something as superfluous as club activities.

“Look, you don’t have to join,” Emi said grinning. “But I really would like for you to come to our club today. I can introduce you to everyone!”

Ranma flushed, thrown off, as always, by the kindness of everyone he’d met. He wanted, perhaps more than anything, to go home and just think about what he wanted. About how to repay all of these people. “Oh, uhm— thanks!

“So you’ll come?” Emi asked.

“I don’t own a camera or nothin,’ Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Emi said, waving her hand in dismissal of his concerns. “The club has cameras for the members.” 

“I’m not sure what, uh, Akane— if we have plans.” Why was being a girl so hard? In another life (like a month ago) he would have just told the girl to get lost. That taking pictures didn’t have anything to do with becoming strong, with becoming a man among men. 

Men didn’t have an interest in girly things like photography.

Artsy things were for girls.

He couldn’t do them.

His father wouldn’t allow it.

But my pops isn’t here. And I’m not a boy! I’m… I’m not a boy right now.

“Reiko! There you are. You wanna walk home together?” Akane asked as she sidled into the hallway. Sayuri was walking down the hall, talking animatedly to another girl that Reiko didn’t know the name of, and that left him standing in the slowly emptying hallway with Akane and Emi.

“Emi was asking what club I was thinking of joining,” Ranma said, holding up the little packet of stapled pages to show Akane. “I didn’t know there would be so many.”

Akane examined the pages for a moment, and nodded. “Well you’re welcome to drop in on a club today, if you want. Could be fun!” Emi nodded her agreement, eyes eager.

“Are you in a club?” Ranma asked.

Akane shook her head. “Not yet. I don’t know what I’d do. Most of the kids our age joined whichever clubs they were in in junior high. I just… haven’t picked yet. Besides, it’s early in the year. Plenty of opportunity to choose a club later.”

Ranma digested her words carefully. He didn’t have to pick now. Something Kasumi had told him fluttered through his mind while he glanced back down at the pages before him. “you can find meaning on your own terms.” And maybe, maybe that was true. He just didn’t see the path to it. Not until he figured out how to get rid of his stupid curse.

Then he wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. Wouldn’t have to pretend the boys whispering about him wasn’t annoying— he could just call them out and kick their asses. But the other girls didn’t do that, so he couldn’t either. Wouldn’t have to pretend that the incessant gossiping and giggling didn’t grate on his nerves— he could just spend time with other guys if he decided to stay in school. He wouldn’t have to lie to the people in his life that, despite everything, he actually found himself caring about.

He looked at Emi, really saw her for the first time. She was all cheeriness and sunshine and wide smiles, and she wanted him to go to her club today.

It would eat into his homework time. It would eat into any time he wanted to spend with Akane in the dojo. If he went he probably wouldn’t get to spar or exercise at all before it got too late. It would go against everything he had ever been expected to do in his entire life. It would be a giant middle finger to his father. 

His father, who had forced him to be a certain way, put him in a box and demanded he master every possible martial art in the world. 

Maybe, just this once, he could allow himself a small rebellion and just do something for the sake of doing it. 

Pathetic.

Weak.

Pansy.

Girly.

“I think I will check out the club today.” Emi whooped and jumped for joy, and Akane gave him a soft smile. “I’m not sure I’ll join!” He clarified. But I— I’ll go and see.”

“You know the way home?” Akane asked. “If not, I’ll let Nabiki know and she can meet you out front later.”

“I can find it,” Ranma said. “I promise not to get lost.”

“Well then, have fun! Make friends, okay?” Akane gave him a pat on the shoulder, and then she was heading down the hall in one direction, and Emi was dragging him off in the other direction.

“I’m seriously so excited! You have the prettiest hair I’ve ever seen. It’s like butterflies, or roses!” Emi giggled and Ranma tried to keep his grimace in check as he let her pull him down the corridor. “Is it dyed?”

Ranma shook his head. “No, it’s just what my hair looks like.”

“I. Am. So. Jealous,” Emi said. “It’s seriously amazing. Do you think I could take your picture today?”

Ranma blushed at the compliments, at the attention that he didn’t know what to do with. They were directed his way, but they weren’t for him. They were all praises of a person who didn’t exist— that same person he now interacted with in the mirror when he brushed his teeth or dressed for the day.

He wondered how she felt about all of this.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven

Emi led Ranma to a classroom on the third floor, babbling about the upcoming trip the club had planned to take photos in a more urban setting. “I know it’s not really what you might consider a traditional approach to photography, but finding things in the city that you can use as subjects for taking the pictures is half the fun. I wasn’t there, but Momo took a really neat picture of an old pair of shoes last year. They’re really cool! I bet she’d show you if we asked her. The club keeps a few albums of photos taken over the years. It might be in there.”

It was a lot. A lot of nonsense about a subject Ranma knew nothing about. He said nothing, instead opting to stay silent as he stared at her and nodded along. When she finally slid the door to class 3-B open, Ranma let out a breath in relief.

Inside were a dozen people from various classes and grades that Ranma didn’t know, and Emi happily introduced him to each and everyone one of them. He was polite, if timid, and knew that he would forget each and every one of their names incredibly quickly. Not that he wanted to, of course, but he had a hard enough time with the people in his own class, and he didn’t even know if he wanted to spend time learning about pictures.

But they were nice, and they accepted him with open arms, even if he spent most of their club time awkwardly sitting in the back while they talked about their plans for an outing the next week, and then when another member of their club, who Ranma thought was maybe called Ayame or something, brought in a stack of photos that had been developing.

The club gathered around, and a clamor broke out among them.

“Oh wow! They turned out so good!”

“I really like the one you took, Kenji.”

“Yeah, Kenji, yours is awesome.”

“I dunno. I think miss Emi took quite a nice photo myself.”

“Well that goes without saying.”

“But really just look how this one turned out. The subject is perfectly framed.”

“I like how the lighting is in this one.”

Ranma took a peek, too, curious to see what they were gushing about and fawning over. But, when he finally did see, they were just pictures. Ordinary photographs. None of them seemed particularly special to him, but what did he know? He’d never taken a photograph before. It just looked like photos of pretty flowers, or cool buildings, or people posing. None of them really stood out to him in any meaningful way.

As he stared, brow furrowed, and tried to figure out what made them good or not, Emi poked his arm.

“Do the pictures owe you money or something, Reiko?” 

Ranma gave her a confused look. “Uh, no? I was just… I don’t get it. They just look like pictures to me. Sorry.”

Emi giggled. “That’s okay. It’s not like I expected you to suddenly think the camera angle of a photograph was crucially important on your first visit. Besides, you said you would come and see. And you did. So thanks.”

He blinked. Thanks? The fuck did she mean ‘thanks?’

“I, er, you’re welcome?” Ranma said awkwardly.

Emi pulled him away from the stacks of photographs. “Come on. You don’t have to pretend that you think they’re cool. Nobody’s gonna judge you for it.”

“But I—” Ranma tried to say as he was pulled from the classroom by Emi, who had stopped to grab a camera on her way out the door. “Where are you taking me.”

“Somewhere with better lighting,” Emi said with a wide grin. “It’s a nice day out, and there’s a big tree on the edge of the school grounds with a bench underneath it. This late in the afternoon, there shouldn’t be any shadows on the bench.”

“...Okay.” Ranma said as they made their way outside.

The bench and the tree were… nice? It would be a comfortable place to sit and, like, maybe do homework or something. Did she want to take a picture of it? When she stopped, he did too, awkwardly waiting for her to snap a photo of the bench.

“Well, go on,” Emi prompted, raising the camera and gesturing to the seat.

She wanted him to go and sit down? “Me?” He asked, eyes wide.

“Yes, you!” Emi giggled and gave him a little push. “I want to take a picture of you. The sun is starting to dip below the horizon, so the natural lighting is going to highlight all of the different colors in your hair. You’re gonna glow!”

Ranma turned scarlet. “Glow?”

“Reikooooo!” Emi complained. “Go sit. We only have a couple of minutes.”

He did as she asked, sitting on the bench, and looking at her. “Now what?”

Emi laughed now, raising the camera. “You have to smile, Reiko.”

And he could do that, couldn’t he? He could smile for the girl with the bubbly personality and the sun kissed cheeks who had just decided they were going to hang out today. His lips curved upwards and he did his best to look happy. To his surprise, it was easier than normal. Usually putting on a smile and pretending he was okay was just that: pretending.

But without his father’s constant reminders that he was inadequate, and with Emi’s words of encouragement, he found that smiling for a photograph— even if it was one where he was a girl — was quite easy.

The shutter clicked at least a dozen times, and then, as the sun dipped before the horizon just enough to cast a delicate purple-orange-pink across the sky, Emi lowered the camera. Her lips were parted slightly and her cheeks were flushed and Ranma didn’t have the faintest idea why.

But Emi gave him a thumbs up all the same, and then they were heading back inside and Emi was uncharacteristically quiet. He worried that he’d posed for her photo wrong.

“Sorry I’m such a bad model,” he said as they returned to the club room. It was after six, and most of the members were gone already.

Emi squeaked, as if she’d not expected him to say anything while they walked, and nearly dropped the camera. “It’s not that! Really. You’re perfect.” Emi’s face was bright red, and her eyes went wide. “I didn’t mean that you’re perfect! Well, you might be, I guess. I don’t know. I mean, you’re a perfect model. A natural. You did great.” Realizing she’d been rocketing off short sentences as fast as she could, Emi’s mouth snapped shut. She put the camera away and the two of them headed for the exit once again.

Ranma thought that Emi was weird. Nice, definitely, but weird.

As they exited the gates of Furinkan High School, Emi smiled at him again. “Thanks for coming to the club meeting. I had fun.”

Ranma nodded. “Yeah. It was pretty neat, I guess. I have no idea what you guys talked about.”

Emi giggled. “If you want to come back sometime… we’d all love to have you.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Ranma said. 

And then they’d gone their separate ways, and the reality of the homework that he needed to do crashed down on his shoulders with the weight of several elephants. It was going to be a long, long, long night.

-

Soun looked up as Reiko entered the house. Akane had mentioned that Reiko was sitting in on one of the high school’s clubs after classes, and that made him optimistic that she was settling in comfortably. 

As she passed the sitting room, he waved a greeting to her. “How was your day?”

She stopped walking and turned to face him, looking as if he’d grown several extra heads. “It was… good? I went to school and then to the photography club.” Her voice was quiet, restrained. 

Why was it so?

And then it clicked. She’d never been asked how her day was before. He took a breath to keep his fury from twisting his features, and decided that he would kill Genma Saotome the next time he saw the man. When he had control of himself again, which was less than a second after she’d answered him, Soun smiled at Reiko.

“I’m very happy to hear you’re exploring your interests, Reiko. I had no idea you held an interest in photography.”

She shrugged, rocking on her heels and looking anywhere but at him. “I don’t. Not really. One of the girls in my class is in the club and she invited me to go with her.”

He nodded. At least she was making friends. “That was very kind of her.”

Reiko nodded. “Yeah. She’s nice.”

Sensing that she didn’t want to spend more time being interrogated than was strictly necessary, Soun decided to let her go for now. “Dinner will be ready soon. Kasumi has been busy in the kitchen for the last hour or so. Why don’t you go and get changed into something more comfortable?”

“Yeah, okay,” Reiko said, and headed for the stairs.

He watched her go with a furrowed brow, and then crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Every time he learned more about the girl, and every time he uncovered some part of the mystery of her upbringing, his stomach churned with unease and his muscles tensed with paternal fury.

What on earth had Genma been thinking? What had happened to the man?

Sure, his old friend had never been a paragon of virtue, but he hadn’t been a monster. Something had changed the man for the worse, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. He sighed and scrubbed at his face with his hands before taking a sip of the tea that was on the table beside him.

Reiko needed help, and a lot of it.

If his daughters were to be believed, and they were, he’d raised good children, then Reiko was on edge all the time. He knew she’d broken down in some way or other in front of each of his daughters over the few days she’d stayed with them. He had not seen it himself, but that made sense.

He was a man.

He was a man that was very nearly the same age as Reiko’s father.

If he wanted Reiko’s trust and vulnerability he would have to earn it.

And earn it he would, Soun decided.

It would take time, he knew, but his world had been shaken by the arrival of their guest, and with that disturbance, the sickness of his heart that had taken such a hold of him was beginning to break free.

Getting to his feet with the accompanying groan of a man in his forties, Soun padded into the kitchen, where Kasumi was humming as she made dinner.

He smiled warmly at his oldest, crossing to the countertop where that day’s mail was piled up, and flipped through the envelopes, collecting the bills and separating the rest, a parcel for Nabiki, and a few advertisements, into another pile.

As he opened and took note of monies owed for electricity and payment on the dojo, he nodded. Money was going to be very tight this month. Very tight indeed.

He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to stare at a photograph of his wife. With a sad smile, he ran his fingers over the old, worn picture. 

“Everything okay, father?” Kasumi asked.

Snapping his wallet closed, he smiled at her. “I think that it is, Kasumi.”

And for the first time in a long time, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he actually meant it. Something about the last few days, and the arrival of Reiko, had forced him to confront an ugly truth about himself.

For seven long years he had let his daughters down. Had secluded himself from the world and given up. But if he wanted to prove that he was the better man than Genma, prove that he could shoulder the burden of raising three— make that four, daughters, then it was time for him to be a man. 

And a man provided for his loved ones, after all. A man did not wallow in self-pity and leave his family to suffer. No, a man created a foundation for his children to thrive.

“I was just thinking about your mother,” Soun said, voice thick with emotion. “I can only imagine how much I’ve disappointed her these past few years.” He crossed the kitchen and hugged Kasumi tightly.

“Oh, father,” Kasumi said, setting down the wooden spoon she’d been stirring with, and hugging him back. “Of course you haven’t.”

He laughed, a wet, teary sound. “She wouldn’t like for me to sit holed up at the dojo every day.” He squeezed Kasumi tight and then let her go, holding her at arms length and looking at her, the spitting image of her mother. “You look so much like her, Kasumi.”

Kasumi smiled, eyes glassy with emotion.

“Thanks… daddy.”

He rubbed her shoulders, steeling himself, and then said the name that had not crossed his lips in more than half a decade. “I… miss Akari so terribly.” Kasumi gasped as her tears finally spilled over the edge and slid down her face. “Losing her was a blow that put me on the ground so harshly I did not believe I would ever get to my feet again. But I think I have to.”

When he’d been training as a younger man, his old master had offered him advice after each defeat. And defeat at that age had felt so final, so soul crushing. He’d been so naive. 

‘Martial Arts has nothing to do with how hard you can throw a punch, boy. Being a martial artist is all about how hard you can get punched, and find the strength to get on your own two feet again.’

Perhaps, just perhaps, his master had been wiser than he believed, and maybe Reiko needed to learn that lesson, too.

“You… you said her name!” Kasumi’s voice cracked when she spoke. 

All he could do was nod, because at that moment he didn’t trust his voice, and that was okay. He was going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twelve

Akane yawned and glowered at her homework. It was getting late, but the high school curriculum was so much more intense than the junior high one had been. She’d exercised a bit after dinner, but other than that she’d been holed up in her room silently willing the homework to somehow complete itself. So far, she’d had no luck. The homework stalwartly refused to comply with her wishes, and instead demanded that she sit at her desk and do it herself. It was very rude.

With a groan, Akane dropped her pencil onto the desk, letting it clatter across her notebook while she leaned back and raised her arms over her head to stretch out her stiff back muscles. She’d been here for hours. How was there still more? She’d get it done before she went to sleep, she would, but she needed a break.

Pushing her chair away from the desk, she rose and stood in the center of her room. She bent at the waist and touched her toes, slowly pressing down until her palms were flat on the ground. After a few seconds, she stood back up and did a few squats and jumping jacks. It was refreshing. She’d always hated sitting for really long periods of time, it made her feel restless and stiff and took away her ability to really focus. An hour or two was fine, but doing homework from dinner time until after ten o’clock was not her idea of a good night.

She did her best to avoid sitting back down right away, scooping up her clothes and putting them on her bed. She could take them to the laundry room hamper, stretch her legs a bit, and then go downstairs for a glass of water.

Taking the clothes to the little bathroom laundry basket was quicker than she would have liked, and so was traipsing down the stairs in the dark to fill a glass with water. 

Everyone else had gone to bed, and she was a little jealous that she was missing out on a good night’s sleep. Flicking the light on in the kitchen, Akane popped open the fridge, looking for a snack. There wasn’t much. Dinner had been delicious, and there hadn’t been any leftovers— a testament to Kasumi’s skill as a chef. 

She frowned. If she was gonna be up all night she wanted to eat something, but she was a terrible, horrible, awful, no good, very bad cook. Over the years she’d managed some truly impressive feats of incompetence in the kitchen. Burned instant ramen, somehow raw hard boiled eggs, chocolate chip cookies without chocolate chips, and she’d set a rice cooker on fire just last winter.

Kasumi had banned her from meal preparation after that.

But her oldest sister was asleep, so maybe she could risk it. If she was careful, and she didn’t do anything too crazy, she could just use the electric kettle to boil water and pour it into a cup of instant ramen. No fire necessary, no oven, no toaster, and no microwave. She could redeem herself for the previous attempt at instant noodles.

Humming quietly, she filled the kettle and set it on the stand, flicking the switch and heading for the pantry to grab a cup of noodles. 

The kettle clicked off and she carefully did her best to make it through the process without somehow setting fire to the little cup in her hands. She opened the cup, took out the little flavor packet, and set it aside before pouring in the water and waiting the requisite three minutes. When the time was up, Akane mixed the packet in, and leaned against the counter to eat.

Footsteps padded down the hall and Akane tensed as someone pushed the kitchen door open.

“It’s okay, Kasumi! I promise I didn’t light anything on fire this time!” Akane almost shouted at the door as it swung open and revealed a very grumpy looking redhead. “Oh, Reiko, you’re still up?”

Reiko groaned and nodded, rubbing her eyes and crossing the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. “I’m still doing homework.”

“Ah,” Akane said. “Me too. I’m going crazy. They assigned so much.”

Timidly, Reiko looked over at Akane. “You’re having trouble, too?”

Akane nodded. “I suppose so. The math homework took a while, but it’s the readings for history and the English homework that are taking all of my time tonight.”

“Yeah…” Reiko said. “It sure is… time consuming.” She glanced at the kitchen door and then back to Akane. 

Akane tried to place the dejected sound of Reiko’s voice, or at least figure out why it was happening this time. Her new housemate was prone to long bouts of self-deprecation and a complete lack of belief that the world should be kind to her. It was concerning, but Akane didn’t really know what to do about it, other than be friendly and expect nothing from Reiko in return.

Guessing that Reiko’s current foul mood was in relation to the homework situation, Akane set her cup down and asked, “Is there something you’re having trouble with, specifically?”

Reiko flushed and looked down at her feet, shuffling awkwardly and mumbling something quietly.

“What’s that, Reiko?” Akane asked.

“...All of it,” Reiko said, just barely loud enough to be heard. “I only just finished the homework for history class. I still have all the rest.”

Akane blinked, surprised. Reiko had taken so many notes, and the actual assignment followed the lecture and the textbook really closely. It was just that actually doing the reading took time because the chapter had been long. “What about it took so long? It was pretty much just the reading and then the follow along assignment.”

Reiko kept her eyes fixed on her feet, a crushed expression on her face, and mumbled something again. 

“Reiko, I can’t hear you when you whisper to your toes, you know.”

The girl’s breath hitched, and she took a moment to refill her glass, back to Akane. When Reiko did finally speak, the self-loathing was thick in every word. “I didn’t know what most of the words meant, and the book talked about related things in history that weren’t in the chapter, and I didn’t know what those were either.”

Akane’s stomach dropped at the tone of Reiko’s voice, and she felt awful for having asked. Of course her upbringing was making things hard for her. From what Akane had learned at lunch, Reiko’s education was anything but traditional, and in a lot of cases, there simply hadn’t been one.

She made a decision, then.

“Come on. Go get your books. Meet me in the living room. We’ll do the homework together, and I’ll help you out.” Akane slipped her arm through Reiko’s and steered her towards the door.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to. I know I’m not smart or anything. Don’t waste your time.”

Reiko wasn’t looking at her.

Akane battled the overwhelming urge to beat the shit out of someone, and smothered the anger before she spoke. Reiko wasn’t the person that needed a thorough ass-kicking. That honor would be reserved for her father, and Akane wouldn’t stop punching until the man stopped breathing.

Instead, she smiled as warmly as she could. “Don’t be silly. Of course you’re smart. You just haven’t had the most traditional upbringing. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

Reiko didn’t seem convinced, eyes still downcast, but she did nod eventually, and Akane walked with her up the stairs, where they parted ways and grabbed their homework before heading back downstairs to spread their things out at the little table in the living room.

“You said you finished the history assignment?” Akane asked.

“Yeah,” Reiko said with a small jerk of her head in the affirmative.

“Can I see it?” Akane asked. “I’ll double check your work and then we’ll do math, okay?”

“...Okay.” 

The homework assignment slid towards her, and Akane checked it against her own. It was mostly right, and difficult to read in Reiko’s chicken scratch handwriting. “You did good,” Akane said. “Just this one, you got the dates wrong.” She tapped a line about halfway down the page.

Reiko hung her head. “Sorry.”

“It’s an easy fix, and now you’ll get credit for having it right. No need to apologize.”

But the redhead didn’t really seem to believe her. Akane wanted to shake her and tell her very firmly that it was okay to make a mistake on her homework, but something told her that wasn’t going to help at all. So she settled for friendly smiles and as cheerful a demeanor as she could muster.

After Reiko corrected the mistake, they set their history books aside, and turned to the math homework. It became clear immediately that Reiko was lost, and lacked even the basic fundamental understanding of math that would let her attempt the assignment. 

“All right, so for this one, we are just trying to solve for the variable, right?” Akane said. And Reiko nodded, eyes glazed over in confusion. “Do you… know what a variable is, Reiko?”

There was silence while Reiko’s face twisted through several expressions. “No.”

“Then let’s start there, yeah?” Akane said, trying to keep it positive. The reality was that it was nearing eleven and there was no way either of them were getting to sleep that night. She was annoyed, but it wasn’t annoyance at Reiko, and she didn’t know how to express that without scaring the girl off forever, so she kept her voice light and a smile plastered on her face.

This was so much more important than sleep anyway.

“So in algebra, there are parts of the equation that we don’t know, and our job is to find them out so we can do the math to solve the question, right?” Akane tried, Reiko nodded slowly as she digested the information. “The variable in this equation is the letter x. It’s the part we don’t know. But we need to figure out what that number is.”

“And we just start at one and work our way up?” Reiko asked, eyes horrified.

Akane laughed. “No, no. We don’t have to do it that way. We can use the rest of the equation to eliminate other numbers from consideration. This one is actually a good one to start on because there aren’t a lot of things to move around.”

Slowly, meticulously, and step by step, Akane walked Reiko through the first problem. Reiko did her best to follow along, but got lost about three quarters of the way through, and they spent ten minutes talking about where she’d gotten lost. Akane thought she understood, and so she had Reiko talk her through the next one while she worked.

Reiko went slow, doing the math on her fingers when she added, subtracted, divided, or multiplied, and she mostly got it right. Akane tried to be gentle when she corrected her friend, who looked so ashamed of herself when she got it wrong.

By the time they were starting on the fifth problem, Reiko seemed to be getting the hang of the process of solving for x. Which was good, once she had that down, she’d fly through it, and then Akane would only have to double check that her arithmetic was correct.

Feet padded down the hall, and they looked up when Nabiki strode into the living room in her pajamas, carrying a stack of books and grinning at the both of them. “Late night study session, huh?”

Reiko nodded, eyes down.

“Sure is,” Akane agreed.

“Mind if I join?” Nabiki asked. “I’m a whiz at math, I can help out if you have questions.”

“Of course,” Akane said. She knew for a fact that Nabiki was done with her homework, her sister flew through her assignments and maintained excellent grades, much to Akane’s chagrin. Nabiki could have done the math homework that Reiko and Akane needed to get done in her sleep.

But her middle sister settled in at the table all the same, taking the spot on Reiko’s other side and scooting close so she could see what Reiko was doing.

When Reiko got her multiplication wrong next, Nabiki pointed it out and then showed her a trick to get it done faster and more accurately. “You don’t even have to think about it if you do it this way,” Nabiki said. “Math is math, so it’s never going to change. The numbers aren’t going to disagree with you like someone might if they read a poem and think different about it than you do. Times tables are locked in.”

As the night wore on towards midnight, Reiko’s demeanor became less guarded, and Akane thought she even grinned a little when she did the last math problem without making a mistake.

“English is next,” Reiko groaned.

“That’s where I come in,” Kasumi said, striding into the room in her nightgown, she was holding a small blackboard and a piece of chalk. She, too, settled at the table and started teaching as if she were giving the lecture in class.

How had Kasumi and Nabiki known what they were up to? It was a question she realized she didn’t particularly care to know the answer to. What did matter to her was that they were all there, together.

Akane beamed at her sisters, smiling bright as they all crowded around the table with Reiko and supported her. There was no judgement, no words of disappointment when the redhead didn’t understand, nothing but a gentle acceptance that she needed their help and that they could and would provide it.

English took the longest by far, because Reiko had never learned any of it at her other schools when she had been allowed to attend, but Kasumi was kind and gentle and patient. The homework got done, eventually, and Akane knew that the good grades and completed assignments were not what would be remembered about that night around the table.

Books were set aside sometime around three in the morning, and Kasumi made them all tea as they lounged tiredly in the living room. 

Akane hadn’t felt this content with her life in a long, long time.

Over the next week, Akane fell into a new rhythm. Adjusting to having a new person under their roof had gone mostly well. In the morning, she’d go for a run like she normally did, and to her delight, Reiko had started joining her. The girl had boundless energy and never seemed to get worn out when they exercised. Akane was jealous of her stamina, but grateful for a friend that could, and would, work as hard as she did.

Then she’d go to school with Reiko, who would hold her bag and cheer her on while she fought her way into the building. She’d been getting faster at defeating her would-be suitors with each passing day. And then she’d deal with Kuno, who seemed to be pressing her harder and harder each time they fought. After, Reiko would tell her what she’d noticed in the fight and offer to deal with the crowd the following day. Akane always declined the offer.

Class was the thing least changed by the arrival of her new housemate, save for the fact that Reiko always acted like a person possessed during class, tense and worried while she took notes, but the worry had dissolved from a frenzied need to write every word spoken in her notebook and settled into a desire to understand as much as possible before she had to climb the mountain that was homework.

At lunch Akane dragged Reiko to eat with Sayuri and Yuka, and sometimes the bubbly girl Emi, who seemed impervious to Reiko’s awkwardness. She was proud to note that there hadn’t been any incidents since that first day, and Reiko was finally starting to relax. She even spoke sometimes without being asked a direct question.

After school, Akane and Reiko would go to the dojo, and Reiko would demonstrate her absolute and total mastery of martial arts. Akane did her best to keep up, but the redhead was infinitely better at it than she was. Despite that, Reiko was never harsh with her, choosing instead to work with her on things that were at or just above her skill level.

And then they’d head inside to wash up and have dinner.

But the best thing about her new routine came after dinner. She and Reiko would fetch their school bags and crowd into the living room to do homework, and every night Nabiki and Kasumi would find an excuse to join them. Between the learning and the adjusting and the giggles that had started to join their study sessions, Akane was happy.

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirteen

Ranma was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He'd been at the Tendo Dojo for just over a week, and nothing horrific had happened to him. Sure, he'd been a complete mess the entire time, but for some reason everyone was more than willing to try and help him deal with all of his fuckups. He hated it. Hated feeling so weak and pathetic and useless all the time. Hated that he couldn’t shake the guilt or the shame long enough to do anything about it.

His father would be livid if and when he found out how Ranma had spent his time since arriving.

He hadn't had any more really bad breakdowns, nor had he run away from any more conversations— though it had been close more than once. His success was all thanks to his new super secret tactic: not talking to anyone about anything that wasn't superficial or school related. His problems couldn't bother him if he didn't talk about them and pretended they didn't exist. The plan was foolproof.

Ranma didn’t talk about his father, his weird aversion to hot water, his eating habits, the fact that he preferred sleeping on the floor, his complete inability to have a coherent thought around Akane, or the fact that he avoided looking at himself in the mirror whenever possible.

As it was, the Tendos seemed happy enough to let him be for now. None of them had really pried into his personal life since they'd taken it upon themselves to join him for homework at night. And while it was an unexpected and certainly shameful experience to need so much assistance, there was a part of him that really enjoyed spending time with them.

It was nice. 

For the first time in his life he felt welcome and accepted, even if he knew he didn’t deserve it.

Lessons learned from Kasumi, Nabiki, and Akane weren't painful or demeaning, and his only punishment for failure was to talk it through and try again.

He considered that maybe, just maybe, girls had problem solving figured out a little bit better than boys did. He'd always solved all of his problems with his fists. But he couldn't beat his math homework into submission with a knife hand or haymaker. So, he settled for studying and improving his mind.

It made him feel… good about himself. He was getting better at something and his father wasn't around to tell him he wasn't good enough. Sure, his grades so far had been middle of the pack, but he'd learned so much and he didn't feel like he was drowning during class anymore. He'd even successfully solved a math problem on the blackboard when his name had been called.

Take that, pop!

When the sun rose on Monday morning, his alarm clock greeted him with its incessant buzzing, and Ranma groaned from his little nest on the floor of his room. The bed had yet to draw him to sleep, so he'd settled for a comfy pile of blankets and pillows on the firm floor.

Last night he'd been up late, studying as usual, in preparation for his first ever quiz. To say that he was concerned was an understatement. Panicked was more accurate; or terrified.

Still, the alarm clock wasn't going to turn off itself. He rolled out of his pile of blankets and got to his feet, stumbling over to the nightstand so he could fiddled with the clock through bleary eyes.

Why did Akane have to go for a run before school? Why couldn't they just run home after? In the afternoon. When sleep was not the primary objective.

Stretching, he willed himself awake. It kind of worked.

Ranma changed into a pair of sweats Kasumi had set out for him when he'd started going for runs with Akane. A t-shirt followed, and then he was tripping over himself to get downstairs.

Akane was waiting for him by the front door, with a bright smile that lit up her eyes like all the stars in the sky, and Ranma flushed. “G-good morning.”

“Good morning, Reiko! Ready?”

“U-uh y-yeah.” He paid very close attention to his shoes as he slipped them on, because it was better than looking at her and dissolving into a stuttering mess. He did better when they were focused on something specific. But in the mornings, Akane liked to talk to him about whatever crossed her mind.

And Ranma learned that he was an abysmal conversationalist. 

Whether that was the result of having spent very little time around other people growing up, or because he was hopeless when it came to Akane was up in the air. But he knew it was at least in part because he felt guilty for lying to her about who he was. And for thinking she was pretty. And for being too chickenshit to be honest about anything. It boiled down to knowing that he wasn’t good enough to talk to her.

And he did it anyway because she was the flame and he was the moth. He’d do just about anything to spend time with her, including getting up at dawn and going for a five mile odyssey across the neighborhood.

They set off on their run and Ranma fell in beside her, breathing steady and even. Akane’s stamina had improved a ton even in the week they’d been training together, and she didn’t get winded as quickly when they ran. She’d picked up the breathing exercises he’d worked on with her in just a few hours.

He’d be jealous if it wasn’t so fucking impressive. She had the mind for martial arts, picking apart and understanding how movements worked easily, and adapting them to work for her once she understood them. She was like a sponge.

Her only flaw was a deeply ingrained belief that she needed to stand firm and strike as hard as possible, a bad habit built over long years without proper instruction. Well, that and the fact that she was surprisingly clumsy if she wasn’t beating the shit out of some would-be suitor.

Akane dropped things and tripped an awful lot. Not that he would ever point it out to her face, or anything. He liked living— most of the time.

“I was thinking we could go out with Sayuri and Yuka on our next day off,” Akane said as they turned a corner and started along the winding path by the river.

“Go out?” Ranma asked.

“Yeah,” Akane huffed as they ran. “We were thinking that it would be nice to spend time together outside of school, and I know you haven’t gone out except to run errands with Kasumi. So I’m inviting you.”

Ranma’s heart hammered in his chest, and not because he was exercising. Akane was asking him to go with her and her friends… on a girls day. The idea of it made his skin crawl.

He didn’t need more girl shit. He’d already brought more than enough shame on his family name as it was. Going out and giggling and talking about boys, as Yuka and Sayuri seemed to love doing, was not his idea of a good time. What if they decided he needed more clothes? What if they wanted to do something else stupid and girly?

“Oh, uh, thanks?” Ranma said. “I’m not sure I’d be any fun though. I’ll just stay home. I’m not really good at that stuff anyway.”

Akane gave him a side-eye that told him he really didn’t have a choice in the matter. “No. You’re coming.”

“But—” Ranma tried to say.

“I told them I’d talk you into it,” Akane said. “And I’m not above bribery.”

“I just— I don’t…” Ranma sighed and sped up a little bit so that he could collect his thoughts. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with Akane. He really did. It was his favorite thing about staying with the Tendos, and it would be the thing he missed the most when he left for China again.

He just couldn’t handle all of the shit that came with being a girl in public. Ranma hated the way people acted towards him, and the way he felt about himself, and how much he missed pants most of the time, for that matter.

But the worst part of it all, was that he was starting to get used to it. 

The weight and height of his body wasn’t alien to him anymore. The extra speed and flexibility were part of him now. Even the way he’d settled into a friendship with Akane, who told him she was glad he wasn’t a boy. And he liked those things, but they weren’t him. They weren’t…

I’m supposed to be this exemplar of masculinity.

And all he could think about was the guilt he felt when he put on his school uniform and lied to everyone in his life about who he was.

Spending time with people his age was the hardest, he couldn’t just ignore them. Particularly those he spent all day in class with.

As it so often did, the roiling in his stomach washed between guilt and anger and resentment and he fought it back down with every ounce of himself. What he needed to do, more than studying every night, or practicing martial arts with Akane, or going out for a fucking girls day, was to get a job and start saving some money to get the hell out of Nerima.

“Hey! Don’t just run away!” Akane shouted from behind him.

Ranma didn’t slow down.

“I know where you live!”

He kept the distance between them for another block or two before slowing and falling back in beside her. All he had to do was tell her that, no, he didn’t want to go out for a girls day.

“What the hell, Reiko?” Akane panted when he was shoulder to shoulder with her.

“Sorry,” Ranma said, looking anywhere but at Akane.

“You haven’t run off on me in almost a week, Akane chuckled. She looked over and smiled at him. He stumbled and almost ate a mouthful of sidewalk. His stomach was doing that flippy floppy thing again.

Akane caught him before he fell, and they stopped running. Ranma forgot how to breathe, instead being focused solely on the fact that Akane had her arms around his middle and was holding him upright. “Easy there, Reiko. You really are such a klutz, you know that?”

He blinked. 

He was the klutz?

But she’d tripped down the stairs just yesterday! And she melted a cup of ramen the day before that. And there was the incident with the soccer ball during P.E.

“M-me?” Ranma managed.

“Yes, you. You’re always stumbling over yourself. It’s crazy that you’re so good at martial arts, Reiko. You’re hopeless otherwise.” Akane giggled and let him go.

“That’s not— I don’t—” He growled. “I’m not a klutz!”

Akane laughed, a bright happy sound, and Ranma found that he wasn’t really mad at her at all. He wasn’t sure if he could be mad at her. She was like sunshine. He scoffed and crossed his arms, looking away.

“So, now that you have that out of your system… you’ll come out with us?”

No. “Yes.” 

Fuck.

“Good! I’m glad. The girls will be happy to see you out of school.”

“Will they?”

“Reiko, they said as much at lunch the other day. You were there.”

“...Oh.”

“You were spacing out again?”

“I don’t space out!”

“Sure, Reiko. Sure.”

“I don’t!”

“Of course not.”

“I mean it! I don’t space out!”

“If you say so, Reiko.”

“Akane!”

But she didn’t answer, instead laughing and running ahead of him this time, forcing him to sprint to catch up to her. 

When they arrived back home, they were breathing heavily. Akane was laughing and Ranma was doing his best to look annoyed. He went straight to the guest room to save himself any embarrassment from other members of Akane’s family, and changed into his school uniform. Breakfast awaited, and he was famished. 

But going downstairs meant dealing with people.

He hesitated.

A flash of red hair caught his eye in the mirror.

He turned to face the girl who was always in there. 

The girl was so different from him. Where he’d been tall and dark haired, the girl was short— shorter than Akane— and had the most vibrant red hair he’d ever seen on anyone. Her features were softer than his, and her nose was smaller and thinner than his had been. Today, she wasn’t glowering like he was used to seeing.

She eyed him curiously, looking him up and down in her own Furinkan high school uniform. Her hair was up in the short braid he’d taken to wearing. He’d done it so the red of his hair didn’t catch his eye, but it seemed perhaps out of place on the girl in the mirror. Not that he’d know what suited her. She wasn’t him.

Before, he’d just tied his hair back out of his face, and that had been enough. He’d let it grow as he’d traveled, and tying it back had been satisfactory when training. Now he thought that perhaps a haircut was in order.

“What do you want?” Ranma asked her, immediately regretting how harsh his voice sounded. It wasn’t like it was her fault she was always in the mirror when he looked at his reflection. She didn’t choose to be in there anymore than he chose to fall in the cursed spring at Jusenkyo.

She looked a little hurt, but shrugged and didn’t say anything.

“Look, I’m kind of in a hurry, okay?” Ranma said. “I have school.”

The girl nodded, opened her mouth to speak, and then shook her head.

He sighed. “Is there something wrong?

She considered that for a moment, tapping a finger to her lip and giving him an odd look before pulling at her braid and then gesturing to the collar of his shirt. 

He looked down at his uniform. Sure enough, the collar was bent up on one side. How had he missed that?

“Oh, uh… thanks?” Ranma said to her as he flipped it back down.

She nodded to him, tugging on her braid one more time. There was a question in her eyes, but she didn’t ask it, and he didn’t know what it was. He hesitated before the mirror, her eyes were sad and she seemed lonely.

He knew that feeling really well. He’d grown up with it, lived his whole life with his loneliness and sad eyes. It hurt to see it on someone else, even if that someone was the girl he’d rather never interact with at all.

“I’ve gotta get down to breakfast,” he said, suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to run away from the bedroom and the mirror on the wardrobe.

She smiled wistfully, and nodded. He could feel her watching him go even as he turned his back to the mirror and grabbed the door handle. He stood with his hand on the door handle for a long moment. 

He should tell the girl he’d see her later. Tell her he’d have a good day at school.

He should tell her that he would let her know about his day.

Ranma gripped the door handle so tight his knuckles turned white. He couldn’t turn around and face her. He wanted to hate the girl in the mirror more than anything else. Wanted to hate her and make her go away forever.

He flung the door open and all but slammed it closed behind him.

She was going to be in his room when he got back from school. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

Taking the stairs four at a time, Ranma practically dove into his spot at the breakfast table and tried to collect himself while he picked at the food before him. He felt the eyes of Kasumi, Nabiki, and Akane on him as he tried to arrange his features in some semblance of neutrality.

As long as they didn’t ask him about it, he’d be fine. 

As long as he didn’t have to talk about the girl in the fucking mirror, he would be okay.

“Reiko, are you feeling okay?” Kasumi asked.

He ducked his head and nodded. All he had to do was avoid eye-contact. If he didn’t acknowledge his problems, they wouldn’t persist. He could do that. He could definitely do that. 

“I’m fine,” he said quietly.

“She’s just upset because she tripped while we were out for a run,” Akane said as she joined them at the table. “She’s embarrassed because she’s a klutz.”

“I’m not a klutz!”

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen

Akane watched Reiko out of the corner of her eye as they walked to school, she’d been quieter than normal, which was honestly kind of impressive. She’d been so flustered by all the teasing during their morning run and then at breakfast, and Akane had found it hilarious. She’d had no idea how to handle dealing with it, but it had been fun. And Reiko didn’t have enough fun, so Akane had pushed it a little.

Now, Reiko didn’t seem to know what to do or say to her, and she was frowning and staring at her feet as they walked. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to say, but eventually decided it wasn’t worth it.

When they turned a corner, just a block or so away from the river, Reiko was splashed by a not insignificant amount of water that sloshed across her face and dripped down onto her clothes. Reiko squawked in indignation and stumbled away from the liquid assault, crashing ungracefully into a bush. The rustling sound of leaves and the cracking of branches accompanied Reiko’s swearing. When she emerged, glowering, she was a wreck, wide eyed and sputtering and glaring at the little old lady who was cleaning her porch and doing her gardening.

“Oh my, dear, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there,” said the old woman, waving her bucket and ladle apologetically. More water slopped out of the bucket and onto Reiko’s shoes.

“What the hell, lady!?” Reiko shouted, as she stomped her waterlogged shoes on the sidewalk. “I’m completely soaked.”

Akane saw the impending meltdown and pulled Reiko away before her friend could punch an old woman in the face. Reiko struggled against her grip, clearly determined to lash out at the woman. “Come on, Reiko. Calm down. She didn’t mean to do it.”

Reiko struggled for a few more seconds, face red with frustration, and then sagged in Akane’s grip. “I’m gonna go home.”

“No you’re not,” Akane said. “Come on. I know a place where we can dry off your clothes.”

Reiko nodded and followed without another word, her shoes squelching with each step. She took them to a small medical clinic up the street, and let them both in. She deposited Reiko in one of the chairs in the otherwise empty lobby, and headed for the back room.

“Dr. Tofu!” Akane called. “Sorry to bother you so early, but I was hoping we could make use of your dryer.”

Ono Tofu, the local chiropractor and general practitioner, stuck his head out of a room at the end of the hallway, blinking curiously at Akane.

She felt her cheeks heat up when she saw him, he was very handsome. And he wasn’t anything like the other boys in her life. He was kind and gentle and never asked anything of her. No dates, no kisses, no nonsense. She liked him. She liked him a lot.

“Well hello there, Akane,” he said, smiling.

“Good morning, Dr. Tofu,” Akane said.

“You said you needed to use my… dryer?” He asked, chuckling. “You seem dry enough to me.”

Akane blushed furiously and pulled her hair over her shoulder, looking at her shoes. “It’s not me, Dr. Tofu. My friend Reiko, she got splashed by the little old lady on the corner, and we have to get to school.”

“That name sounds familiar,” Dr. Tofu said, as he walked down the hall towards her. “Your sister mentioned her, I think, when she came by to drop off a book she borrowed. Is she the one who’s staying at the dojo?”

Akane felt her heart fall into her stomach when Dr. Tofu mentioned Kasumi. He’d always had a crush on her big sister, but Akane just wanted him to notice that she was a girl, too. That she was pretty and capable and smart like Kasumi. She wanted him to like her the way he liked Kasumi so desperately.

“Yeah,” Akane said quietly. “She’s in the lobby.”

“Well, have her come on back. We can get her things dried off and get you back on your way.” He smiled and patted Akane on the shoulder. Her stomach did flip-flops.

Akane hurried back out to the lobby. “Reiko? Come on back. The doctor is gonna let us dry your clothes off.”

Reiko, who looked like a puppy that had been left out in the rain, nodded and sighed. “Yeah, okay.”

She led Reiko down the hall, to the little attached apartment that Dr. Tofu lived in. “Here she is, Dr. Tofu.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Reiko. I’m Dr. Ono Tofu. The Tendos are my patients, and good friends.” He smiled and offered Reiko his hand.

She shook it.

“If you head into the bathroom there, you can use my dryer. It doesn’t look like you’re soaked through, so hopefully it doesn’t take you too long. Would you like a medical gown or a change of clothes for while you wait?”

Reiko looked at her shoes. “Yes, please,” she said.

“Thank you, Dr. Tofu,” Akane said, smiling brightly at him.

“Of course, Akane. You know you’re welcome any time,” Dr. Tofu said, adjusting his glasses and taking a seat at the little kitchen table attached to the living space. “I’ll bring you clothes in just a moment,” he said to Reiko.

Akane flushed, heart fluttering with excitement. “Really?”

He laughed good naturedly. “Of course. You and your sisters.”

Akane’s hope dimmed, and she tried to hide her disappointment that his offer wasn’t specific to her. She steered Reiko, who was staring at her with a stricken look on her face, to the bathroom.

“Well, go on,” Akane said, closing the door behind them.

Reiko’s eyes went wide and she looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “What? Now?!” 

Akane blinked owlishly. “Yes, now, Reiko. We have to go to school.”

“B-b-but you’re i-in here!” Reiko said, crossing her arms over her chest and turning a vibrant shade of red.

“Yeah, and we’re both girls.” Akane rolled her eyes. Reiko’s prudeness was equal parts endearing and frustrating. “Besides, your hair got wet, it needs to be taken down and brushed out. There’s leaves in it.”

“C-can you t-turn around?” Reiko asked, voice whisper quiet.

Akane held back a laugh. “Okay. Okay.”

She turned her back to Reiko and stared at the door. The sounds of wet clothes hitting the ground followed shortly after, and Akane had to will herself not to turn around. She wondered what it was about her body that Reiko didn’t want anyone to see. Reiko was very pretty, and if the way some of her clothes fit her was any indication, it wasn’t like she had anything to be ashamed of.

There was a knock at the door.

“I have an old hoodie and some sweatpants that Reiko can wear,” Dr. Tofu said.

Akane opened the door a crack and stuck her hand out the door. Dr. Tofu put the clothes in her hand, and she pulled them through the small crack. “Thanks, doctor.”

She turned to Reiko, and held out the spare clothes. “Here you—” she froze, eyes going wide.

Reiko was standing there in her underwear, and her hair had been taken out of its braid. Her damp, messy hair clung to her neck and cheeks, and Akane had to remind herself to breathe. It was like a scene out of a sexy spy movie, where the main character saw the femme fatale in the hotel room. For the first time, Akane realized that Reiko Saotome was very, very fucking hot. 

Something foreign curled in Akane’s stomach. Heat rose in her cheeks and she closed her eyes, extending her arms and shoving the clothes at Reiko.

“Here you go!” She said, trying to hide her own embarrassment. “Get dressed and let’s dry your clothes off, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Reiko said, taking the clothes. Akane stood there with her eyes closed and prayed that her cheeks weren’t the color of Reiko’s hair. 

Reiko’s damp hair. Hair that clung to her neck in just the right—

“I’m dressed.”

Akane opened her eyes. Dr. Tofu’s clothes were enormous on her, and she looked like a giant, walking blanket. That was good. Nothing distracting and weird and wrong about blankets. No siree. Blankets were standard issue normal things.

She helped Reiko scoop up her clothes and get them in the dryer, and then, with shaking hands, prompted Reiko to turn around so she could pick leaves and sticks from her hair. To her relief and dismay, it was over quickly. She combed her fingers through Reiko’s hair to make sure it didn’t get too tangled. Red tresses caught the light in the small bathroom just so, and shimmered like rubies and firelight. For a blissful moment, Reiko was relaxed before her as Akane’s fingers worked. For once, Akane was the one who felt flustered. It was an uncomfortable feeling. When she was done, she retreated from the bathroom and to the relative safety of Dr. Tofu’s kitchen.

“Thanks again, Dr. Tofu,” Akane said, perhaps a bit too loudly as she stepped into the room. He was at his kitchen counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee. She forced herself to breathe normally. She had a crush on him. On him. She made her way to him and inserted herself firmly into his personal space and giggled.

Reiko made a strangled sound somewhere behind her. Akane didn’t look.

“Ah, it’s no trouble Akane,” Dr. Tofu said, taking a sip of his coffee and shifting his weight back, creating a bit more space between them. “Would you like some?” He tilted his mug up.

“We still appreciate it,” Akane said brightly, beaming at him and touching his arm. “And no, thank you. Coffee isn’t my favorite.”

“Well,” Dr. Tofu said, stepping away from her, chuckling nervously. “I’m happy to be of service.”

“Oh you’re too modest, Dr. Tofu,” Akane said, shifting her weight from side to side, batting her eyelashes and smiling up at him. 

Maybe she was putting it on a little thick, but it was safe. Safer than… whatever the hell had happened to her in the bathroom. With Reiko of all people. Reiko! The girl who was a complete wreck. The girl who was completely incapable of having a legitimate conversation about anything with anyone. The girl.  

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Reiko, still as a statue in the bathroom doorway, staring at her with an indecipherable look on her face.

She didn’t like it. It made her uncomfortable.

Akane turned her attention back to Dr. Tofu, and flirted with him until the dryer buzzed. She didn’t go back to the bathroom with Reiko when she changed back into her uniform. The redhead emerged with her hair still down. It suited her, Akane thought. More than the little braid anyway.

And on the rest of their walk to school, Akane couldn’t bring herself to look at Reiko.

Reiko looked like she was about to throw up, her face twisting through all sorts of emotions— none of them pleasant.

“So you like him?” Reiko asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was pained, somehow.

“Like who?” Akane asked, startled by the fact that Reiko, of all people, had initiated conversation.

Reiko huffed and crossed her arms, book bag swinging wildly. “Dr. Tofu.”

Akane had the good grace to blush and look embarrassed, and, well, she was, but…

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I do. He’s nice. Handsome, too. Nothing like the boys at school.”

Reiko looked away, and Akane wondered what she was thinking while she stared at the back of her friend’s head. “I kinda thought…”

“Kinda thought what?” Akane prompted, but Reiko had clammed up, and didn’t seem like she wanted to continue the conversation.

“Nothing. Its stupid. Don’t worry about it,” and she broke stride with Akane to walk in front of her. Akane frowned, worried— as usual— about Reiko’s issues with everyday life. But she didn’t know what to do, and what was worse, she couldn’t even focus on being worried about Reiko, because the girl’s hips were swaying just so as she walked. 

She remembered how she’d looked, glistening in the bathroom and bit the inside of her cheek. 

Akane had no idea what had gotten into her. She’d seen plenty of girls in dressing rooms before. But she didn’t like whatever had happened. It was scary.

She walked a few steps behind Reiko, lost in thought and wishing more than anything that Dr. Tofu would just treat her like a woman for once. If he did that, she could just focus on that, and he would treat her how she deserved, and she would be happy.

When they entered the school grounds with only seven minutes before their first class, Akane was, somehow, surprised that there was a horde of boys demanding that she date them. In fact, she was so startled by it, that the first punch thrown actually cracked across her cheek.

Akane stumbled back, blinking in shock, school bag dropping to the ground. The crowd fell silent, as a surprised hush swept across the school grounds. Nobody had ever landed a hit on her during these brawls before— well, everyone except Kuno. She raised a hand to her cheek, feeling the stinging with her fingers. She’d have a bruise.

The boy who had hit her looked more surprised than she felt.

“I… I got her,” he said, and his shock transformed into glee. 

And the crowd seemed to realize all at once that she wasn’t invincible. 

“I got her!” The boy repeated with a whoop, and pumped his fist into the air, and strutting around in front of the assembled boys.

Akane growled, grabbed his pumping wrist, pulled him around to face her. His expression transformed from elation, and then to shock, and settled on fear as she drove the oxygen from his lungs with a ferocious punch to his stomach.

He dropped to the ground with all the grace of a thrown bag of rice. 

For a moment, everyone stared. And then they charged.

Akane tried to collect her thoughts and rally her focus enough to fight them, but it had been a weird morning. She backpedaled from a baseball bat that had been swung at her head, and then ducked under a wildly thrown haymaker. She was off her game, and this morning’s scrap was going to be a messy one.

Thoughts of Reiko, and of romance with the good doctor were drowned out by her overwhelming rage. How dare they hit her when she wasn’t looking? How dare they interrupt her train of thought? She’d been trying to work through a personal crisis!

Another wild punch nearly hit her and she growled.

She really, really, really hated boys.

She was going to kill someone this morning.

A hockey stick cracked across her forearm and she yelped with pain.

Reiko slipped in front of her, arms flashing with movement almost too fast to even see. Would-be suitors fell, one after the other, and Reiko stood before the onslaught, seemingly unbothered by the sheer amount of them. Every single person that got close collapsed after a single blow. 

Akane watched, awestruck. Reiko was a vision of grace and beauty, and Akane didn’t like the thing that curled in her belly as she watched Reiko kick the shit out of everyone that tried to hit her.

Reiko was so much better at fighting than she was. So much faster. So much more graceful. So much prettier.

And that made her mad, too. Because she wasn’t good enough. Not good enough for Dr. Tofu. Not good enough to keep up with Reiko. And she wasn’t good enough to defend herself. 

What kind of amateur got hit by these hooligans? 

She felt entirely inadequate.

When the last boy fell to his knees, clutching his stomach, Reiko turned to Akane and grinned. “You okay? Looked like they caught you off guard this morning.”

Akane blinked, emotions running a mile a minute, and awe at Reiko’s skill turned to relief that the fight was over for the morning, turned to indignation that Reiko had helped, turned to rage that Reiko had fought her battle for her. And she snapped, confused, angry tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “I told you I didn’t need your help!” Akane shouted. “Why did you get in the way?” 

Reiko cocked her head to the side, clearly not understanding why she was being yelled at. And for once, she didn’t curl in on herself immediately. “You weren’t paying attention, and they hit you, so…”

“I didn’t ask you to fight my battles for me,” Akane snarled. “If I get hit, then so be it.”

“But you don’t have to—” Reiko started.

“You don’t get it! It’s my problem! Mine! You agreed not to fight them!” Akane shook with barely restrained fury. “I’m not made of glass. I can take a hit!”

Reiko, finally, shrunk in on herself. Akane liked that she could have control over at least that this morning. “I didn’t mean—”

“You’re so annoying. I don’t need your help. I don’t want your help. Just butt out of my business!” Akane snapped, and immediately wished she could take it back, because the heartbroken look on Reiko’s face was way, way worse than anything that had happened that day.

Like a switch had been flipped, the anger drained from Akane. She hadn’t lost her temper like that in a while, and never had she directed it at a friend, or another girl. 

“Shit, Reiko. I’m sorr—” 

But Reiko was already running into the building, head down and book bag clutched tightly to her chest. And Akane thought she heard a choked sob escape her friend.

Akane took a shaky breath to steady herself, and picked up her own bag from the ground. She’d really stepped in it now. She’d gone ahead and blown up at Reiko because… because…

She’s pretty.

Akane wanted to be sick. 

Dragging her feet, Akane walked into the building as a stone settled in her stomach. Maybe just cutting class was the better choice today. Then she wouldn’t have to sit next to Reiko and think about how shitty she’d been to her friend.

“So, you haven’t had a blow up like that in a while,” Nabiki said as Akane walked through the front door. Her sister was leaning against Akane’s shoe locker, arms crossed and looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“I know…” Akane said miserably.

“She stopped someone from bludgeoning you with a cricket bat,” Nabiki said. “And that was after she let you get hit— twice.”

Akane glowered at her sister. “I know.” She tried to shove Nabiki aside to get to her locker, but her older sister was firmly planted in place.

Nabiki pushed Akane’s hand aside. “Do you? Because you were about three seconds from a date with Shinji Nakamura, per the standing rules of your agreement.”

“Shinji wasn’t there,” Akane snapped. “I was there. Reiko didn’t fight him.”

“He was behind you, dumbass,” Nabiki said. “Reiko brained him with his own bat before she got in front of you.”

“She… what? How?”

“Don’t ask me,” Nabiki said. “She’s too fast to follow. Couldn’t even see her hands. But I could see her face. And she was pissed when that kid from 3-A, Bota Hayashi, took that cheap shot at you. Decked you from around the corner when you walked onto the grounds.”

“So that’s who that was. I hit him really hard,” Akane said. 

“He’s in the nurse’s office. You hit him so hard he passed out.”

Akane winced. 

“No, don’t do that. Bastard definitely deserved it. But someone didn’t deserve the way you acted this morning.”

“So you’re just gonna take her side, huh?” Akane said defensively.

Nabiki raised an eyebrow in that way she did when she was dissecting someone and deciding just how to get what she wanted. Akane had seen it before, though it was seldom used on her.

“I’m not taking Reiko’s side. I’m telling you that you’re being an idiot.”

Akane felt her temper bubbling up again. “Oh, I am, am I?”

“Yeah.”

The bell rang, and Nabiki didn’t move. Akane glared at her sister. “We’re late for class.”

“So we are,” Nabiki agreed, sounding entirely unconcerned. “A real shame.”

“Are you gonna move?” Akane asked.

“When you’ve had a few minutes to calm down. You usually flame out after a half hour or so.”

They glared at each other for a full minute before Nabiki sighed and put her arm through Akane’s and dragged her back out the front door. 

“What are you doing?” Akane protested, but Nabiki had her arm in a vice grip.

“We are skipping first period and going for a walk.”

“Why?”

“Because. You’re still mad. And you’re gonna tell me why you blew up at your new best friend.”

“Like hell,” Akane said.

Nabiki’s eyes glinted dangerously. “So it didn’t have to do with the fight. I thought so.”

Akane groaned. “How do you do that?” 

“It’s a gift, little sister. And a curse.”

Akane didn’t say anything, instead she let Nabiki guide her away from the school and down one of the less busy streets nearby. Nabiki let her stew for five minutes, and in that time, the rage that had settled in her belly had started to dissipate.

“You want to volunteer the information, or am I going to have to pry it from you by force?”

Akane grimaced. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course not,” Nabiki said. “But that kind of crash out is usually reserved for people like Kuno, so I want the details.”

“I’m not gonna tell you,” Akane said. Because how could she? She’d checked out Reiko. She’d… it made her skin crawl with guilt and shame and disgust.

“I noticed her hair was down when you two got to school,” Nabiki said, eyes watching Akane’s face carefully.

Akane blushed. “Yeah.”

“Uh-huh,” Nabiki said. “It looked nice, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Akane said. Her feigned disinterest wasn’t very convincing. Instead she looked anywhere but at her sister. She settled for looking at the clouds floating by.

“I sure do wonder why she took it down after she left for school. With you.” 

Akane was determined to stay quiet.

“You could tell me why,” Nabiki said, and then her voice became devious. “Or I could guess.”

“It’s not your business,” Akane snapped.

“Did she just randomly decide for a change of pace? Because I don’t think that really fits her personality. She’s very set in her ways, foolish as they sometimes are.” Nabiki laughed.

“Let it go, Nabiki.”

“Nah. I’ll just guess again.”

Akane groaned.

“Maybe she got mauled by a cat or a dog or something, and her hair got all messed up.”

“That’s just silly,” Akane said.

“I agree. I agree.”

Nabiki turned them down another street and pulled her along when she tried to run away. “None of that now, I’m gonna keep guessing.”

“I want to go to class.”

“That’s boring. Did she see a really nice hat that she wanted to try on?”

“Of course not.”

“She got her hair caught on a tree branch.”

That was closer, but still not what had happened. “No.”

“She got in a fight with a gang of thugs.”

“No.”

“She attended a rock concert.”

“Of course not.”

Nabiki stopped them in front of a cart selling takoyaki. “Okay, Akane. Last chance to tell me willingly before I pull out the big guns.”

“You mean randomly guessing and forcing me to miss class isn’t your main mode of attack?” Akane asked, crossing her arms.

“Of course not,” Nabiki said. “Buying you your favorite kind of takoyaki is.”

“...what?”

Nabiki laughed. “You had a bad morning and you did a shitty thing, but you’re still my sister and I care about you.” She bought the food and handed half to Akane. They walked side by side back towards the school, Akane staring absently at the food.

“How did you even know the cart was there?”

“I make it my business to know stuff like that, so I can pry juicy gossip out of my little sister on days like today.”

“That can’t be why,” Akane said, taking a bite.

“Of course not,” Nabiki agreed. “Do you want to know what I really think?”

“About Reiko’s hair?”

“Among other things,” Nabiki said.

“You’re gonna tell me anyway,” Akane grumbled.

“I think her hair came out when you pinned her against a building and kissed the living daylights out of her.”

Akane stopped walking, fear and excitement curling in her belly. She felt heat rising in her cheeks and tried to control the deluge of emotions. “That… didn’t happen.”

Nabiki stifled a laugh behind her hand.

“No shit, Akane. Her hair was damp. She got splashed by something.”

Akane sputtered and leveled a glare at her sister. “You knew? You knew the whole time!?”

“Yeah. But now I know you like her, too. And if that isn’t why you freaked out, I’ll eat my shoes.”

Akane wanted to die. Wanted to deny it. Wanted to be angry. She wanted a lot of things. “I don’t like her like that!”

“It’s no big deal,” Nabiki said. “She’s hot. She likes martial arts. It makes sense.”

“I don’t like her like that,” Akane repeated, voice rising half an octave as panic set in.

“Sure you don’t,” Nabiki said.

“I like Dr. Tofu, Nabiki. I’m not gay!” Akane shrieked at her sister, spitting the last word like a curse.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know,” Nabiki said. “You can like her. Hell, you can like her and Dr. Tofu if you really want to.”

“That’s disgusting,” Akane said vehemently, shaking her head. “Girls shouldn’t like each other like that. It’s not normal.”

Nabiki gave her a look, but said nothing else on the subject, and Akane fumed as Nabiki brought them back to school. Her mind churned a mile a minute as she tried to compartmentalize what had happened that morning.

I’m not gay. I like men. I’m not gay. I like men. I’m not gay. I’m not gay. I’m not gay.

Akane chanted the words in her mind over and over again, until she mostly believed them.

“Well, let's go get detention,” Nabiki said as they walked into the school. “We missed class, so I’ll see you for chores after school I guess.”

Akane didn’t say anything, she just nodded and headed for her classroom, chanting her mantra in her head.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifteen

Men did not cry, or get their feelings hurt, or care when stupid, over emotional girls screamed at them. Well, Ranma did, but he was a fuckup anyway. And it wasn’t like his asshole father was around to beat him for failing to do something the masculine way. And basically nothing had gone in a masculine way today. From Akane’s teasing, to his stupid flip floppy emotions, to getting splashed, or wearing another man’s clothes while he dried off his fucking dress.

He didn’t really know what was worse, that it had happened at all, or that it had all seemed so entirely normal that it hadn’t really bothered him until Akane had freaked out and told him to get out of her life. 

He was annoying.  

He was in her way.

She didn’t want him around.

And that had hurt in a way that made it hard to breathe.

Once she’d screamed at him, he’d done what he had become so remarkably proficient at since that day in Jusenkyo. He ran. Ran as fast as he could away from the front gate and Akane. He crushed his school bag to his chest because if there wasn’t pressure there, he knew that pain in his chest would win. He didn’t want to go to class. Didn’t want to go inside. But he couldn’t… He just couldn’t be there. He was inside the school in the span of five seconds, trying desperately not to fall apart in front of so many people. He nearly crashed into his shoe locker, hands fumbling with the stupid combination lock while he tried to open the damn thing and ignore all of the talking around him.

“Did you see that Reiko girl this morning? She beat them all without even moving.”

His fingers trembled.

“It was totally awesome!”

He shakily spun the dial.

“She’s even scarier than Akane!”

He pulled on the latch.

“Way hotter, though.”

The lock wouldn’t open.

“You think Kuno will challenge her?”

Ranma bit back a whine as he yanked at the locker. His breathing was shallow and rapid.

“I can’t believe someone else can even fight like that.”

He tried the combination again.

“We should get her on the volleyball team.”

He growled at the locker that wouldn’t cooperate with his fucking demands.

“Nah, Tendo is super hot.”

He tried to force the fucking thing open.

“You think she’d go out with me?”

The little latch snapped back into place.

“Reiko or Akane?”

Ranma snarled and punched the locker. The bang echoed through the room, but nobody seemed to mind the loud noise as metal dented under his fist.

“Might have to fight her first, Yusuke.”

There was laughing. The boys were laughing. He glared at the dented metal, and noticed that his hand throbbed.

“Did you see them screaming at each other after?”

He punched the locker again. The pain gave him clarity.

“Now that’s a fight I’d want to see.”

He flexed his hand experimentally. It hurt and he kind of liked that.

“Maybe we can get them to mud wrestle or something.”

Breathing was getting really hard, and he looked around wildly looking for an escape. And then there was a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s the combination?” Nabiki asked, gently moving him aside.

He tried to shy away from her, but her grip on his shoulders was firm. Nabiki was surprisingly strong for someone who had little to no interest in martial arts. She gave him a look, eyebrow raised, and Ranma hung his head. He complied, mumbled the combination, and two seconds later, Nabiki was handing him his school shoes. “Here you go, Reiko.”

Words weren’t ready on his tongue, but he changed shoes all the same, and then waited for Nabiki to yell at him, too. He was surprised when she didn’t.

“You should get to class. I’m going to wait for Akane.”

Ranma didn’t need to be told twice. He took off. It would be best if he just stayed away from Akane like she wanted. Not that he could really avoid her. They were in the same class, and their desks were right next to one another. At the very least, they would have to exist in the same space— both here and at the dojo.

Unless they kicked him out, which would be their right. If Akane didn’t want him there anymore, they would, of course, take her side. It was stupid of him to have let his guard down. When class started, and Akane didn’t show, Ranma felt a pit settle in his stomach, and he blinked away the bitter tears that threatened to spill.

He didn’t focus on the lecture. 

He sat in class, eyes staring at nothing; notebook open on his desk. He held his pencil idly in one hand, but he’d managed not to take a single note. It was like he was frozen, unable to collect himself, or to focus.

All he could feel was self-loathing.

Not good enough.

Stupid.

‘You’re so annoying.’

Stupid.

Incompetent.

Stupid.

Feminine.

Stupid.

‘Just butt out of my business!’

When first period was finally, mercifully over, Ranma sagged in his seat and tried to ignore the chattering and rumors of his classmates. Most of it was innocent enough, but a few people were talking about the fight before school and speculating about Akane’s absence.

He needed a plan. His time at the Tendo Dojo was almost certainly coming to an end, and he needed money and a place to stay more permanently. In the worst case he could camp out again, and just swim back to China. They’d done it before, and he was sure he could do it again. Everything was easier in his smaller, faster, lighter body.

But who would just hire an idiot girl with no experience in anything? Not that he was a girl. But it’s what people would see.

“You feeling okay, Reiko?” Emi asked, shaking him from his thoughts.

He squeaked in surprise, nearly falling out of his seat. When had she moved from her seat by the window? It wasn’t like him not to notice things like that. Emi gasped in surprise and tried to help him upright.

“‘M’fine,” he mumbled, slipping around her outstretched hand.

Emi tilted her head to one side, watching him with concerned eyes. It didn’t really look like she believed him. “Well if you’re sure.”

He nodded. She didn't push the issue, and for that he was grateful. Instead, she plowed full speed ahead with her cheeriness. And hit him full force with a compliment that he really didn't want to hear.

“Your hair looks really good when you wear it down! It’s so bright and pretty.”

Ranma winced, and barely stopped himself from lashing out at the cheery girl. He wanted to scream and rage and tell her that he didn’t want his hair to be pretty. He wanted it to be functional and out of the way and not fucking red.

He needed to hit something again.

Just… he probably shouldn’t punch Emi. She was just being nice.

He dropped his head onto the desk so she couldn’t see his face.

“...thanks, Emi.”

She giggled and sat on the edge of his desk, kicking her legs while she talked at him. He really didn’t know why she bothered sometimes, he was terrible at talking. She talked a little bit about her morning, and the little bird's nest she’d seen on her walk to school. And then she was back onto the subject of the photography club. He let her words wash over him.

“I get to use the darkroom to develop my film later this week. You wanna come?” Emi asked, smiling bright. “You can see the photos I took of you.”

His face twisted into a pained frown and he closed his eyes, grateful that his cheek was mashed into the desk and his head was turned away from her. In that moment he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less than look at girly pictures of himself. “No thanks.”

Emi’s smile faltered for a second, and then returned full force. “Awww, come on. Reiko, I bet they look great.”

Ranma almost said yes. His mouth opened and acquiescence was on his tongue. And then all he could hear was Akane screaming at him for helping her. All he’d wanted to do was help. All he’d wanted to do was make sure she didn’t get hurt because she’d been so distracted by her stupid crush on that stupid, ugly doctor and his stupid, boring clinic. So what if he’d been a nice man? Ranma didn’t like him. Didn’t like the way Akane acted around him.

Something foreign and dark and ugly coiled in his belly, and he forced it back down.

He’d felt so good about helping her. About standing between her and danger and making sure she was safe. It had been a wonderful moment.

But the shouting had hammered something home. Ranma shouldn’t enjoy the same hobbies as other people in his life. If he went to see the photos with Emi, she would yell at him too. Because…

‘You’re so annoying.’

He closed his mouth and sighed. “I’ll just be in your way,” he said.

It had been silly to want Akane to see him fight. Silly to think she’d enjoy watching him fight the same way he liked watching her fight. 

Emi looked disappointed, but she didn’t push it any further. “Well, if you change your mind let me know. I have the room on Friday.” She smiled at him again, and she slid off his desk and went back to her seat.

Seeing Emi sad made him feel like shit, too. She was always so nice and cheerful. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, let her in the same way he’d let Akane in. 

He was grateful when class started, because he didn’t have to talk to anyone. But he still didn’t take any notes.

Akane returned to the room ten minutes into second period, glaring at anyone who had the misfortune to make eye contact with her. She stomped to her seat and Ranma hunched his shoulders and studiously looked anywhere but at her.

He tried to take notes, but he wasn’t paying enough attention. He kept his body angled just enough so that he couldn’t see Akane’s face. He could feel her looking at him. Probably glaring. He wanted to curl up and die. When the lecture ended, Ranma zipped out of the room before Akane could so much as open her mouth.

He didn’t want to see her anger. Didn’t want to hear her talk to Yuka and Sayuri about how he’d overstepped. Didn’t want to be forced out of her friend group. He’d just leave on his own. It would hurt less that way.

Ranma returned to class for third period, and then took off at the first ring off the lunch bell. He left his book bag and his bento behind. He was so far away from feeling hungry that it didn’t even cross his mind. He needed to be away from people. Away from the battle he was fighting within himself between wanting to cry, to run, to lash out and hit something.

He hid between a couple of vending machines at the end of the third floor hallway, where nobody seemed to go because it was faster to take the main stairs than the ones at the end of the hall. And that suited Ranma just fine.

Tucking his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around his shins, he pressed his forehead into the tops of his knees and blinked at the angry tears that he really didn’t feel like dealing with. His loose hair curtained around him and created a shield from the outside world.

Crying was weak. A waste of time. 

Men didn’t cry, he reminded himself. Men didn’t need friends. Men—

“There you are, pigtailed girl. I have been looking for you.”

Ranma blinked and rubbed his face on his skirt to remove any moisture that may have escaped his eyes. He looked up to see, of all people, Kuno standing in front of him, bokken held idly in one hand. He was, somehow, wearing his stupid kendo outfit. Ranma wondered if the guy wore the thing during class.

“What do you want,” he said with a glower.

“Tales of your conquest on the battlefield have reached my ears, and I have come to verify such rumors for myself.” He was smirking at her, looking as cocky and confident as ever.

“So, what, you wanna fight?” Ranma asked, getting to his feet in one smooth motion.

“I do indeed, fair maiden. I shall challenge you and discover for myself if you are worthy to protect Akane Tendo’s chastity. For such—” Breath exploded from his lungs as Ranma drove a fist into his gut. The bokken clattered to the floor, as Kuno staggered backwards, clutching his stomach. This, he could do. Fighting made sense. There was a flow to it, a natural way of things that were irrefutable. He wouldn’t have to think about his feelings while he was fighting. And if Tatewaki Kuno wanted to volunteer as a punching bag, who was Ranma to say no?

He felt more free than he had since that day.

He shoved past Kuno and took up a fighting stance, back to the rest of the hallway, and gestured for the older boy to pick up his stick. “Well come on then. Let’s fight!”

Lunchtime was Nabiki’s favorite part of the day. It was when she got a majority of her business done at school, though a close second was the homeroom period. When the students had idle free time, there was always someone who needed something done. And Nabiki was the person who got them done, for a price. She grinned as she flipped through the wad of yen that had been passed her way. “Looks like it’s all here.” She tucked the yen into her pocket and slid a folded piece of paper across to the boy, Shinta Fukuhara, that sat across from her.

His eyes lit up as he unfolded it, and he bowed gratefully. “Thank you, Nabiki Tendo! Now I can finally ask her out.”

She rolled her eyes. Boys. All of them were morons. “You could have done that before you knew what her favorite flowers and chocolates were, you dolt.” Still, she took his request to dig out the information— which earned her a pretty commission. She wasn’t going to turn down money.

“How did you do it?” He asked, reverently, eyes glued to the folded paper.

She waved her hand and shot him a smug grin. “I have my sources.”

I asked her, dumbass. And she was so excited that the boy she liked wanted to know, too.

“You really are some kind of miracle worker,” Shinta said.

“I must be,” Nabiki agreed. Or maybe she just did what needed doing for the right price. And if she kept her ear to the ground for rumors to exploit… well that was her business.

There was a loud shout in the hallway, and then footsteps, crashing sounds, and a grunt of pain. A blur of red shot past the window, followed by a flash of blue. 

The door rocketed open a few seconds later with a loud bang, and the boy that Reiko had put in the nurse’s office with his own bat that morning, Shinji Nakamura, looked into the room. He was panting, eyes glazed with excitement and grinning from ear to ear.

“Kuno’s fighting Saotome!” He declared and then bolted off to the next classroom. There was a single, blissful moment of complete silence as everyone digested the information. Quick as a lightning bolt, the entire class was on their feet and flooding into the hallway or out onto the balcony that ran around the second floor of the school. 

That was an unexpected thing for Shinji to announce, but certainly something useful to her. Given how things had gone that morning, she’d been much more inclined to bet on Reiko ditching class, or hiding out somewhere until school was over. But a throw down with the captain of the kendo club? Now that was a surprise.

Even if Nabiki knew that Reiko was an excellent fighter, she hadn’t gone around picking fights. Which meant one of two things. Either Reiko was lashing out and Kuno was the punching bag, or Kuno had heard what happened, and was doing the same thing to Reiko that he did to Akane. 

And in either case, there was an opportunity here. Nabiki could imagine the cash flowing into her pockets now. She stood up on the seat of her chair and shouted over the excited roar of the students. “I’ll take bets on the outcome here! Cash up front. Spread the word!”

And the flood of students slapping money on her desk and screaming about who would win nearly toppled her over after that, but she took it in stride, and by the time everyone had gone off to watch the fight, Nabiki had an entire desk covered in stacks of cash from hastily cast bets. 

She shoved everything into a little metal box she kept in her bag, shouldered it, and set off to see the fight for herself.

It was easy enough to figure out where things were about to go down. Or rather, where the fight had taken them, because as she shoved her way through the massive crowd that had assembled, it became very clear that they’d already exchanged blows.

Reiko stood on the open patch of ground in front of the school, hands behind her back and a deceptively cute smile on her face. Her uniform was spotless, and she was standing, calm and still as ever.

Kuno, on the other hand, was breathing hard, and there was a bruise rapidly forming on the right side of his face. He held his bokken in front of them, eyes blazing in determination.

Nabiki made it to the front of the crowd just as things settled down between them. The murmurs from the students were rippling through the school grounds. She shouldered her way around several boys that were rapidly whispering about what had, apparently, just happened in the fight, and made her way to Akane, who was watching the proceedings with a grimace firmly set on her face.

“Hey,” Nabiki said, drawing up beside her sister.

“Hey,” Akane said, not taking her eyes off the fight, even though there was a lull in the action.

“You okay?” Nabiki asked, bumping her shoulder into Akane’s.

“...No.” Akane said. Well, at least her little sister wasn’t hiding her feelings.

“This fight or the one from earlier?” Nabiki asked, crossing her arms and waiting for the action to pick back up. There was a lot of money on this fight.

Akane sighed. “This one… well, no, it’s— both, neither, I don’t know.”

“Oh, well that clears everything up, thank you,” Nabiki said sarcastically.

“It’s Kuno,” Akane said, narrowing her eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous about this ?” Nabiki asked.

Akane blanched, and looked away from Reiko and Kuno— finally. “No. They can kill each other for all I care,” she snapped.

“Yeah, you’re clearly doing very well,” Nabiki said. 

A breeze came through the crowd, rustling Reiko’s skirt and hair as she stared down Kuno. And then they were moving again. It was all lightning fast, and Nabiki could barely follow along. Kuno’s bokken flashed forward too many times to count, and every time it looked like the upperclassman was going to land a blow, Reiko would sort of shimmer. Nabiki didn’t know how else to describe it. It was like one second Reiko was there, about to be hit by the sword, and the next, she was gone. And she looked so calm about it, too.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Nabiki saw Akane’s fists clench.

“You wanna tell me what’s got you so on edge, little sister?” Nabiki asked as Reiko ducked under a particularly ferocious looking slash. She spun on her heel and extended one leg up, her foot caught Kuno in the chin and he was lifted off his feet. The crowd went wild.

“They’re too fast,” Akane ground out through clenched teeth.

“What do you mean?” Kuno had recovered from Reiko’s kick, and was advancing again, sword held in a more defensive grip. “Don’t you kick the crap out of Kuno like three times a week?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Akane hissed. “Kuno has never moved that fast when we fight. And Reiko’s making him look like an amateur.” As if to illustrate her point, Reiko dodged another strike by bending backwards at the waist and putting her palms flat on the ground. She kicked the sword out of Kuno’s hand while doing a kickover. The core strength and flexibility required were insane. Her other foot caught Kuno square in the chest. The crowd gasped and cheered.

Kuno staggered away from Reiko, eyes fixed on his sword as it arced through the air. He moved to catch it, and instead caught a fist to the face. The bokken clattered to the ground and Kuno slumped backwards a moment later. Nabiki had just made more money in the last ten minutes than she had all of the previous semester. It was marvelous. Reiko was going to be her ticket to the big-time.

Reiko stood there, grinning like mad at her downed opponent. “Too slow!” 

Kuno, dazed, was covered in dirt and more than a couple of bruises, and Reiko looked like she hadn’t even broken a sweat. Her hair danced around her face in the breeze and her uniform followed, but she was completely untouched.

Akane snarled, and Nabiki thought she understood. Reiko was clearly leagues more skilled than either Akane or Kuno. But the thing that really seemed to set her sister off was that Kuno had been holding back when they fought in the mornings— so Akane said. Her hard fought victories had been a lie— so Akane said. 

The implication Akane made was that Kuno likely could have defeated her whenever he wanted, but for some reason chose not to. Nabiki filed that away for future use. She reached down to Akane’s clenched fist, and gave her sister’s hand a gentle squeeze. Akane had been on edge all day, she knew, and this wasn’t helping.

“Come on. No use worrying about it. He hasn’t beat you yet. No reason to think he will now.” If anything, Nabiki figured that her constant practicing with Reiko in the dojo would give Akane an even bigger edge when she fought Kuno.

Akane yanked her hand away. “But I’ve never beaten him, Nabiki! Don’t you get it? It’s all fake. All of it.” Akane turned and fled into the crowd.

Nabiki followed. The money would have to wait. It took a bit of awkward jostling to shove the cheering, screaming, jumping buffoons out of her way enough to clear the onlookers, but she did manage it. As she cleared the crowd, she spotted Akane ducking around the corder of the school building, heading towards the athletic fields. Nabiki had to run to catch up.

“Akane, wait!” Nabiki called after her sister, though Akane either didn’t care or didn’t hear, and continued her trek to wherever it was she was going. Not that Nabiki really intended on letting her get there, because Akane could sulk. If it were an olympic sport, she suspected her sister would take home a gold for Japan. 

She picked up her pace once she, too, was around the building and absolutely sure that none of her classmates were going to see her giving a shit about something. When they were near an old storage shed that the baseball team used, her hand caught Akane’s arm and she spun her sister around to face her. Akane’s face was twisted with rage and jealousy and barely concealed hurt that ran a lot deeper than learning you were the third best at something.

Her rage gave way to despair and her face crumpled. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and Nabiki caught her up in a hug before she could run away. Akane shook with all the emotions she was currently trying not to feel. And that wouldn’t do. Akane had some anger issues, Nabiki knew, but she’d been doing really well since Reiko had come to live with them. It was like having another girl who really understood her had given Akane an outlet she hadn’t previously had access to. The only problem was… now her baby sister was mooning over her friend. And Reiko turned into a dysfunctional klutz whenever she was in the same room as Akane.

Sure, it was cute and all, but Nabiki didn’t know if she could handle two emotionally repressed lesbians living in her house at the same time. She didn’t do feelings, and helping them figure out they liked each other seemed like way too much work. She knew she was in for a dreadfully long period of awkward flirting and fights between the girls as they got over their shit long enough to actually fucking talk to each other, which, given how Reiko was about literally everything, and how Akane had acted earlier that day— was going to be the longest will-they-won’t-they in history.

They would, of course, Nabiki figured. Eventually.

“It’s okay, baby sister. I got you,” Nabiki whispered in her ear. Akane held out for two deep, shuddering breaths before the waterworks started.

“How come I’m not good enough?” Akane whimpered into Nabiki’s shoulder. Where was that coming from? Was what had happened that morning really affecting her so badly? Was Akane so entirely uncomfortable with the idea that she might like Reiko as more than a friend more than she could deal with?

“Who said you aren’t good enough?” Nabiki asked, voice soft and gentle.

Akane’s hands gripped desperately at Nabiki’s uniform. “Nobody takes me seriously.” Well that wasn’t true at all. Nabiki knew Akane always had her back— had sicced her sister on people multiple times. There were hordes of boys that were over the moon for her. Reiko practically worshiped the ground she walked on, and had on more than one occasion, stopped what she was doing to go for a run or out to the dojo with Akane. And despite whatever oddities their fights technically were, Kuno did like Akane. Nabiki sat next to him in class. The idiot undeniably had a crush on her.

“That’s not true, Akane,” Nabiki said, running her fingers through Akane’s hair. 

“Kuno doesn’t. He fakes our fights. Dr. Tofu treats me like a kid. Kasumi doesn’t let me help in the kitchen. Daddy won’t teach me martial arts anymore. Mom’s gone… and… and… Reiko…” Akane wailed and clung to Nabiki for dear life, and Nabiki held onto Akane as tight as she could. It would be time for words later. After Akane had cried it out, and after they’d both been assigned detention for the second time that day, because the bell that signaled lunch break was over was ringing, and Nabiki had no intentions of letting go of Akane any time soon.

Chapter Text

Chapter Sixteen

Reiko had disappeared the second the bell rang. She’d managed to avoid Akane the entire day in a truly impressive display of vanishing as soon as the school bell rang. Every attempt to locate Reiko during their breaks between classes had been fruitless, and Akane felt a horrible gnawing fear growing in her gut.

Akane begged off going out with Yuka and Sayuri after school, because that sick-to-her-stomach feeling wouldn’t go away, and she couldn’t muster up the willpower to fake a smile and stop for ice cream or okonomiyaki or ramen or whatever they would want to do. She wanted to curl up into a ball and die, but she wanted to punch something more. Throughout the day her emotions had swung wildly from anger to confusion to fear and she was exhausted.

She was just going to go home and do her homework and hide in her room. She could just pretend it hadn’t happened.

Akane trudged through the halls, lost in her whirlwind of thoughts and not really seeing where she was going. Her feet carried her through the school almost robotically and she found that she didn’t really want to go home, either. She stood at the front doors of the school, and how had she even gotten there? The last thing she’d paid attention to was the scuff on the top of the second floor staircase.

For a long minute, Akane stared at the open space in front of the school. The fight from earlier that morning replayed in her mind over and over again while she stood there, and she saw Reiko, moving as if possessed to make sure not a single strike got past her. Akane hadn’t lifted a finger. But she had freaked out after. And then again at lunch.

And Nabiki, ever the observant devil, had confronted her for the second time that day. 

She’d missed another class after lunch, sitting behind the old storage shed, and letting Nabiki talk her through the same damn conversation they’d had that morning. It had been more of an argument than a discussion.

‘There’s nothing wrong with it you know, you can like her.’

‘She’s hot. She likes martial arts. It makes sense.’

Nabiki’s words had rattled around in her head all day, but she didn’t believe them. Couldn’t believe them. Girls who liked other girls were outcasts. They got bullied, and called names, and they didn’t get to play sports or attend school events. And it was because girls who liked other girls were wrong.

At least, that’s what Akane told herself.

Because the butterflies in her tummy insisted something very different was true. The way her breath had caught in her throat when she’d seen Reiko changing, hair still damp from the water… She pressed a hand to her stomach and forced them away. 

Why was this happening? 

“Hey, Akane!” She turned to see Emi, waving at her and smiling. Emi was always smiling. The girl was unfailingly cheery, and Akane found her happiness to be annoying and offensive given the circumstances. Couldn’t she tell that Akane wasn’t in the mood? Happiness was overrated. 

“What is it, Emi?” Akane said, trying to keep herself from growling.

Emi stopped beside her, clasping her hands behind her back and rocking back and forth on her feet. Akane wished she’d stop smiling. “Have you seen Reiko? I wanted to see if she wanted to go out.”

Akane’s world imploded. Emi what? How dare she? Emi had no right to— she clenched her fist and forced a smile to her lips, though the tightness of her jaw made it more like she was baring her fangs at her classmate. 

“Why do you want to do that?” Akane ground out through her clenched teeth.

She tilted her head to the side and gave Akane a questioning look. “You saw her today, didn’t you? She looked sad. I thought she might want to go and do something fun and talk about it.” Her eyes lit up and she tapped a fist into the palm of one hand, as if coming to a realization. “Did you want to come? You’re like, her best friend, right?”

And Akane deflated. She hadn’t meant to ask Reiko out like that. She just wanted to spend time with a friend. Of course. Emi just wanted to check on Reiko, which was so unfailingly in character for her. Emi was like a little ray of sunshine, and for some reason that kind of pissed her off. 

She sighed. “I have no idea where she is, Emi.”

Emi looked disappointed.

Good.

“That’s too bad. I really thought it would be fun.” She slumped her shoulders, maybe a little bit too dramatically, and then she perked right back up. “Oh, well! I’ll just have to try again tomorrow!” 

Emi’s bright mood and exuberant personality darkened Akane’s own sour disposition. They stared at one another, awkward silence stretching out between them. Emi seemed to consider something, eyes searching for something on Akane’s face. “Did you want to go do something? You look like you could use a distraction, too.”

Akane wanted to go home and mope. Wanted to think girly thoughts about Dr. Tofu. Wanted… she groaned and hung her head.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Emi whooped, and Akane glared at her back as she took off, giggling. Akane followed, frowning. 

I should have just gone with Yuka and Sayuri. Maybe they’d bump into one another. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with little miss sunshine by herself if that happened. Akane liked Emi well enough, but they didn’t have anything in common. 

“Did you see Reiko fight upperclassman Kuno during our lunch break today?” Emi asked. She was humming and had stopped to look at the flowers that were blooming as spring warmed up. Akane’s grip tightened on her school bag. Of course she had seen. She’d watched as Reiko and Kuno humiliated her in front of the entire school.

“I did,” Akane said curtly.

Emi stood up from the flowers she’d been examining. “Wasn’t she amazing? The way she beat him without getting hit? She made it look easy!” She giggled and struck a sloppy martial arts pose. Some bastardization of Jeet Kune Do, Akane thought. She’d probably seen a Bruce Lee movie recently. 

And Reiko had made it look easy. Because for her it likely had been. Kuno wasn’t a threat to her. 

Akane’s nose wrinkled. 

“She did,” Akane agreed, words clipped and terse. And though she didn’t say it, it had been amazing. Reiko was amazing.

Emi started walking again, and Akane resigned herself to a shitty afternoon. She wanted to go home and curl up on her bed more than she wanted to spend time with Emi. But she wanted to avoid Reiko even more.

“I wish I could do that kind of stuff,” Emi said.

Akane glanced her way, seeing her wistful expression. “What stuff?”

Emi’s eyes sparkled. “The superhero stuff you and Reiko can do! It’s like Super Sentai or… or… Dragon Ball or something. I mean, who can fight like thirty boys at the same time? It’s so cool!”

Akane couldn’t help it, she smiled. Emi was an unstoppable force when it came to happiness. “I guess it is pretty cool.”

Emi clapped her hands and giggled and beamed at Akane. “I got you to smile!”

Akane made a noncommittal noise, and discomfort fluttered in her chest. 

Kuno can beat me whenever he wants.

They walked out of the residential part of town, and onto a street where many shops were frequented by students after school. She saw uniforms from the local elementary and junior high schools mixed in with the blue and white of the Furinkan uniform. She recognized several of her classmates, and a few of the upperclassmen from Nabiki’s class. Yuka and Sayuri were nowhere to be seen.

Emi dragged her to a small café, and Akane resigned herself to another hour of being talked at. 

“So how long have you been training to be a ninja?” Emi asked after she ordered tea and a baked somethingorother, Akane hadn’t paid much attention after she’d just asked for a glass of water.  

“Huh?” A ninja? What? “I started learning martial arts when I was a little kid.” Being a ninja had nothing to do with it, even if she probably could scale a building if she put her mind to it. Akane’s eyes scanned the buildings across the street from the café, and she decided the little arcade was probably her best bet. And then she shook her head. What was she doing? Why was she even entertaining the thought?

“You must be a total pro by now,” Emi said.

“Not really,” Akane disagreed. 

“You could have fooled me,” Emi said. “Does Reiko study at the same ninja school?” 

Akane ground her teeth together. “We are at the same dojo. But technically, no.”

Emi giggled. “That doesn’t make any sense, you know. If you are at the same ninja dojo, isn’t the same?”

“It has nothing to do with being a ninja!” Akane snapped. “And we have different teachers, from different martial arts styles.”

Emi held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Not the same ninja dojo. I get it.”

Akane sighed. She’d been doing that a lot today. “We practice together sometimes,” she admitted. “She’s way better at it than me, so I’m always trying to learn from her.” She didn’t know why she volunteered the information to Emi. Maybe it was because Emi was a really good people person. Maybe it was because Akane felt bad for being rude to her. Maybe talking about Reiko in a neutral setting would make her feel better. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

‘I think her hair came out when you pinned her against a building and kissed the living daylights out of her.’

She clenched her fist again. She did not want to kiss Reiko. 

Even if her lips did look really soft.

“I bet that’s fun! I don’t really have a best friend who shares my hobby,” Emi said, eyes far away all of a sudden. But she was still smiling, if a bit more wistfully than before. “The other girls in the photography club are nice, don’t get me wrong, but I’m new to Nerima. And my best friend in the whole world lives all the way in Sendai.”

“I thought you were in my graduating class at the junior high school,” Akane said. The server dropped off Akane’s water and Emi’s tea and sweet bun.

“I was,” Emi said, leaning down and inhaling the aroma of her tea. “Daddy moved for work in the middle of the school year.”

That must have been hard. Moving away from all of her friends like that. And now that Akane thought about it, Emi was friendly with everyone, but she bounced between social circles like a rabbit. Akane had thought she preferred it that way, except it was exceedingly clear that Emi was just looking for a place to belong. To fit in.

And if that wasn’t a familiar plight, she didn’t know what was.

Akane, ever the tomboy, had always had a tough time making friends. That was why she was so grateful to Yuka and Sayuri for basically adopting her into their confidence.

She’d tried to do the same thing for Reiko.

And instead she’d blown up at her.

She needed to get over her weird emotions. She needed to do better.

Akane extended an olive branch, because she didn’t know what else to do, and because she was currently standing in a really deep hole of self-loathing and she wanted to climb out of it. “You could maybe come and do a photo shoot of the dojo, if you wanted.”

“Really? You mean it?” Emi was practically vibrating with excitement. Akane nodded. “That sounds so cool! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” And then Emi was leaning across the table and glomping her in an impressively bone-crushing bear hug. 

“Emi… air…” 

“Right, sorry!” 

Emi returned to her seat, sipping her tea and taking a bite of her bun.

“So what’s the dojo like?” Emi asked.

Akane shrugged. “It’s mostly quiet. The school has been closed since… since I was little.”

“But you said you practiced with Reiko,” Emi said. 

“I do,” said Akane. “My family owns the dojo. It is… was my dad’s school. But he doesn’t teach anymore. So Reiko and I can use the dojo whenever we want. It’s on our property.”

“Why’d he stop?” Emi asked. 

Akane grimaced. She never really talked about it. The only people it was ever brought up around were Nabiki and Kasumi, and even then it was only when their dad was well out of earshot. Mostly it was on their birthdays, or the anniversary of her passing. Those days were always the hardest.

“My… uh… my mom.” Akane sipped her water, suddenly feeling as if her mouth was very dry. “My mom died when I was eight.” She squeezed her eyes shut and let the heartache wash over her— it came every time she thought about her mom. It passed quickly, that rising panic and wild, raw hurt. It passed and left a dull ache deep in her chest. A place that would never be whole again. She took a breath. “She passed away and dad closed the dojo. I don’t think he could handle living his life the way he had before.”

Emi’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry, Akane. I shouldn’t have asked.” She sniffled.

Akane sipped her water again and waited for that lump in her throat to ease up. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. I don’t really talk about it.”

“Does it… does it get easier?” Emi was fiddling with the half eaten bun on her plate. She seemed more sad than she should be that Akane’s mom was gone. Like a weight was crushing her from all sides. And then…

‘Daddy moved for work in the middle of the school year.’

“Your mom passed away, too.” It wasn’t a question.

Emi sniffled again. “Yeah… two years ago. Car accident.”

She knew that pain. That blind, wild, all consuming ache that made you numb and caused you agony at the same time. Emi hid her hurt behind smiles and laughter and joy. It was different than Akane hiding hers behind her ability to fight and take a hit and be angry. But it was the same, too.

Akane reached across the little café table and took Emi’s hand, squeezing it gently. “It doesn’t get easier, no. And it doesn’t hurt less, either.” Emi choked on a sob and covered her mouth with her free hand. “But… it’s like being adrift in the ocean. At first there are these huge waves, and they’re crashing on you one after the other and you don’t have time to swim to the surface. You don’t have time to catch your breath or grab onto something to keep you afloat.” Akane’s voice cracked and tears spilled down her cheeks. 

“And that part is the hardest. It’s not forever, even though it is. Eventually the waves get farther and farther apart. And some days the water is clear and you can think about it without it drowning you. You can remember the happy parts instead of the parts that hurt.” She wiped her eyes. “And other days, there are waves. Those don’t get any smaller, even if they don’t crash down as often.”

Emi wiped her eyes, and took a few really deep breaths. And Akane realized that they did have something in common after all.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seventeen

Kasumi was in the entryway taking her shoes off when Akane came home. Her youngest sister didn’t say anything, but Kasumi clocked the physical tells of distress right away. She could see that Akane’s eyes were red and puffy, could see the tracks of hastily wiped away tears. Akane had had a day. And, strangely, Reiko wasn’t with her. The two had been nigh inseparable since they’d met.

She opened her mouth to speak, but something in the set of her sister’s shoulders and the way her jaw was clenched told Kasumi to save it for another time. Instead, she just gave Akane a warm smile and let her pass and go up to her room. They’d talk about it when Akane was feeling a little better. And it would be dealt with then.

Where Kasumi hid all of her hurts behind caring for her family, and Nabiki hid behind pretending she didn’t care and doing everything in her power to make her peers believe that, Akane hid behind being strong, but that came with a disclaimer.

Of the three of them, Akane was the one who wore her emotions most openly, and that was a wonderful thing. Kasumi wished she was a little better at expressing her emotions— especially when she was upset. Even though Akane was the toughest sister by a mile, she also wore her heart on her sleeve and let her feelings fly free. It just made Akane more susceptible to bad days. Days where all of her big feelings got to be just a little too much. 

And Kasumi always did her best to make sure those bad days were few and far between. But she couldn’t be there twenty four hours a day.

She stretched and shuffled into the hall. She was tired from being out all day, but that didn’t mean that the house was going to clean itself, or that dinner would miraculously be made. No, her duties at home still needed to be taken care of.

It had been a long time since she’d spent all day out of the house, and the pile of chores she still had to do now loomed over her head.

Applying for jobs locally had taken the majority of her day, but she was hopeful that she’d hear back soon. Many of the shop owners nearby seemed as though they were eager to hire her, and she could work while her sisters (and Reiko) were at school. And once she had some steady income, there would be no need to stress about paying all of their bills and taking on the extra expenses of their new house guest.

With a yawn, she went up to her room to put her purse down and take a minute to muster up the willpower to cook dinner, start the laundry, and sweep the floor. In the sanctuary of her bedroom, she put her purse on her desk, and put her jacket back onto its designated hanger in the wardrobe. 

What she really wanted to do was flop onto her bed and read some more of that book she’d borrowed from Dr. Tofu. But she knew that wasn’t in the cards for her tonight. She went to the laundry room first, sorting the dark clothes from the whites and things that needed to be hand washed, and put a load of laundry into the washer. 

Nabiki poked her head into the laundry room, giving her one of those smirks that meant she was up to something. “You got a sec?”

Kasumi nodded, clasping her hands in front of herself and giving her sister a warm smile. “Always, Nabiki.”

Nabiki entered the room and shut the door behind her. She was already out of her school uniform, and was now wearing a tank top and a pair of denim shorts. “Akane and Reiko got into an argument today,” Nabiki said. She rolled her eyes. “And it’s over something really stupid, too.”

Well, that certainly explained that. Kasumi had seen the aftermath on Akane’s face. She certainly didn’t like the idea of her little sisters fighting with each other. “Do I need to talk with them?”

Nabiki shrugged at that. “I think it’ll work itself out— eventually. I’m a little worried that it will take a while, given Akane’s tendency to overreact to things. And Reiko’s issues with, well, literally everything. But…” And then she fished a stack of yen out of her pocket. “A little birdie tells me they were planning to go out with their friends this weekend. I’d like to make a… donation to their spending money.”

Kasumi eyed the wad of cash. It was very unlike Nabiki to just hand over money, but it was very much in character for her to stick her nose into Akane’s business. She sighed. “Nabiki, past experience with you would seem to indicate an ulterior motive.”

Nabiki had the audacity to laugh, covering her mouth with one hand and giggling. “I guess you could call it that, but it’s not malicious. I promise. It’s… They’re in a spat because they like each other too much, if you catch my meaning, and I figure that if they have a good time together this weekend, maybe they’ll make up.”

Kasumi did not, in fact, catch her meaning. How could the two girls, obviously friends, like each other too much? “I don’t think I follow. In any case, I’ll happily pass the money along to them when they go out this—” And then it clicked. When they go out. “Oh… oh!” She put her hands to her cheeks, smile splitting her face from ear to ear. “But that’s so cute!”

Nabiki was smiling, too. And then she said something remarkably touchy-feely, for her, at least. “It is, isn’t it? Like almost too much.”

“They’re already glued together at the hip,” Kasumi said. “I’ve never seen Akane get along so well with someone.” They basically did everything together, exercise, martial arts training, school, homework, just sitting and chatting when they had a free moment, and it was like that was how things were supposed to be.

Nabiki nodded, sticking her hands into her pockets. “I think Akane sort of realized she liked Reiko as maybe more than a friend today, and it scared the hell out of her.” She picked at the hem of her shirt. “And Akane has some issues with her public image because of how those boys at school treat her every morning.”

Kasumi nodded along. She certainly sympathized with Akane, though she didn’t really understand. When she’d been at the school no such fighting had taken place, and if it had, she liked to believe the school faculty would put a stop to it. The fact that Akane had to deal with it on a daily basis challenged that belief.

And it was affecting how her baby sister saw herself.

It just wouldn’t do. Kasumi would have to speak with the administration. Enough was enough.

“Does Reiko feel the same way, do you think?” Kasumi asked, mind already sorting and organizing the bullet points she’d use to craft her argument to stop those silly fights. Something she should have done a long time ago.

“Are you kidding?” Nabiki laughed, deep in her chest. “Have you seen how clumsy she is around Akane? How much she’s always blushing and stuttering?”

“I guess that’s true, but Reiko does that with everyone,” Kasumi said.

“At first, maybe. Reiko can talk to me and you just fine. Not that she says much… but with Akane it’s like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Like you said. Cute.” Nabiki grinned at her.

“Don’t force them into anything, Nabiki. They could get hurt,” Kasumi said.

“I won’t. I’m not.” She held up her hands. “I’m just making sure they can have a good time. If they work their shit out, great. If not, there’s always next time.”

Kasumi nodded. “Okay, I believe you.” She pocketed the money Nabiki had given her. “Thanks for telling me, Nabiki. And thanks for looking out for Akane— for both of them, really.”

“Say nothing of it,” Nabiki said. 

Nabiki left the laundry room, and Kasumi followed. Despite her more than interesting conversation, there was still dinner to make. She headed down the stairs.

She smelled it first, roasting garlic and ginger, and then she heard the sizzle of something being placed into a frying pan. Kasumi poked her head around the corner and saw her father standing in front of the stove, his back to her. The rice cooker was turned on, she could see the steam rising into the air.

“Father?” Kasumi asked. “What are you doing?”

Soun turned around at the sound of her voice, and his face broke into a wide grin. “Welcome home Kasumi. How was your day?”

She glanced between him and the stove, unsure of what to do (or what he wanted). She couldn’t even remember the last time he’d cooked a meal. It had been years.

“It was good, father. I applied for some jobs in town. What are you doing?” She repeated her question, unable to focus on anything but the wondrously strange sight of her dad cooking dinner. Just what was going on today? Nabiki being generous, Akane having a crush, and now this. It was too much.

He glanced back at the stove, where the breaded meat sizzled merrily in a pan, and then back to Kasumi. “You were out all day, daughter. I wanted to take over on dinner tonight, so you didn’t have to worry about it. Why don’t you just take a seat and talk with your old man while he makes chicken katsu.”

Kasumi blinked. What had gotten into him? Did he even know how to make chicken katsu?

“Are you sure?” Kasumi asked.

“Of course I’m sure, Kasumi. You do so much around the house already, and I fear I’ve been negligent in supporting you.” He flipped the chicken over, and the sizzling sounds grew louder for a moment. He hummed in satisfaction as he examined the golden brown crust on the chicken.

Kasumi felt a swell of emotions rise up in her, and a pang of something deep in her heart. She suddenly felt like she needed a moment, or else she’d cry right there. Because, for all she put on a brave face, taking care of her father and sisters was hard, and she didn’t have anyone to take care of her most days. So seeing her dad, smiling, cooking dinner— or willfully talking about mom as he had done just a few days ago, stirred long repressed emotions.

Taking a seat at the small table in the corner, which was uncharacteristically covered in papers. Kasumi waited until her father was checking on the chicken and stirring up sauce in the saucepan before she surreptitiously wiped the corners of her eyes.

“You were out applying for jobs today? Tell me about it.” Soun said. He was still focused on the frying pan, but something in the way he stood told her all of his attention was on her.

“Yes, father,” Kasumi said, idly playing with the corner of one of the papers. “I thought it might be nice for us to have a little extra money, now that we’re taking care of Reiko. Our budget is very tight, and the girls will need clothes and spending money.” 

Soun hummed his agreement. “Yes, yes I daresay they will.” The rice cooker’s bell dinged, and Soun started pulling pieces of fried chicken out of the pan before adding more. The sizzling resumed in earnest. “Was there any place in particular you wanted to work?”

Kasumi shook her head. “Oh, no, any place is fine. I stopped by lots of nearby restaurants and cafés, as well as that little manga shop that Akane likes. All of them are walkable from here.”

“Kasumi,” Soun said, his voice sounded strained somehow. “I think… I think it’s beautiful how much you love your sisters, and how much you want to take care of them.” He turned from the stove to face her. “I’m really very proud of you.”

Her face flushed, and she looked away from him. She wasn’t used to him being so openly affectionate and open about his emotions. Weepy, certainly. But usually very tight lipped and sad. This was different. Welcome, but different. Kasumi’s eyes trailed over the papers on the table while she tried to think of something to say.

Business Operation Permit the top paper read in big, bolded letters. Her eyes scanned the paper. It was filled out in her father’s neat handwriting.

She gasped. “Father! Is this a business license application?” Her hands were shaking as she held it up.

“It does appear to be so,” Soun said, voice light and casual. “I was looking at our expenses myself, recently. You’re right, things are a little tight. And… in light of recent events, I thought it might be time to reopen the dojo and provide properly for you girls.”

Kasumi couldn’t contain the happy squeal that escaped her lips, or the overwhelming urge to get up from her seat and glomp onto her father in a bear hug. “That’s so exciting!” She all but ran across the kitchen and threw her arms around her father, squeezing him tight. He staggered slightly from the force of her hug-tackle, but he took it in stride, chuckling.

He hugged her back. And Kasumi thought it might have been the best feeling ever. Because it was warm and firm and not borne of grief for once. It was the first time in a long time they were hugging because they were happy.

“I’ve let you down long enough, Kasumi. None of the things you’ve taken on these past seven years should have ever been put on your shoulders.” He smiled down at her with watery eyes. “So, if you want to get a job and save up some money of your own, then please do so. But why don’t you let me handle the bills? The dojo will be open again in a week or two, and once we have some students, we’ll have more than enough money.”

“I don’t know what else I’d do,” Kasumi said. “Akane and Nabiki don’t need me as much as they did a few years ago. So maybe having a job will be nice.”

He scanned her face, and looked deep into her eyes. He was looking for something, though she didn’t know what. “Did you still want to go to college?”

Kasumi’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t dared let herself dream of it. And coming to terms with it had been horrible. But… chasing a dream, one that belonged to her and her alone, was a nice thought. Kasumi nodded, albeit hesitantly.

“I’d have to study for the first-stage exam,” she said. “I never took it after high school.” And she didn’t know if she was up for it. She’d been out of school for over a year now. The gaps in her knowledge would be enormous. And then there were the costs. It would be an enormous amount of yen.

“You graduated top of your class, Kasumi. A little exam like that wouldn’t stand a chance against you.” He extricated himself from her grip, turned off the stove, and started dishing up dinner.

She blushed and preened at her father’s praise. “Thank you, father. But if I want to go to a university, I think I will get that job. College won’t pay for itself.” And then she hesitated. “But if I’m busy with work and studying for the exam, I won’t be able to do as much around the house.”

He chuckled. “You just go and chase your dream. I’ll talk to the girls about splitting up the housework. And I’ll be around to lend a hand.” Soun started taking their dinner to the dining table in the other room.

“They don’t have to—” Kasumi started to say. But Soun held up a hand to forestall her.

“This is the Tendo School of Anything Goes Martial Arts. And in this dojo, we don’t let any of life’s challenges win. They might kick us down, and it might be hard, but we will always be there to help each other get back up.” He gave her a bright smile, one that crinkled the corners of his eyes. It was so genuine and warm and alive.

Kasumi didn’t think she’d ever been more proud to be his daughter.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eighteen

Ranma didn’t go home after school. Instead, he fled the classroom and found solitude on the roof, though it provided little comfort. It had been, in as few words as possible, a terrible, awful, horrible, no good, very bad day. From the time he’d left the house, he’d been splashed with water, been forced to watch Akane flirt with a man in his mid to late twenties, avoided notetaking in class, gotten in a fight, and been chewed out by his homeroom teacher and a school administrator for said fight.

And so, he sat on the edge of the roof after school and watched the students go to their clubs, or go home, or laugh with their friends, and felt absolutely miserable.

He didn’t really know where to go. The dojo seemed like the last place on earth he should be. It was Akane’s home, her safe place from the outside world. And she didn’t want him around. 

Eventually, he figured enough of the students had left the grounds for the day that it would be safe to leave his rooftop haven. He wandered around the school and tried to figure out where he was going to go. He wasn’t running and hiding, he tried to tell himself. He just didn’t want to face the backlash of his entirely disastrous day. Not yet. He would, it was his duty as a man, after all. But he didn’t want to face getting kicked out.

After wandering the halls of the school, and then exploring all the other buildings, he found himself sitting on the bench Emi had taken him to when he’d visited the photography club. He was staring into the tree’s branches, eyes fixed on nothing in particular, and wondering where he was going to run away to when they did kick him out of the dojo. He didn’t have a bedroll or his travel pack anymore. They’d been lost in China.

How could he have really thought his life could ever start to feel normal?

That he could settle into a normal life?

That he could pretend this was who he was?

How could he have been so stupid?

Why had he grown complacent? Helped Akane? Disobeyed?

Akane had made it clear more than once that she didn’t want his help with her frankly creepy horde of admirers. And he’d gone and stepped in anyway. 

“What am I gonna do?” He asked the tree he was sitting beneath. Or maybe he asked himself, or the spirits, or his ancestors. He really didn’t know. And he didn’t receive an answer. There was nothing, no voice of reason, no solution, nothing he could beat into submission and claim victory over. He was just alone and afraid and he didn’t want to be.

Because a man did not feel fear, and a man did not feel guilty.

But Ranma was afraid. And Ranma felt guilty.

He shook his head violently. His red hair whipping around his face. Up until now, everything his father had ever told him. Every lesson he’d ever been beaten into believing, had been challenged and found wanting.

So maybe a man wasn’t all those things he’d been told.

But that didn’t make sense, because his father was the strongest man Ranma had ever met. And those were the lessons he wanted Ranma to learn. Every time Ranma had dared to challenge his father, he’d been beaten down.

How could a man like that have been wrong?

All he wanted to do was curl in on himself. It was like nothing in his world was real, or mattered, or had been tangible. And it was devastating in a way that was impossible to put into words.

Everything Ranma knew about the world and himself and how to be a man was constantly being chipped away at. And it was so exhausting and demoralizing and painful to get through. Especially because every instinct he had was at war within himself.

He wanted to scream and yell and fight back when Akane yelled at him. Wanted to call her names, too. But he knew it was wrong, had been shown it was wrong by Akane herself. And Nabiki. And Kasumi. And Emi. And, and, and…

But it didn’t matter, because he couldn’t explain how he felt. Not to himself, and certainly not to anyone else.

Ranma was a fighter. Actions were better than conversations.

If he was annoying, then Akane wasn’t cute. And he could tell her so!

He felt sick at the idea of insulting her, particularly when he wouldn’t mean it. But maybe it was worse to insult someone and mean it. He didn’t know anymore.

Ranma tried to stop the shallow, panicked breathing. The shaking. The unrestrained panic that swelled in him.

What was he supposed to do? Who was he? Why didn’t anyone want him?

He leaned forward on the bench, folding over himself, arms wrapped around his middle. His hair hung down and covered his face as he leaned over his knees. He watched in morbid dissociation as his vision blurred and wet spots appeared on the dirt at his shoes, and on the little rocks around his feet.

Absently, he realized they were tears. He let them fall silently onto the ground.

A man did not cry. A man did not cry. A man did not cry. 

Movement in front of the school caught his peripheral vision, and he looked away from the puddle of misery and nothingness he’d been lost in. He wiped his cheeks and sniffled. Nobody could see him like this, could see him so defeated. It would be shameful and humiliating.

Kuno was leaving the school, head held high, and dressed in the Furinkan boys uniform instead of his kendo outfit for once. He was limping. Even from where Ranma sat it was obvious that every step he took was painful. Ranma winced. 

He’d maybe gone a little too far when they’d fought. 

No.

He’d definitely gone too far. And in the moment, he’d enjoyed it. Being better. Stronger. Taking all of his rage out on someone.

A man demonstrates mastery.

Kuno had two blacked eyes, one of which was swollen shut, and he could see the split lip from his spot on the bench. He glanced away from Kuno and smoothed his skirt. He felt like shit. He shouldn’t have taken it so far, even if Kuno had picked the fight.

A man did not show mercy.

He should have stopped when Kuno was down the first time, but he’d kept taunting, and Kuno had kept getting up. And so Ranma had put him down hard. It was the exact sort of thing his father would have done…

And that was the thing that made his stomach curdle.

Because what he’d done to Kuno was…

…He was six, and he was forced to walk across a bed of hot coals to make him strong. To make sure he could endure pain.

He was seven, and his father had broken his wrist while training, and told him that complaining about it wouldn’t make him stronger. They’d fought for another hour.

He was eight, and he was too tired to climb the rope again, but his father demanded it of him. His arms burned and he was more afraid of the consequences of saying no, he climbed. He fell.

He was nine and ten, eleven and twelve, thirteen and fourteen and fifteen… And now he was sixteen. And he was drawing his fist back to hit the boy with two black eyes just one more time, because he kept getting up.

He snarled, ripping himself from bitter memories and getting to his feet.

Ranma wanted to be nothing like his father. Everything that his father had ever done… all of it had made him miserable. And everything that he’d learned about life since coming to Nerima was the exact opposite. It was scary and difficult and built on a lie that was killing him. He sighed, got to his feet, and did what Emi or Kasumi or Akane would do. He walked over to Kuno, who glanced at him but said nothing.

They stood, facing one another, and Ranma bowed deep and low. He was not better than Kuno. His ability to hurt Kuno did not make him better. Because if it did… then his father was right.

And Ranma wanted nothing more than for his father to be wrong.

“I’m sorry,” Ranma said as he righted himself. “I shouldn’t have… I should have stopped when it was clear the fight was over.” He tucked his hair over his right ear, because he needed something to do with his hands. “You didn’t deserve it.”

Kuno, ever the cocky chauvinist, did his best to smirk at her, but it was more of a pained wince. “Nonsense, Reiko Saotome. It was I who challenged you to battle. You were well within your rights to defeat your enemy so soundly.” He started walking again.

“Don’t… don’t be stupid, Kuno,” Ranma said, falling in step beside the older boy. “It was clear from the first second of the fight that I was gonna win. I should have just… disarmed you and put you in an armbar or a headlock or something. What I did was…” 

What I did was what my father always did to me. He wanted to throw up. Because he knew what it was like to be utterly defeated, and to be thrashed around even after you were spent. Tears pricked at his eyes. He was disgusting.

Every hurt, every broken bone, every beating, insult, sleepless night, trauma, nightmare, every scrap of self-loathing boiled just beneath his skin. He was no better than his father. 

He took a deep breath. “What I did was not okay, and I’m sorry.”

Kuno’s expression was unreadable. “You surprise me, Saotome.”

Ranma cocked his head to the side. “Whaddya mean?” Was Kuno not furious with him? Ashamed? He seemed so calm. It made Ranma want to pull out his hair and scream.

Be mad at me!

“Until today, I was not aware of your martial arts prowess. You have always been a spectator to Akane Tendo’s morning trials. It was my belief you were a mere bystander. I was most surprised to hear you stepped in on her behalf,” he said. “Though now it is clear that you are the master and she is the student.”

Ranma exhaled in exasperation— Kuno’s assumption was not necessarily incorrect, but it was wildly far from the truth. They were walking down an unfamiliar road now, and Ranma assumed Kuno was walking them to his home, or maybe to a fucking hopsital. “I wouldn’t go that far. I have more training than she does, but Akane’s the better martial artist. She learns way faster than me.”

“You have seen her in training?” Kuno asked, and there was a spark of light in his eyes that made Ranma uncomfortable.

“I have. We… I’m staying at the Tendo Dojo. We practice together,” Ranma said. 

“It must be nice to practice with a peer of similar skill. A friend,” Kuno said. His voice was strained, and Ranma wasn’t sure if all of it was from the physical agony the older buy must be in. Strangely, when Kuno wasn’t being… the cartoonish brute he came off as, he was actually all right to talk with. There was nothing in his demeanor that was like the version of himself that was present at school. It was almost like Kuno wore a disguise in public.

Ranma knew what that was like.

“It is, yeah,” Ranma said softly. The tight knot in his belly unwound ever so slightly.

“She is getting stronger and faster,” Kuno said. “She’s been more difficult to fight since you came to Furinkan.”

“I’ve been… showing her where she needs work,” Ranma said. “It’s fun. I never had someone my age to practice with before.”

“You are a good teacher, then. It has grown troublesome to fight her. Each day I am surprised by her growth.”

Ranma gave him a questioning look. “What’s up with that, by the way? I saw it the first day I saw you fight. You could have won any time, but you didn’t.”

“Ah,” Kuno said, voice dry. “I am… embarrassed to be found out, though not surprised you were able to see it. I have never met a fighter quite so skilled as you.” He pursed his lips then, deciding what to say. Ranma was happy to wait for him to collect his thoughts. He often needed to do the same. Eventually, Kuno spoke. “My family is very wealthy. And my father believes it would be prudent for me to agree to a particular match.”

“You mean like a fight?” Ranma asked, curious.

Kuno laughed, then groaned and pressed a hand to his ribs. Ranma winced at the sight of his suffering. He reached out when Kuno bent over, catching some of his weight and helping to keep him upright. “No, Saotome, not like a fight.”

He didn’t get it, but he draped Kuno’s arm over his shoulders and shifted his weight so Kuno could lean on him and walk without limping. “Oh, then what kind of match is it?”

Kuno sighed. “An arranged marriage.”

Ranma blanched. People still did that? He didn’t want to imagine what it might be like to be forced into an arranged marriage. Even picturing the type of person his father would force on him made him want to throw up. Probably someone the exact opposite of—

Akane.

“I’m so sorry,” Ranma said. “That must be awful. But… what does… what does Akane have to do with it.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“My father is… eccentric,” Kuno said. Ranma thought that must run in the family, because Kuno had introduced himself as The Blue Thunder, and if that didn’t qualify, then he didn’t know what would. “He values certain things. Money, influence, strength. Things that make a person powerful. He chose a woman who, on paper, would provide our family these things. But… I convinced him that there was someone I liked, but she did not wish to be courted by a man who could not defeat her in combat.” He scoffed. “A lie, of course, and one that has certainly gotten out of hand. Somehow it became a widespread fact at Furinkan that Akane Tendo would go on a date with whoever beat her in a fight.”

“But none of the other students can beat her,” Ranma said. And it was true. Except for Kuno, it wasn’t even kind of close. Hadn’t been, even before Ranma had arrived.

Kuno nodded. “And as long as I always lose, I will not have to take a fiancéé.” And then he smiled wistfully. “It is only by happy coincidence that I have developed feelings for Akane Tendo. Though it is clear beyond doubt that she does not reciprocate them. So I will continue my charade and avoid the arranged marriage my father wants from me.”

Ranma could understand his point of view. Kuno valued his freedom. Ranma tamped down the spike of… whatever it was that flared up when Kuno said he liked Akane. “Have you met her? Is she awful?”

He shook his head. “She is quite pleasant. I would consider her a friend. I have known her since I was a boy.”

So it wasn’t that she was some kind of devil woman? “Oh… you just don’t like her?”

He sighed, and glanced up and down the street. Ranma’s eyes followed. There were a few people out for a walk, but the sidewalk was mostly empty. And the neighborhood was very upscale. “I will demand your word as a martial artist that this conversation will remain between us.”

He nodded. It was the least he could do after his shameful actions. “Yeah. Of course. My lips are sealed.”

Kuno studied his face for a long moment before he seemed satisfied. “In another world, marriage to this person would make me a very happy man. But that world is not this one.”

“Then I really don’t get why you’re going to all the trouble,” Ranma said. “If you like her, and she’s a good match for you, then what’s the hold up?”

Kuno hesitated, but he seemed to want to get it off his chest more than he wanted to be the eccentric samurai he was at school. And just when Ranma thought he’d learn why, Kuno shook his head. “It is not my secret to tell you. And I will not betray her confidence. But it would not work, or be healthy for either of us, if we were married.”

They stopped at the gate of an absolutely enormous manor. Ranma gaped at the beautiful garden through the iron gate. It was the most resplendent home he had ever seen. There were trimmed hedges, blossoming flowers, well maintained lawns, tall trees, walkways, fountains, and a house that was probably bigger than the school gymnasium. It stretched out of his view because a wall of hedges and the house blocked half of the property from view.

“Would you like to join me for tea?” Kuno asked. Ranma assumed he offered only to be polite. He very much doubted Kuno really wanted to have tea with the person who had kicked the shit out of him. 

He opened his mouth to decline, to save Kuno the trouble of spending more time with him, but… it beat going back to the dojo. It beat arguing with Akane, or dealing with his own inadequacy, or getting kicked out. And it was just tea. It wasn’t like Kuno was declaring his undying love and making insane rules about dates and fights before school. “Sure, Kuno.”

And to his surprise, Kuno smiled. Or at least did his best with his face all messed up. Ranma followed him through the gate, taking in the opulence that Kuno lived in. He’d never seen anything like it. All his life it had been camping and traveling and fighting to prove he was good enough for his father to decide to feed him. And now he was walking through the prettiest garden he’d ever seen. He stopped to examine a flower he thought Emi would find particularly photogenic.

“You find the garden appealing?” Kuno asked, watching him closely.

Ranma nodded, heat rising in his cheeks. “It’s pretty. There are so many flowers I couldn’t even name. I’ve never seen anything so nice in my life.”

“You are a strange creature, Reiko Saotome. So fierce, yet delicate. I am surprised to find myself enjoying your company a great deal.” Ranma felt his whole face turn red. He had no idea what to say to that. Kuno was very good at that sort of frilly language. He didn’t know how to talk like that, wasn’t even good at having a normal conversation with simple words. But Kuno didn’t linger on it, and Ranma was grateful that Kuno gestured towards the house so they could continue walking. 

The house was just as lavishly furnished as it should have been, which was to say, completely ridiculous to Ranma’s eyes. Everything was so expensive looking, so well maintained and purposefully placed. “Woah…” he said after they removed their shoes and he was led into a sitting room.

“Please, make yourself comfortable. I will return shortly with tea.” Kuno bowed and left the room, and it was a testament to his pain tolerance that he managed it without wincing. 

Ranma wandered around the room, trailing fingers over the furniture. The room was very traditionally Japanese, but the pieces selected to line the walls were lacquered and polished and very clearly hand carved. Many had gold accents and inlays that had to be made of the real thing. 

When Kuno returned, Ranma was staring at a large painting, and trying to decide if he liked it. It was something that he was certain other girls would have opinions on. It was by some french painter or other, depicting a town on an island at sunrise, or maybe sunset. He couldn’t tell. The colors were nice, he supposed. They worked well together. 

The door slid open, and he turned to see Kuno carrying a tray, and being followed by a girl who looked an awful lot like him. She was about a head shorter than Kuno, which was to say, still taller than Ranma. Her long, silky black hair was pulled up in a ponytail that hung off one side of her head. Her eyes were cold and calculating and weighing. She made him nervous.

Like her brother, she moved like a trained martial artist.

“My, my, big brother… she’s quite a catch.” The girl was wearing the uniform for a school Ranma didn’t recognize. She offered her hand to him. “Kodachi Kuno, a pleasure.” Ranma thought she was very pretty, in a predatory sort of way. She looked like a viper, poised to strike her prey at any moment. 

“Nice to meet you, Kodachi.” He shook her hand. “My name’s Reiko Saotome.” And he was surprised to find he didn’t stutter, didn’t hesitate. The name fell from his lips easily. It was an odd feeling, and his stomach roiled in discomfort.

It was becoming so easy to lie to people. To make them believe he was this girl who hadn’t even existed before he went to Jusenkyo.

“Tatewaki didn’t tell me the girl he invited over was so pretty,” Kodachi said, smirking at him. Ranma didn’t think he’d ever get used to people telling him he was pretty. But it was one of those things that seemed to be unanimous. And he supposed it was flattering. He wouldn’t like if everyone thought he was ugly. Though he thought he might have liked being considered plain, unnoticeable. 

Not that that would ever happen. He had bright red hair, people thought he was pretty. The boys at school whispered behind his back about how hot they found him.

“Uh, thank you,” he said awkwardly. And then, because complimenting girls seemed to generally be a good idea, Ranma returned the compliment. “You’re pretty, too.”

She laughed, the sound tinkling like a bell. It sounded almost rehearsed, fake. “Oh, but you’re so precious. What are you doing, spending time with my brute of a brother? Surely you can find someone less boorish.”

While that was true, and he would certainly rather be spending his time with Akane, Ranma blushed. Unsure of what else to say, he scratched the back of his head nervously, hand ruffling through his still-loose hair. He really needed to bring extra hair ties with him, he hadn’t been able to find the little cord he tied his hair with after his trip to Dr. Tofu’s clinic. It was probably still in the bathroom there.

“Kodachi, I must insist that you refrain from picking fights while we have company,” Kuno said, arms crossed.

“Oh, uhm… I just… we were talking and he was walking home and he… invited me in for tea?” Ranma said by way of explanation. He felt so out of place before this girl.

“But of course you did. My big brother does have his admirers,” she snorted. “Did you want to make sure he got home safely? Tend his wounds?” Kodachi turned to her brother, took the tray, and poured herself a cup of tea. She did not pour for Kuno or Reiko.

“I…” Ranma looked at Kuno, trying to gauge how much the guy wanted his sister to know. From the expression on his face, it seemed like not a lot. “That’s…” He wanted to go drown himself in one of the fountains, but he owed Kuno. “Yes. I was concerned for his wellbeing.”

“How quaint,” Kodachi said.

Some of the tension seemed to have gone out of Kuno’s shoulders, and he poured a cup of tea for Reiko and then for himself. The three of them sat at the low table. Kuno placed the mug of steaming tea in front of him… And Ranma stared at his piping hot cup of tea. Realization that he was expected to drink the tea crashed over him, and he felt panic grip his heart. He couldn’t do that. Couldn’t touch it, feel it, be near it. He couldn’t breathe.

It was hot.

Tea was hot.

Hot water.

The tea needed time to cool down, to be less hot. Because it could, would burn him. 

He took a shaky breath, but all he could think about was the searing, blistering heat of the water poured over him at Jusenkyo, of the horrible burning ache that had plagued him for days in the hospital after. The itchiness of his skin and the way his life had—

“Is everything satisfactory?” Kuno asked, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. To his astonishment, Kuno actually sounded worried about him.

“Wha?” Ranma asked, looking up from his tea. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and his heart was hammering in his chest. “Oh, y-yeah. Of course!” He reached for the tea, but his hand was shaking furiously. He brushed the hot ceramic with his fingers, and withdrew his hand.

“Are you quite sure?” Kodachi asked with a sneer.

“I-it’s just…” Ranma sighed, his hand was shaking so bad he thought he might slosh the tea over his skin if he picked it up. “It’s a little too hot to drink right now.” He laughed, a little too nervous, a little too loud. He needed to change the subject. Something. Anything.

“I apologize,” Kuno said. “Perhaps cream? It is quite popular in the western world. It will cool the tea down.”

“Yes!” Ranma said immediately. Anything. Literally anything to make the steam go away. Kuno, bless his chivalry, got to his feet at once, and padded from the room.

He was left alone with Kodachi, who was looking at him like he was a piece of meat. “So… you attend Furinkan high school.”

Ranma was still wearing his school uniform, so that much was obvious. “I do.”

“Then perhaps you can tell me what happened to my dear brother’s face. I’d like to send a gift basket to whoever did it,” her eyes glinted dangerously. 

Ranma tried to laugh it off. “Oh, you know Kuno. Always getting into fights. It was bound to happen.”

Kodachi hummed. “Yes, I suppose so. Tendo finally had enough of him, I take it?”

“What? No! She would never—” Ranma caught himself, looking away and frowning.

Kodachi laughed again, the sound was starting to grate on his nerves. “I suppose she wouldn’t, if she hasn’t before today. No. Someone else did that.” There was something dangerous in her voice. Like she was planning on committing murder. 

“...Yeah,” Ranma said. “It wasn’t Akane.”

“But you do know who it was,” Kodachi said. “Tell me.”

“I…” Ranma squirmed. “Someone he challenged to a fight. Kuno lost.”

“Is that so?” Kodachi asked, frowning. “Kuno does not challenge people needlessly, not usually.”

“I… suppose not?” Ranma said.

Kodachi’s eyes bored into his skull. “Who did it?”

“I… it…” Ranma was fidgeting nervously. “I’m sorry.” He hung his head.

“Why are you sorry? Are you going to protect the fiend who did it?” Kodachi scooted closer to him. “Shall I force the information from you? A bribe, or perhaps a threat?”

Ranma shook his head, and resigned himself to his fate. “N-no. You don’t have to do that. It was me. I did it.”

Kodachi’s expression shifted at once, sneer transforming to shock and then to anger. “You? You would do that to him?”

Ranma felt the shame again. Compared himself to his father, found that they were one in the same. He was broken, damaged, cruel. “He challenged me to a fight. I was having a bad day. I should have stopped. I know I should have stopped. I’m sorry.”

“And yet he invited you into our home,” Kodachi said, voice flat. Ranma looked up and found her expression unreadable.

“I… you’re right. I shouldn’t be here. I’ll go,” Ranma got to his feet, and bowed to her.

“No. Sit,” Kodachi ordered, eyes cold. “I want to hear you tell me just what on earth you were thinking.”

Ranma sat, fists clenched on his skirt. “I… Kuno always picks fights with Akane. And somehow all these boys think it’s a good idea to gang up on her.” Ranma took a shaky breath. “They… I fought them today, this morning. Kuno found out. Wanted to fight me. And I was… I was really angry about something else. It seemed like a great way to just let go of all that rage. And Kuno’s always… He… He’s really not so bad when he’s not swinging that stupid bokken around,” Ranma said. “I didn’t expect to like talking to him when I went to apologize to him after school. But… he was very polite.”

Kodachi stared at him for a long time, eyes cold. It was like she was trying to decide something.

“I don’t think he’s ever brought a girl over,” Kodachi said, sipping her tea.

“Uhm… okay?”

“You will not hurt him again.”

Ranma blanched, but nodded. “Not like that, no. If we fight again it’ll be sporting. He’s….” Well Ranma didn’t want to say ‘a good guy’ or anything, but Kuno wasn’t the worst. “He deserves that much at least.”

Kodachi seemed satisfied by that. 

When Kuno returned, Ranma poured perhaps more cream than was strictly necessary into his tea, and nervously tapped at the ceramic of the cup. It was warm, but not too hot. It had sat, he’d poured cold cream into it. It was okay. It wasn’t going to burn him. He took a sip.

And it was nice, he supposed, in an awkward kind of way. Kuno and his sister didn’t seem to get along particularly well, and he was frightened of Kodachi because of the way she constantly sized him up. 

He did his best to make polite conversation, but found himself giving mostly one word answers and only talking when asked a direct question.

When Kuno walked him back to the front door, Ranma apologized again, and Kuno waved him off. “It is nothing, Saotome. I shall endeavor to become strong enough to challenge you more seriously someday.”

“I— that’s not—” 

“Shall I walk you home?”

Home, the dojo. “No!” Ranma said, voice breaking. Kuno absolutely could not know that he was definitely going to be homeless. “I— I can get there on my own. Thanks!”

And then he turned on his heel and ran into the night.

It was late, later than he’d been out since coming to stay in Nerima. Night had fallen during their tea, and Ranma figured he could wait until the Tendos were all in bed before slipping in through his bedroom window and collecting his things. Then he could figure out where to go. But first, he had to wait for everyone to go to sleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nineteen

Kasumi bit her fingernails while she waited for the water to boil. It was a habit formed from years of anxiety— taking care of her father and sisters, maintaining the house, graduating top of her class, anything that caused stress ended in jagged fingernails clipped too close by her own teeth. In recent months, she’d mostly kicked the habit. Now, though, Reiko was noticeably absent from the house, having missed dinner and their usual group study session. It was the first time since the girl had come to live with them that she’d just been gone, and Kasumi was worried.

She was worried that Reiko had found herself in trouble, that she’d gotten hurt, that her disappearance was connected to her fight with Akane. What if Reiko didn’t think she’d still be welcome here?

Her eyes were fixed on the old kettle, hoping against hope that she’d hear the front door open and Reiko would be there, unharmed and apologetic for worrying them and hungry enough to sit at the little corner table in the kitchen.

No such thing happened, and Kasumi poured tea for herself and her father while she tried not to let the knot of worry settle too deeply in her gut. The steam and pleasant aroma did little to soothe her troubles. Her stomach roiled.

Soun was sitting on the veranda looking out over the garden and koi pond, arms and legs crossed and head bowed in quiet contemplation. “Here you are, father,” Kasumi said, handing him a cup.

He started and looked up at her. After a moment, his face broke out into a grateful smile, though she could see the concern etched into the lines of his face, too. “Ah, thank you, Kasumi.” He took the steaming cup and gestured for her to join him.

She sat, folding her legs beneath her. It was a pleasant evening, not too cold for the time of year, and the chirping of crickets joined the occasional croaking of a frog and the trickling of water at the pond to create a springtime fugue while they drank their tea.

Her sisters had gone their separate ways after dinner, both pretending not to be concerned with their wayward houseguest. Nabiki was up in her room, and Akane was out in the dojo, neither of them would ever admit they were worried, but Kasumi knew from the way they’d held themselves at dinner that they were.

“Reiko still out?” Soun asked, keeping his voice light.

Kasumi nodded as she sipped her tea. “Yes, father.”

“It’s getting quite late,” he said, frowning.

Kasumi pushed her concern down. “Yes, father.”

Soun hummed. “You must be tired,” he said. “Why don’t you go on upstairs and get ready for bed.”

Kasumi shook her head. Someone had to stay up and wait for Reiko to come home. To make sure she was okay. To be there and heat her up some leftovers. “No! Someone needs to be up to check on Reiko when she gets home. She’ll be hungry, of course, and since she’s out so late, she’s probably upset about something, or doing that thing she does where she doesn’t want to talk about her problems, and—”

“I know, Kasumi,” Soun interjected. “Believe me, I know. I’ve stayed away as much as possible, because you and your sisters have been so wonderful with her.” He sighed and put his mug down, eyes fixed on the stars. “I was worried—am worried— that she’ll have a hard time with me because her father ,” he spat the word. “Her father is responsible for her misgivings about people, and her way of viewing the world. She carries so much that he put on her. It was cruel, clearly, and I don’t know the half of it. I haven’t asked, because I want her to be the one to tell me. I didn’t want to make any parental issues she has worse, but I think a conversation about letting her family know if she’s going to say out late, and where she’s gone off to, is quite necessary.”

Kasumi blinked at him, eyes wide with shock. “Her family?” Kasumi asked.

“We are,” Soun said. “I’ve seen you with her. You practically adopted her the day she arrived. I know she’s gone to Nabiki when she’s upset, that she’s gone shopping with you, that she practices martial arts with Akane every night. I know the four of you stay up late and do homework and gossip. We’re her family. Maybe not by blood, but by choice, surely. And I’ll be damned if she runs off and goes back to living how she did. And if it falls to one of us to provide strict and fair discipline, it should be me. I think Reiko needs her sisters to be her safe place, more than anything. And that means she needs me to be a father figure who can love her and provide her reasonable consequences for her actions.”

Kasumi sniffled and wiped the corner of her eye. “When did you become so wise?”

“I do believe wisdom comes with age, Kasumi,” Soun said. “But if you must know… Reiko’s arrival forced me to take a good, hard look in the mirror. I spent the last seven years failing you. Reiko’s situation is not quite so far from yours, but she didn’t have sisters to help look out for her. If I’d focused on martial arts as a way to deal with grief. If I hadn’t had you to help with Nabiki and Akane. If…” He shook his head. “I will not become like her father. And that means I need to be the best father I can be to you and Nabiki and Akane.”

“Reiko, too,” Kasumi said.

“Reiko, too,” Soun agreed. “But she can’t just stay out all night without telling us where she’s going. Otherwise we’ll sit up and wait for her and drink tea.”

“That we will,” Kasumi said. The knot of worry was uncoiling. She had her dad to look out for Reiko. She wasn’t alone. It was going to be okay.

It was nearly midnight and the streets of Nerima were quiet. The stillness of the night and the cool spring air served as a stark contrast to the turmoil Ranma felt. He was on edge, terrified of what waited for him across the street. The Tendo dojo sat there, as inviting as ever. The light just inside the front door was on, had been on for hours, as if the house was telling him it was okay to come home.

Home.

He wanted it to be. It was the most wonderful place he’d ever been. Filled with people who were unfailingly kind and good. People who were so unlike him. Unlike his father. He didn’t deserve to live with them. His damage, such that it was, had brought out something in him today that had no place in the Tendo household. 

He’d beaten Kuno half to death because he was upset. Because he could.

Ranma hated that he’d done it. Hated himself for doing it. Maybe just hated himself. He was all twisted up and rotten and undeserving of everything they were offering him.

All Ranma had to do was slip in through his bedroom window, pack his bag, and disappear. Akane would be better off without him. He wouldn’t be able to get in her way anymore. Nabiki wouldn’t have to deal with him falling apart all the time. Kasumi wouldn’t have to babysit him. And Soun wouldn’t have to watch him out of the corner of his eye to make sure he didn’t ruin their house.

Taking a fortifying breath, Ranma slinked across the street and slipped inside the wall that marked the Tendo property. A bittersweet peace settled over him. This place was the calmest he’d ever known. The best.

But it wasn’t for him. He didn’t belong. He wasn’t part of this family. 

He was part of the fucked up, abusive family that required him to become the strongest martial artist at any cost under pain of death. And today that had been all too clear.

With an ease born of years of training, Ranma lifted himself up onto the wall and then hopped across to the roof. He scrambled over the tiles, cold and weather worn under his fingers, until he got to the window to his bedroom. He slid it open and flipped through the window, scooting across the little desk and into the room.

It was never exactly how he left it. Kasumi always made the bed for him even after he dragged everything onto the floor, and the little bits of clutter he left around were always meticulously organized and put back in their place. He owed her more than he could ever repay, and he promised himself to pay her back someday. To pay all of them back someday.

But he couldn’t now. Not like this. Not when he was broken and so full of anger and self-loathing. It was all he could do just to tread water most days.

He had to go. To stop his flailing from dragging this wonderful family down with him.

He slid his school bag off his shoulders, and flipped it open, gently pulling out the contents and setting them on a corner of the desk. The little book bag was a lot smaller than the travel pack he was used to, but he could stuff a pair of pants and a few extra shirts in it.

The little wardrobe creaked open as it always did, and Ranma hissed under his breath at the sound. He didn’t want anyone to hear him.

Despite his best efforts, a quiet escape into the night was not in the cards. The door to his room clicked open and Ranma flattened himself against the wardrobe, holding his breath and watching in horror as Soun Tendo entered the room.

“I thought I heard you,” Soun said levelly. “Are you well?”

Ranma blinked at him. Was he what? Why wasn’t Soun furious? Akane had told him he was in the way. That he was annoying. Hadn’t she told her family not to let him… not to let him… He nodded and pushed the thought away.

“...Yeah.” 

The door clicked shut behind Soun and he stood in the dark room with him, arms crossed and eyes fixed on his face. “Good. Good. We were worried about you.”

Ranma did not know what to say to that. Nobody had ever, ever worried about him before. So he just stood there in disbelief, and kept his eyes fixed on a point not quite on Soun’s face. He didn’t want to know what he’d find in the older man’s eyes. What hatred and disappointment he’d see.

When Ranma didn’t speak, Soun took a step into the room and stopped cold in his tracks when Ranma flinched. So many times he’d been punished by his own father for breaking the rules. And Genma’s punishments were always, always physical. Soun uncrossed his arms and relaxed his posture as much as he could. “I apologize, Reiko. I did not mean to make you feel uneasy. I just wanted to speak with you.”

Ranma let out a shaky breath. “You don’t gotta. I know I messed up. I’m just packing up some clothes so I can get outta your hair. You don’t need to tell me.”

Soun, surprisingly, seemed taken aback. “Why… would you need to pack a bag?”

“I… Akane and I got in a fight?” Reiko said. 

“I’m aware,” Soun said. “Though, as fights go, it was quite mild, by all accounts.”

“Well, I just… I’m not your… I don’t…” Ranma didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t their problem, or their kid. He didn’t belong. Wasn’t part of their unit. But the words died in his throat. He looked at his feet and shifted his weight back and forth.

“Reiko, dear, were you under the impression that an argument with Akane would end with you being asked to leave?” Soun didn’t move toward him, but his voice was level and calm and so gentle. He nodded.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Soun said. “No. You’re not going to get kicked out. Not for this. Not for anything. ”

Ranma started, head snapping up and eyes seeking Soun’s. He looked sad, but sincere, and Ranma for the life of him didn’t understand why. “But… I’m not yours. Why do you care?”

Soun sniffled and swiped a hand under his nose. Even in the almost pitch dark of the room, Ranma could see the shine of unshed tears in his eyes. “Oh, Reiko… No. I am sorry that my behavior has ever hinted, even for a moment, that you were just a guest, or that I was merely tolerating your presence here.”

Ranma sniffled. “But… why? You know I’m not, like, smart like your kids are. I’m just… I’m just me. I know I’m not good enough. And I don’t got anything to give you.”

Soun wiped his eyes next. “I don’t want anything from you, Reiko. I just want you to be happy.” He laughed wetly, sniffling again. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk down to yourself. You’re just as smart as any of my other daughters.”

Ranma clenched his fists, torn between wanting to believe the man and wanting to rage against the lie that was being presented to him. Soun hadn’t told him why he was being so nice. “I ain’t your daughter.”

“Not by blood,” Soun said. “But I think the girls would kill me if I ever let you believe otherwise. And I think they’d be more than justified.”

And the fight that was in him slipped from his fingers. Ranma’s hands unclenched and his vision blurred. He took three rapid, shaky breaths and fell to his knees. “I’m… you… you want me?” That couldn’t be true. Had never been true of anyone. But there it was, spoken plain as day, and still Ranma didn’t believe him.

“Yes. I do. We do. All of us. You’re part of this family, Reiko. And families get in arguments and do stupid things and sometimes they hurt each other.” He stepped toward Ranma then, slow and as non threatening as could be. He got on his knees and looked Ranma in the eye. “What families don’t do is threaten one another and use violence to enforce the rules.”

“But… my dad…” Ranma managed between too fast breaths as his worldview was dashed against a cliff-face by wave after wave of kindness.

“Is wrong,” Soun said. “He’s wrong.”

Strong arms wrapped him up, cocooned him away from the outside world, and promised safety.

Ranma wept.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty

Ranma hadn’t cried in front of a man in years. Hadn’t cried in front of anyone until Kasumi and Nabiki and Akane decided that what he really needed was to be able to talk about shit, and that had pried open a whole can of worms that Ranma was still trying to cope with on a daily basis. Even with their support, he’d been leery of Soun, because on paper he was a lot like his dad. In his forties. Martial arts master. But Soun was about as far removed from Genma as a person could be, and Ranma let himself be swept up into the safety and shelter of his warm presence.

And despite that, Ranma felt guilty for being so pathetically weak in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” he choked between heaving breaths as tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Soun’s arms pulled him closer, and a big hand rubbed gentle circles on his back and Ranma found his head buried in Soun’s chest as he guided their weight into a more comfortable position to sit in. Ranma trembled like a leaf and babbled out apologies over and over. Because he was sorry. For making them worry, for being weak, for thinking the worst of them, for lying, for fighting with Akane, for all of it.  

And he didn’t want Soun to suddenly remember that crying was unacceptable and that what he really needed was a reminder of a man’s strength. Ranma didn’t think he had enough fight in him right now to deal with it. But Soun seemed remarkably unconcerned with his display of weakness. In fact, he seemed like a real pro at meltdowns.

Which… yeah. He had three kids already.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re okay.”

Was it? Was he? Ranma wasn’t so sure, but what did he even know anymore? His whole world kept crumbling around him in the face of Nerima being so much less awful than traveling with his father. People had fun. Did things unrelated to martial arts. Didn’t live a cutthroat life revolving around strength and strength alone.

It didn’t make any sense, but Ranma wanted to believe that life could really be like that.

At some point, the tears stopped and his breathing became less panicked, easier to regulate. His head throbbed and he sniffled a few times. He should have shuffled back, should have wiggled away from Soun, but he was warm and safe and Ranma wanted to stay nestled against his side, where nobody could see his runny nose and puffy eyes.

“Promise me that you won’t try to run away from home again, Reiko,” Soun said softly.

Ranma’s breath hitched again, but he nodded into Soun’s chest.

Home.

Not their dojo. Not his house.

Home.

Ranma wasn’t going to go anywhere. Couldn’t bring himself to. These insane, stupid, unbelievably kind people had stolen that rebellion from him. Shown him something different, something that he could maybe believe in. Something tangible he could fight for.

“I won’t,” Ranma whispered.

“Good.” And somehow that was that. Because Soun didn’t press further. Instead, he kept rubbing Ranma’s back. “We do need to lay some ground rules, though.”

Ranma swallowed nervously, his whole body tensed. Was this the rug pull he’d been afraid of? Had he given in too soon? Should he run? Should he—

“If you’re going to stay out late, please let me or one of the girls know so we don’t worry about you. And if possible, be home before midnight, okay?”

Ranma pulled back enough to look Soun in the eye. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Soun confirmed.

“But I—” Ranma started to say.

“That’s it, Reiko. You’re new to living in a household. There’s no need for any more than some ground rules. If you do it again, we’ll talk again, and maybe then we’ll impose a curfew or discuss a fitting punishment for rule breaking.” He smiled, but Ranma thought it looked sad. “You’ll see, little one. It won’t be nearly as bad as you’re imagining if it comes to that.”

“Won’t it?” Ranma asked, thinking of every punishment his own father had ever dreamed up. 

Soun’s eyes flashed with something fierce then, and Ranma had to fight against his own urge to recoil. “Of course not. I’m talking about requiring you to be home right after school, or making a rule that you have to do your homework before you go to the dojo, or making it your job to do the dishes and take out the trash for a few weeks.” 

“...That’s all?”

“Yes, Reiko.”

Ranma dropped his head, thoughts racing. Had everything in his whole life always been bullshit? His father had always been so sure of himself.

He’s wrong, Soun’s voice echoed in his mind.

Ranma wasn’t so sure, but it was such a nice thought. He pulled his knees to his chest and leaned back against the wall by his wardrobe. Soun seemed content to let him be, and after a few minutes of silence, he made to get up.

“My pop…” Ranma started to say as a way to keep Soun in the room. “He always talked about how the only thing that mattered was being strong.”

Soun settled back against the wall beside him and listened.

“He didn’t want me to do anything except for fightin’ even if I asked to try stuff.”

“What did you want to try?” Soun asked.

“I always wanted to learn how to draw,” Ranma said. “And I wanted to learn how to fix up my clothes when they got ripped up in training. I really liked some of the clothes he made me throw away.”

“You can learn how to do those things now,” Soun said.

Ranma bit his lip. “What if he’s right and it makes me worse at martial arts?”

“Maybe it will. Maybe it will make you more ferocious because you have things worth fighting for. And maybe… it’s okay if you trade some of that time you spend training to try other things.”

“He wouldn’t like that,” Ranma said to his knees.

“Well, he’s not here,” Soun growled. “And as far as I’m concerned, you are free to explore any hobby or interest you want to.”

Ranma didn’t have anything to say to that, and instead wrapped his arms around his shins.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want. But you are free to choose something else,” Soun said. 

“I… don’t know how,” Ranma said.

Soun chuckled. “You don’t have to decide tonight. Or tomorrow. Or even this week or this month. But you do get to decide, and there’s a lot of power in that.”

“Thank you,” Ranma said.

“I’ll always be here, if you need me,” Soun said. “You should get some sleep.”

Ranma nodded, but didn’t move. He didn’t really feel sleepy. Exhausted, sure, but not sleepy. Soun go to his feet and padded to the door. 

“Thank you for opening up to me, Reiko. I know it was hard, but I’m proud of you.” And then he was out of the room.

But the door didn’t close. Kasumi slipped in and flicked on the light. She was carrying a little tray ladened with food. It smelled heavenly, and Ranma’s eyes followed the tray the second he spotted it.

“Have you had dinner? Are you hungry?” Kasumi asked.

“I had your bento,” Ranma said, gesturing to the desk where his bag and school things were piled up.

Kasumi nodded and placed the tray on the desk. “Come and eat,” she said as she grabbed Ranma’s books and pushed them into a neat pile at the corner of the desk. She set the school bag on the floor and picked up the bento.

Ranma only hesitated for a second, but his hunger won out and he was in the chair at the desk half a second later. The tray was loaded with meat, rice, and vegetables. He reached for the chopsticks, then hesitated and got to his feet. He hugged Kasumi tight.

Her arms wrapped around him and she gave him a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks for the food,” Ranma said.

“Always,” Kasumi said. “Always, Reiko.”

Ranma sniffed, eyes glassy, and nodded. He didn’t know what else to say, so he sat back down and started eating. 

“I’ll be right back,” Kasumi said, waving the bento by way of explanation. She left, and Ranma wolfed down the food in silence. It felt good to eat after skipping dinner. He was finished before Kasumi came back, and he neatly stacked the empty dishes on the tray.

He glanced at the little clock on his nightstand. It was almost one o’clock in the morning and he was still in his school uniform. 

Ranma fished a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt from his wardrobe and changed. He was just about to rebuild his little nest on the floor when the door creaked open and Kasumi entered, holding a hairbrush and a little box. He eyed them curiously, but something about Kasumi’s kind demeanor kept him from worrying about them. If she had a plan, he’d trust her. He did trust her, maybe more than anyone else in the world.

She sat on the edge of Ranma’s bed and patted the mattress. “How was dinner?”

“It was good,” Ranma said, sliding onto the mattress beside her. “Your cooking is always good.”

Kasumi giggled. “That was dad’s cooking, actually. But I appreciate the compliment.”

“It was?” Ranma asked. “I didn’t know he could cook.”

Kasumi gestured for Ranma to get all the way onto the mattress and face away from her. He did so. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t either. Not until earlier today.” Her weight shifted behind him and then her hands were gently sliding through his hair. He tensed for half a second before melting into the sensation. “I came home this afternoon and he was in the kitchen, making dinner.”

“He did a good job,” Ranma said, leaning his head into Kasumi’s hands.

She deftly worked through his hair, untangling any knots she found. “He did,” Kasumi agreed. 

They were silent for a few moments. Kasumi’s hands eventually withdrew and were replaced by her hairbrush. The soft sound of the brush on his hair was just as relaxing as the little tingling feeling that came with her gentle brushing of his hair. “That feels nice,” Ranma said.

“Good,” Kasumi said. “I always loved when mom brushed my hair. Made me feel safe and relaxed. Your mother must have done the same.”

Ranma tensed for a second, two voices warring within him. One, his father’s ever present reminders of his inadequacy, and the other that gentle prodding that told him otherwise.

Men don’t talk about their feelings.

He’s Wrong.

You’re weak.

Home.

“No…” Ranma said at last. “My mom never brushed my hair before.”

Kasumi hummed and continued her ministrations. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s… it’s okay. I’m not really used to this kinda stuff. I didn’t get to do anything like this growing up.” Which was true, just not for the reason implied.

Kasumi tutted, as if to say that it most certainly wasn’t okay. He wasn’t sure if her displeasure was to the fact that his mother had never brushed his hair, or he was okay talking about it. Just to be safe, he kept his mouth shut so she wouldn’t stop what she was doing, because it felt nice. And he wanted to just enjoy something for a change.

The hairbrush kept moving, and Ranma took a breath to try and ease some of the tension he was still holding on to. 

“We’ll just have to make it a habit,” Kasumi said, fingers gently tracing along the back of his neck. “Lots of time to make up for.”

“...Yeah,” Ranma said, trying to keep that coil of guilt in his belly from gnawing up his throat.

“Unless you don’t want to, of course,” Kasumi said. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Ranma shifted his weight a little, extending his legs and wiggling his toes. “I don’t really think I’ve ever been comfortable.”

The hairbrush paused for a moment, and Ranma held his breath. Kasumi’s fingers trailed through his hair and then her fingers were massaging his scalp. The sensation was so foreign and so unbelievably wonderful that his eyes rolled back into his head and he purred. The breath he’d been holding slipped from him and his shoulders slackened. What on earth was she doing? How could he petition her to never stop?

“How about now?” Kasumi asked.

“I’m more relaxed,” Ranma admitted. “But I wasn’t really talkin’ about that.”

“I know, Reiko. You’ve had it so hard” Kasumi murmured, working her way across his scalp. “But you don’t have to worry about that sort of thing anymore. You’re home, where you belong.”

Ranma blinked at the stinging sensation in his eyes. “Why are all of you so kind to me? I don’t deserve it.”

“Of course you do,” Kasumi said. “You’re a very sweet girl who’s been through a lot of very difficult things.”

“But I just… showed up. I didn’t know you or anything. I was all messed up and gross and I didn’t even have anything to pay you with,” Ranma said. “And you let me stay.” His voice cracked a little, and he cleared his throat.

Kasumi’s fingers withdrew, and the gentle brushing resumed. “You came to us because you had a family connection. But we let you stay because you needed us. And, if I’m being honest, we needed you, too.”

Ranma scoffed. She was certainly laying it on thick. Nobody needed him for anything. He was, at best, just tolerated. His mother had given him up, and his father’s disdain for his inadequacies had always been clear. Traveling the world meant no friends, no stability, nothing.

He wiped a forearm across his eyes.

“You don’t have to lie,” Ranma said.

“Oh, Reiko,” Kasumi said. “I’m not lying to you.” She set the brush aside and gently turned Ranma to face her. Her eyes were set in that fierce way that they often were, and Ranma, for the first time, realized that there was no animosity there. She was looking at him like that because…

Because…

She… cared about him.

His lip trembled. “You promise?” 

“I promise,” Kasumi said, smiling at him. She held his gaze for another few moments and then set the hairbrush aside. “Now, scoot forward and rest your head on my lap.”

Ranma blinked. “Why?”

Kasumi unclasped the little box she’d brought into the room and flipped open the lid. Little bottles glimmered in the light from the lamp on his bedside table as if they were some kind of sacred treasure.

“What’s it… for?” Ranma asked, picking up one of the little bottles.

That look darkened Kasumi’s face again, and then her expression softened and she laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done a skincare routine.”

“Nu uh.” Ranma shook his head. It seemed like a girl thing, which meant his father would have disapproved entirely. And even if boys did it, he doubted there would have been time for him to attempt it while on the road.

“It’s nice,” Kasumi said.

He settled down onto the bed and rested his head in her lap. “If you say so.”

Kasumi examined his face for a moment, before nodding and reaching for one of the bottles and a little cotton pad. She dabbed a few drops from the bottle onto his face and gently massaged it over his cheeks, chin, and forehead. He let his eyes flutter closed.

“You have such pretty skin already, Reiko. It’s almost unfair,” Kasumi said as she worked. “We girls typically have to work so hard to maintain a proper skincare routine to keep ourselves looking nice.”

She wiped his face with something cool and damp before opening a second bottle.

“But, I suppose you’ve earned having something work in your favor. It doesn’t even look like that sunburn you had when you arrived left any discoloration,” Kasumi massaged the next ointment onto his skin. 

“That wasn’t a sunburn,” Ranma said. Then he hissed and sucked in a breath, eyes going wide at his own admission.

To her credit, Kasumi’s hands stilled only for a moment. “No?” She kept her voice light and conversational.

“It was… pop put me in the hospital with boiling hot water because I fell into this spring when we were training, and—”

“He what!?” Kasumi snapped.

Ranma’s heart lurched. He’d almost fessed up his lie. “We were just training,” Ranma said quietly, trying to pass it off as no big deal.

“That is not training, do you understand me?” Kasumi said. She wasn’t rubbing face cream into his skin anymore. She was shaking with barely restrained fury, her hands clenched into fists. “Harming someone, let alone a child, your own child, is not training.”

Ranma frowned and looked away from her, face flush with shame and embarrassment. 

“Look at me, Reiko,” Kasumi said. He stubbornly kept his eyes fixed on the wall. “Look at me.”

When he didn’t, she rested her palm on his cheek and gently guided his face back upright. He chanced a glance at her face. She was scowling. 

“He won’t ever do that to you again. I won’t let him.” 

How on earth was Kasumi going to stop his dad if he decided to drag him off to god knows where? Ranma shrugged.

“Reiko… I need you to understand that what he did to you wasn’t okay,” Kasumi said, rubbing a thumb across his cheek. 

“It’s not like it was any different from our other training,” Ranma said quietly. He felt so small, so pitiful. So weak. He’d never been strong enough to prevent his father from hurting him, and eventually he’d just… stopped trying.

She opened and closed her mouth several times, processing and trying to come up with something else to say. She seemed entirely too stunned to function.

“It’s no big deal,” Ranma said.

“Yes, it is,” Kasumi said. She wiped at his face again, somehow even more gentle than before in spite of her trembling fingers. “Nobody gets to hurt my sisters like that. Nobody.”

Ranma flushed. “What did you call me?”

“I called you my sister,” Kasumi said matter of factly. She opened another bottle, dabbed some of it on her hands and started massaging his face again.

“But…” He hesitated. He wanted to ask her why, wanted to protest. He knew he wasn’t her family. Definitely not her sister— not that he could say anything. And yet, he wanted to be part of this family so much that the argument never escaped his lips. “...Okay.”

“You just relax, little sister,” Kasumi said. “Let me finish what I’m doing here, and we can talk about what constitutes training another time.”

She knew.

She knew and she didn’t think any less of him for being too weak to stop it from happening. Tension melted from his body. He nodded and closed his eyes. Her hands danced over his face as she applied her serums and ointments and cleansers, and he was asleep long before she was finished.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

When she was finished with the skincare routine, Kasumi sat on the bed and stroked Reiko’s hair softly. The poor thing had fallen asleep so quickly once she’d finally relaxed, and Kasumi wished she could always look so at peace. Her breath was deep and even, and it was the most relaxed Kasumi had ever seen her. In her waking hours, Reiko was always tense and guarded, jumping at every little thing. She shrank away from mistakes, apologized too much, and didn't hold eye contact with people. And she had a haunted look in her eyes that she couldn’t mask entirely.

Tonight, despite Reiko’s best efforts, Kasumi had learned a little more about the circumstances that had brought her here. It had been so much harder to hear about second hand than Kasumi had assumed it would be. Hearing that Genma Saotome had physically and emotionally abused his child, to an extent that she didn’t fully grasp even now, made her furious. And still, she was grateful that Reiko had finally trusted her enough to let her guard down.

The bond she was nurturing with Reiko had lodged itself in her heart right beside the ones she had with Nabiki and Akane, and Kasumi really had meant it when she’d told Reiko she was one of her sisters.

If Reiko’s blood didn’t want her, it was their loss. This girl was part of Kasumi’s family, and she didn’t intend to let her go. Everything was just a little brighter with her around. A little warmer. A little happier. And certainly a little more interesting.  She knew that with time, the warmth and happiness of her presence would grow, and everything it took to get there would be worth it. If getting Reiko settled, making sure she was happy and whole, was the price Kasumi had to pay to have her father back, to have Nabiki engaging emotionally, and to see Akane thriving, then she would pay it.

Before Reiko’s arrival, she hadn’t considered that her life would ever be more than it was right now. That she’d really dream again.

But it could be, and she was. Her father had said she could look into colleges, encouraged it, even. And she hadn’t had to cook last night. Instead, she’d had time to herself. It was precious, and foreign, and honestly freeing.

Her fingers slid through Reiko’s fiery hair in slow, gentle motions as the girl slept, and as Kasumi cradled her head in her lap, she hummed an old lullaby she remembered from her own childhood. A gift, Kasumi thought, from her mother to Reiko. Something to let her know that she was theirs now. That her father couldn’t hurt her anymore.

Hush-a-bye, Hush-a-bye!

My good baby, sleep!

How cute is the face of the baby

The baby fallen asleep?

Kasumi smiled down at the girl in her lap. You’re home safe now, Reiko. Safe with your family who loves you.

One night of peace for Reiko wouldn’t magically heal all of her hurts, but it was a start, and that was more progress than they’d made up to now. And for now that was enough. They could address one thing at a time, like her fear of hot water, or finding Genma Saotome and burying him in a shallow grave.

Kasumi didn’t think she’d ever hated someone before. And she hated a man she’d never met quite entirely.

Who thought it was acceptable to hospitalize a child with hot water of all things? No amount of justifying or explaining would suffice. There was no forgiveness to be earned. Only the promise that if he tried anything to muscle his way back into Reiko’s life after all the poor thing had done to get away and finally heal, she would harm him just as much as he’d harmed Reiko.

And she was surprised by the strength of her own reaction, and the vitriol she felt. Reiko may have only been with them for a short time, but Kasumi loved her unconditionally already. And she looked forward to all the rest of it that would follow. The trust, the friendship, the tears and the laughter.

When her own eyes felt heavy with sleep, she slipped out of the bed as carefully as she could, careful not to wake Reiko, and tucked her into the blankets. She pulled the covers over Reiko’s sleeping form, collected her bottles and hairbrush, and grabbed the empty tray of food. She flicked off the light and made sure the door made no noise on her way out.

Yawning, she deposited her brush and skincare products back in her room and then took the tray back to the kitchen. The dishes could wait until after she’d slept.

Kasumi trudged back up the stairs and, to ease her nerves, checked in on Nabiki and Akane as well. Both of them were asleep. The house was quiet and peaceful and everyone was home. Kasumi barely made it to her own room, and she was drifting off just as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Her alarm blared far too soon for her liking. She groaned and rubbed at her eyes as the incessant ringing filled the room. How long had she slept? Four hours? Part of her considered just… throwing the clock out the window and going back to sleep. But that wouldn’t do. No, there were bentos to be made. Breakfast wasn’t going to make itself. She could nap sometime later today.

And besides, she wouldn’t trade her talk with Reiko for a few more hours sleep.

The early morning light spilled through her window and Kasumi slapped the alarm clock harder than was strictly necessary to silence it. She threw back her covers and rubbed her eyes. Finding the will to get up was difficult, but after a few more minutes hesitation, she was up and heading for the kitchen.

Akane was in the hall, dressed in her jogging clothes and staring forlornly at Reiko’s door. Kasumi swept Akane up into a hug. “Good morning.”

“Yeah…” Akane said, squeezing her back.

“Are you worried about Reiko?” Kasumi asked, keeping her voice quiet so as not to wake any of the others.

“She never came home,” Akane said. “I stayed up kinda late, but never heard her come home.” She bit her lip and looked up at Kasumi. She looked like she might cry.

“Reiko made it back to us just after midnight,” Kasumi said with a smile. “Went to sleep after I fed her. Poor thing was so tired, she fell asleep right away.” She squeezed Akane tighter and rubbed her back in small circles.

Akane exhaled slowly, pressing her face into Kasumi’s shoulder. “Good. I was worried.”

“Me too, Akane,” Kasumi said. “But I think everything will work out just fine. Why don’t you go for your jog and let her sleep in just this once? I’ll make sure she’s up in time to have breakfast.”

Akane nodded. “Yeah, okay.” 

When she pulled herself out of Kasumi’s arms, Akane seemed far more grounded than she had been. She took off down the stairs and Kasumi followed. 

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she entered the kitchen and stifled a yawn with her hand. Cleaning dishes and making breakfast was easy enough, even half asleep as she was, and in a matter of minutes, she had three bentos stuffed, closed and tied. Breakfast followed five minutes later, and she set the table while she waited for the kettle to boil.

Nabiki was the first one to the table, dressed for school but still slightly disheveled. “Good morning!” Kasumi said, placing a tray of food onto the table and sliding a bowl of rice in front of her sister. “The tea is almost done.”

“You’re in a good mood,” Nabiki grunted. “It’s too early to be in a good mood.”

Kasumi giggled. “You always say that. But you’re also usually the first one at the table.”

“I need my beauty breakfast,” Nabiki said. “It’s like beauty sleep, but with food.” 

“Oh, yes, how could I have forgotten?” Kasumi said as she headed back to the kitchen to pour tea for everyone. She scooped tea leaves into the teapot and poured water from the electric kettle overtop. The sweet aroma of green tea wafted to her nose and she inhaled it happily. It would certainly help her feel a little more alert.

She hummed as she set out four Yunomi style mugs and one taller glass. She left the tea to steep and popped her head back into the dining room. Her father and Akane were at the table now, but Reiko must have still been asleep.

-

Ranma woke to a gentle hand on his shoulder and Kasumi’s voice in his ear. “Reiko, sweetheart, it’s time to get up for school.” It took him a moment to process her words as he came back to the waking world. He groaned and pulled the covers tighter around him. Getting up for school sounded awful.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so soundly. Every last inch of him was relaxed in a boneless, tension-free way that was so delightfully alien that he had a hard time even opening his eyes.

“Come on, sleepyhead. Breakfast is all ready for you downstairs.” Kasumi insisted, fingers deftly uncurling his from the blanket and sliding it off of his shoulders. He whined when Kasumi gave him a gentle shake. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned.

“You really do have to get up, Reiko,” Kasumi said with a giggle.

“‘M comfy,” Ranma explained.

“I know you are,” Kasumi said, sitting on the bed next to him, and running her fingers through his hair. He hummed and leaned towards her fingers. “Come on. Once you’re dressed and downstairs you’ll feel better.”

He yawned again, and then opened his eyes and glared at the sunshine streaming in through his window. With a long suffering sigh, he sat up. “Fine. Fine. I’m up.” He hadn’t slept nearly long enough, had stayed up too late, but as far as being woken up went, having Kasumi run her fingers through his hair really wasn’t so bad.

It beat all the times his father had come up with horrific and inventive ways to rouse him from slumber. And she’d been the one who’d sat up with him until he’d calmed down, too. She’d been there. She’d cared. Cared about him in a way that was so foreign and incomprehensible that he didn’t know what to do with the warmth that settled around him when she was nearby.

But she’d never given him a reason to doubt she was genuine. So even if he was terrified this would all go away, that she was going to tell him she’d been lying, he trusted her. Trusted her as much as he could.

When he sat up and shuffled to the edge of the mattress, Kasumi seemed satisfied, and rose from the edge of the bed. His hand caught hers before she took a step, and she turned to him with a raised eyebrow and a concerned look in her eye. 

“Is everything all right?” She asked him.

He studiously looked anywhere but at her.

How could he explain that this was the most all right he’d ever felt? That even though he was a liar, and even though the previous day had been hell on earth… he was grateful to her for being there. “I… just… Thank you. I liked, uhm, talking.”

And that wasn’t enough, but it was all he could get through his lips. 

Kasumi’s face lit up as she smiled and knelt in front of him. Her hands wrapped around his and she ran her thumbs over his fingers. “I’ll be around to talk anytime you want or need.”

“...Kay.”

She gave his hands another squeeze before she rose and left the room. Ranma stared at the closed door for a minute after she left, and then got up and changed into his school uniform. Once he’d dressed, he fiddled with his hair, working it into the braid he normally wore it in. But something in his reflection caught his eye.

The girl was watching him from the mirror like always, but… 

He let his hair fall from the braid he’d halfway put it in, and shook it loose. The girl looked somehow happier that way. The way the hair framed her face and cascaded around her neck to her shoulders made her seem all the more whole.

And yet, she’d never looked less like Ranma Saotome. 

She smiled at him, and his heart lurched. He wasn’t at all sure how he felt about the girl in the mirror being happy. Especially because he was only barely starting to figure out what happy and comfortable even meant. Let alone what it looked or felt like.

Still, Kasumi had taken the time to brush out his hair the night before. Maybe… maybe he could just leave it down. Just for one more day.

He raked his fingers through his hair, working out the tangles that had arrived overnight, and then examined his reflection in the mirror once more. The girl— Reiko, he supposed— was smiling at him nervously.

“Time for school.”

They nodded to each other.

Ranma went downstairs, he was home. Akane hadn’t asked them to kick her out. He was home, Mr. Tendo and Kasumi had stayed up to make sure he was okay. He was home…

Nabiki waved at him when he entered the dining area, patted the empty spot next to her. “Good morning.” She went back to her breakfast, and there was no resentment, no disdain, no animosity. 

Soun was reading a newspaper, Kasumi was bustling around in the kitchen, and Akane was giving him a weird look. He held her gaze for a moment before ducking his head and flushing, shame and embarrassment flaring up with renewed vigor.

She was probably still pissed at him. Probably still thought he was annoying and in her way.

Probably—

Kasumi entered from the kitchen carrying a tray ladened with mugs of tea. Ranma sighed wistfully. He hadn’t had hot tea since before he’d been turned into a girl. But he couldn’t imagine  even trying to partake.

He reached for the rice and some of the fried egg.

She set mugs in front of Soun, Nabiki, Akane, and her own spot at the table before sliding a tall glass in front of Ranma. Ice clinked merrily in the glass and Ranma’s eyes went wide. It was tea, and judging by the color, the same kind that everyone else was drinking, except…

Iced tea?

Ranma stared at the glass for a long moment, and then to the other mugs of tea on the table. His eyes sought Kasumi’s. She had her own chopsticks halfway to her mouth, and she winked at him, but said nothing.

Nobody else had to know.

He’d told her. Relaxed a little bit. Trusted her. And even if he’d not intended to overshare…

‘Thank you,’ he mouthed to her before reaching out with a trembling hand to wrap his fingers around the glass. It was cold and safe, with just the smallest bit of condensation forming on the outside. And when he took a sip, he thought it might have been the best tea he'd ever tasted. After that, breakfast didn't seem so hard to get through, even if Akane wouldn't look at him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22

Akane left for school while Reiko was still eating breakfast. She’d been twisting herself into guilty knots for the past day, and now that Reiko was back home, she found that she didn’t know what to say to her. 

Hey, sorry I called you annoying, it’s just that you’re pretty. Not exactly an acceptable excuse. But what was there to say? She knew she shouldn’t have yelled, shouldn’t have called Reiko names. Her dad had made it clear that Reiko was fragile, and every time Akane thought she understood, something else came up to show her just how much she didn’t. And Reiko was so nice. It wasn’t her fault that she was good at martial arts, or that Kuno wanted to fight her, too.

It was just that everything about Reiko seemed perfectly designed to upend her life. She was seeing all the flaws in her martial arts, even though she was getting better so much faster with Reiko there. Kuno had been holding back when they fought, and she hadn’t even noticed until yesterday. And there was whatever the fuck had happened at Dr. Tofu’s clinic yesterday.

Which…

No. She was not gonna even entertain the thought. She was supposed to be friends with Reiko. Friends. Staring at the girl across the breakfast table wasn’t exactly helping. Her hair had been down again, and despite the tiredness, her eyes seemed warmer. Akane’s belly had done flip flops the entire time they’d sat at the table together. And eventually, it had become too much. 

She’d tried, tried so hard to just apologize, but something kept her from being able to give voice to the words. Instead of muscling through it, she chose to walk to school alone. Getting through her usual fight at school would help her clear her head— she hoped.

Unfortunately, no such reprieve from her internal torment came. She stood, panting in front of Furinkan high school, glaring at the twenty or so idiots that had challenged her that morning as they scrambled away from her. She’d taken them down in a flurry of too hard punches and kicks that she was normally a lot better at pulling so she didn’t hurt anyone.

There was just so much boiling inside her that she couldn’t fucking help it. It wasn’t like a real beat down would help the idiots learn their lesson anyway. Her feelings didn’t matter. No matter how many times she rejected them, no matter how many times she beat them up, no matter how much she raged and fought against Kuno’s stupid declaration, none of them ever learned.

And Akane never had time to process any of it. Because now she wasn’t even sure of what she wanted. It had gone from a visceral declaration of ‘I don’t like boys,’ to an uneasy, terrifying knot in her chest that said ‘maybe I like girls.’

It made her uncomfortable, and she refused to acknowledge it. She wanted nothing more than to smother the thought and just go back to practicing martial arts and staying up late studying with Reiko. Not only would Reiko never feel the same, but it was also not a thing that was done. Girls didn’t do that.  

Why couldn’t she just calm down and move past this thing that was tearing her apart inside? Why was it happening? She’d worked so hard to be like her sisters. To make friends. To be more than the little, karate obsessed kid she had been. And it all felt so fake.  

She stomped towards the school, but was sidelined by Yuka and Sayuri. Each of them grabbed one of her arms, and Yuka gently pried her school bag out of her hands. With surprising firmness, they dragged her away from the front of the school, and into the shade of a tree on the corner of the grounds, where they pushed her onto a bench.

“So that was impressive,” Yuka started. She sounded more sarcastic than actually impressed. “You might have set a new personal best for fastest fight.”

Akane winced, and her eyes flicked back to the boys that were still hobbling towards the school, or the ones that were clutching their ribs or split lips. She’d not held back an ounce. “...Yeah.”

“You wanna tell us what that was about?” Yuka pressed her. “Kuno didn’t say anything to you, did he?”

Akane balked. “What? No! I haven’t seen him. Not since he fought Reiko the other day.”

“Did something happen?” Sayuri asked her.

She hung her head, clenched her fists, and took a breath. “Not really.” 

Yuka and Sayuri exchanged glances.  “Are you, sure?” Sayuri pressed. “You can tell us, you know. We’re your friends.”

She sighed, and really considered venting about it for a second. But what more was there to say that she hadn’t already had out with Nabiki? And if her sister couldn’t help her work through it, then she doubted anyone could. “It’s… it’s nothing. Really. Just a personal thing.”

Yuka and Sayuri spoke at the exact same time.

“If you want to talk—”

“Is it Reiko?”

Akane wanted to scream. To cry. To tell everyone to just leave her alone. She needed to figure out what the fuck was going on in the first place, but nobody was giving her any space. But she didn’t want to yell at Yuka and Sayuri, too. Blowing up on Reiko had been shitty enough.

“What did you two want?” Akane said, changing the subject. “Is one of the boys bothering you?”

“We’re just checking on our friend,” Sayuri said. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.”

Was it? Akane glanced up at them. They were grinning at her. “I don’t.”

They exchanged another glance, and then Yuka changed the subject. “So, Akane, what did you want to do first when we go out this weekend?” They really were the best friends a girl could ask for.

-

Kasumi took a fortifying breath and slid the door to Dr. Tofu’s clinic open. She stepped into the little waiting room. A bell over the door jingled, and she took the seat nearest the front desk. A moment later, the doctor in question emerged from the back, adjusting his glasses and sipping from a mug of coffee.

When he spotted her, his face lit up and he flushed. She liked the way he looked at her. She liked it a lot. “Oh! K-Kasumi! It’s so nice to see you! Did you need anything? How was your walk over? I had no idea you were coming by. Is everything okay? You’re not hurt, are you? I can fix you up right away, of course.”

She giggled. For as handsome a man as he was, he certainly enjoyed putting on a show of silliness for her. “Good morning to you, too, Dr. Tofu. I’m not hurt, no. I came here to ask you a couple of questions, and to schedule an appointment for Reiko.”

He put his coffee mug down on the little counter that served as a reception desk, and fumbled with a clipboard. The pen clattered to the floor and he laughed boisterously as he bent to retrieve it. “An appointment for Reiko? She’s the girl I saw just the other day, isn’t she? She came by with Akane before school.”

“Oh! You’ve met her?” Kasumi said. “Isn’t she just the sweetest thing?”

He fiddled with the clip on the board. “She was mostly just quiet. Came into the clinic completely soaked. Got her all dried off and sent to school.”

Well, that explained the hair. She’d wondered why Reiko had decided to switch things up and wear it down yesterday, not that it didn’t suit her wonderfully. That tight little braid she always wore it in had done a lot to hide just how gorgeous her hair was. She shone like the sun with it down.

“Thank you for helping her,” Kasumi said. “It means a lot to me.”

“Of course! Any time! Anything. I mean, if you need anything. I’m happy to help.” He dropped the pen again.

“So, Dr. Tofu, Reiko needs to have some bloodwork done. Since you’re the family practice doctor and chiropractor, I was wondering if you’d be willing to take her on as a new patient.” Kasumi opened her purse, and picked out the folded paper she’d received in the mail that morning. “She’s fallen through the cracks, unfortunately, and we’re doing what we can to get her settled in. But she doesn’t have any of the proper documentation. Her case worker is trying to find her birth parents, but so far no luck.”

“I can do that,” Dr. Tofu said. “Does she need a routine checkup?”

“It probably wouldn’t hurt,” Kasumi said. “She’s… had a hard time.”

He jotted something on his clipboard, set it down, and dropped his pen again. He laughed, but left it where it was. He flipped open a little day planner that was on the counter. “I have availability this Friday. Mrs. Arima cancelled her appointment yesterday and I haven’t filled the hour yet. If that doesn’t work… It’d have to wait a week or so.”

“When on Friday?” Kasumi asked.

“Ten o’clock,” Dr. Tofu said.

During school? She knew Reiko was worried about staying caught up, but she could handle the first year high school curriculum at home if she fell behind. “That’s perfect. I’ll bring her by on Friday, then.”

She slid the paper back into her purse.

“I’ll see you then!” Dr. Tofu said, almost too enthusiastically. He looked around for his pen to make a note of the appointment, realized it was on the floor, bent to pick it up, and slammed his head into the counter. He grunted with pain.

Kasumi hurried over to the counter. “Oh my, Dr. Tofu, are you okay?”

He was rubbing his forehead and waving her off with the other hand. “Me? Of course! A little thing like that isn’t gonna slow me down. I just dropped my pen and was a little too excited about getting it back. Now let me make note of that appointment.” He fumbled for the day planner without looking down at the counter again, and grabbed the first vaguely book shaped thing he felt. He held up an anatomy book and made a show of opening it. When he looked down at the pages, he turned bright red, and switched the book and the planner.

She was giggling along with his antics. He really was a silly man. Kind and gentle and very good at keeping his work lighthearted. She appreciated him for it, and for answering her questions and letting her borrow his medical texts when she asked.

When he’d marked the appointment in his calendar, she changed the subject.

“I was hoping to ask you for some help applying to the University of Tokyo. I want to go into their medical program, and I know you graduated from there.”

He hummed. “I’d be happy to. What did you want to know?”

“I still need to study for the ranking exam to qualify. The next slate of exams is this summer. I’d love some help getting my prep materials together.” She drummed her fingers on the counter, and leaned forward a little bit. She’d worn her cutest spring dress for this. Done her makeup. Put her hair up with her favorite hair clip. Ask me out.

She’d committed to applying for university. She could afford to flirt with the handsome doctor. She could live a little. Her sisters were growing up, and she could have things she wanted, too.

“W-well… I think I have some things you can borrow,” Dr. Tofu said. “Do you have a list of recommended study materials?”

“I do,” Kasumi said levelly.

“If you get that to me, I’ll make sure you have all the books you need! You’re more than smart enough to tackle the exam, so I’m sure you’ll get a high score.” He was ripping up a prescription pad while he talked.

She bit back a sigh of disappointment. “Thank you, Dr. Tofu.” She flashed him her brightest smile. She reached back into her purse and produced a list of the recommended study materials. Kasumi had written it out on her cutest stationery.

He took it and read through it. “I have most of these. But not all of them. You’ll need to get these ones.” He pointed them out to her.

“Okay,” Kasumi said. “Thank you.”

Kasumi gave him a small bow and turned to leave. She made it three steps before his voice cut the silence. 

“Kasumi?”

She swallowed, willed her heart to beat a little slower, and turned around. “Yes, Dr. Tofu?”

“It was nice to see you.”

-

Akane had done her best not to interact with Reiko during school. Had done a commendable job, she thought. She’d sat next to the redhead during class and rocketed out of her seat at each bell to hide behind Yuka and Sayuri. And had felt guilt at the relief she felt when Reiko agreed to eat lunch with Emi instead of them that day. It was just a little longer that she didn’t have to deal with all the shit she was feeling. A little longer where she could pretend that everything was normal.

Now that classes were over for the day, Akane was chatting with Yuka in their homeroom, and keeping an eye on Reiko to make sure they didn’t leave at the same time. She wasn’t ready yet. She needed more time. She was scared.

All Akane wanted to do was go home and blow off steam with Reiko in the dojo, but every time she so much as looked at the girl, her belly felt weird and her heart hammered in her chest like it was going to explode. 

What made it worse, was that she was unsure if she should be more annoyed with Reiko for upending her life so casually, or with herself for whatever she was dealing with. All because her friend was pretty.

It didn’t help that she was a kickass martial artist.

It didn’t help that she looked radiant with her hair down.

It didn’t help that she was adorably timid and shy.

Akane watched as Reiko giggled at something Emi said. Her face lit up with a smile, and that sad look in her eyes seemed farther away, even if just for a moment. Akane wanted to make Reiko smile like that. But every time they’d made eye contact for the last two days, Reiko would huddle in on herself and try to hide that heartbroken look on her face.

“...ne? Akane?” 

She blinked and looked at Yuka, who was giving her a worried look. “Sorry. What?”

Yuka laughed. “Akane, you’re a mess today. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“...Yeah. Yeah. I’m sure,” Akane said. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

Yuka rolled her eyes. “I was saying, Sayuri’s birthday is coming up. You do remember your friends birthday, don’t you? The one that happens every year?”

Akane had the good grace to look abashed. “Of course I do!”

“Well, I have it on good authority that she’s getting a CD player this year, so I was thinking we could all go and pick out some albums for her.”

“Woah! No way! A CD player?” Akane’s eyes lit up. That was so cool!

“She’s been big into music since junior high, and she’s always wearing through her cassettes. Apparently CDs don’t do that, so her parents are going all out.” Yuka waved a hand. “I have to admit, I’m a little jealous. But still, we should make sure she has all her favorites to listen to.”

Akane couldn’t agree more. “We can probably sneak away and get her presents while we’re out on Saturday.”

“Yeah,” Yuka said. “I was thinking the same thing. You should tell Reiko, yeah? She’s gonna be with us.”

Akane frowned. “I will.” 

If she could work up the nerve to just apologize for yelling the day before. But everytime she thought she was ready, she got all tongue tied.

“Good! Then it’s a date!” Emi shouted. Akane’s head snapped towards the offending sound. Emi was giggling and grinning from ear to ear and Akane felt her heart fall into her stomach. She hugged Reiko excitedly before skipping for the door. “See you after school on Friday!”

Reiko was smiling, too.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23

Ranma had tried, and failed, to strike up a conversation with Akane several times that day. His mood had swung wildly from despondency at the rift between him and his friend, and then to hope and a blossoming sense of belonging at having been claimed by Kasumi as a sister, and also to crushing guilt at the entire situation. All of it was based on a lie.

Emi, bless her heart, had picked up on his awkwardness and was now dragging him from the classroom for lunch. He’d tried to beg off, really he had, but she seemed immune to his ability to mope. Her left hand had wrapped firmly around his right, and she’d clearly stated that she wasn’t taking no for an answer. And as they sat down in the grass by the soccer field, he had to admit the sunshine and the company was nicer than moping in the classroom. Her thousand-watt smile was infectious, and he felt a little bit better sitting beside her than he had all day.

She produced a store-bought sandwich from her bag, and leaned back in the grass with a contented sigh. Her gaze was fixed on a pair of birds while she unwrapped it and took a bite. “Ahh,” she said. “I was starving!”

Ranma untied his bento, eyeing her curiously. He really didn’t know what to say to her, didn’t know much of anything about anything she liked, and he knew fuckall about photography. He picked at the rice with his chopsticks for a moment, feeling awkward.

Emi took another massive bite of her sandwich and grinned at him.  “So there’s a new camera that Canon is releasing that has an electronic lens. It’s supposed to focus on the subject of whatever you’re shooting without having to adjust anything manually, and the club is trying to get the school to order some of them. I think they’re so cool! But I doubt we’ll get them this term.”

He blinked at her. How did she do that? Just… talk about stuff? He was always so caught up in his own mind, always worried over the guilt, the self-loathing, the shit he was trying to get through. It was overwhelming on a good day.  And she could just sit next to him and make everything seem so normal.

It was something he both appreciated and envied, because without her, he knew he’d be sitting upstairs with his head on his desk, thinking of all the worst-case scenarios that had yet to derail his life.

Ranma stared at her, awestruck as she plowed on.

“Of course, Nikon has a new offering coming as well, and I’m sure they’ll have trade-offs in terms of features. The problem is, new cameras like that are too expensive for club members to go out and buy on their own. So we need to go through the school administration. Our club’s president is writing a request for new cameras.”

“Uh, good luck? I mean—” What did he mean? He had no idea what else he was supposed to say. “I hope you get them.”

Emi giggled around a mouthful of sandwich. She chewed, swallowed, and grinned at him. “You really are hopeless at talking, Reiko.” When he sputtered and tried to deny it her giggles turned into belly laughs. “It’s cute.”

Ranma felt the blood rush to his face. “W-w-what?”

“It’s not a bad thing, ” Emi said, as she too, blushed. “You’re just terse. You never say more than you mean to, and I… like that.”

He hummed by way of answer, afraid to say anything. 

Emi watched him for a moment longer before she let the topic die, and lay flat on her back in the grass, watching the clouds lazily float by, and rocking her feet from side to side. 

He felt like he said all sorts of awkward shit all the time, but if she found it cute, he could deal. He supposed. There were worse adjectives. And the general consensus seemed to be that Reiko was attractive. But as the silence stretched between them, he felt like it was his turn to talk. “Uh… do you… do you want some of my bento?”

Kasumi’s cooking surely had to be better than the premade sandwich she’d all but swallowed whole.

“Sure!” She said, sitting back up and scooting over to sit beside him. When their shoulders were touching, Emi leaned over his bento and examined her options. She reached out and plucked a Tako Sausage from the box with her fingers. “Oooh! I haven’t had a little octopus hotdog in ages.” She popped it in her mouth and hummed contentedly.

“So tasty!” Emi declared.

“I… uh… glad you like it.” He scratched at the back of his head.

There was another moment of silence, and then Emi leaned back over his bento, snagging a slice of cucumber. “You wore your hair down again.”

“...Yeah,” Ranma said, suddenly feeling self conscious. She was really close. Close enough that he could smell her floral shampoo on the breeze.

Emi was brushing shoulders with him again, her green eyes watching his face carefully. His breath hitched at her proximity. “Do you like it?”

Did he?

Grateful for an excuse to break eye contact, he glanced at his shoulders and pinched some of his hair between the fingers on his left hand. He considered his fiery hair. Today, for some reason, it wasn’t so scary. It was more comfortable. His scalp wasn’t as tender this way, and his reflection had… seemed happier this way. And what was more, the way different shades of red and lighter orange flecked between one another was really pretty.  “I… I think I do.”

“I’m happy for you,” she said.

They devolved into giggles when they both reached for the same sausage at the same time, and Ranma thought that he’d made a friend all on his own.

After lunch, they returned to the classroom, and Ranma thought that maybe he’d try apologizing to Akane again, but the look on her face killed that plan before it had a chance to fully form, and he spent the remainder of the day taking notes and leaning so that he wouldn’t accidentally look at her out of the corner of his eye.

When the end of day bell rang, Akane was out of her seat and walking away from him before he’d even put his notebook in his bag. So much for walking home together. He supposed she really didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. She’d not said a word to him since she’d called him annoying the day before. And two days of dour looks and the silent treatment was more than enough for him to get the memo.

She didn’t want to be his friend anymore.

And that fucking hurt.

The nights spent in the dojo with her, or sitting up late doing homework, had been his favorite. And it was just… gone. He tried to keep his face neutral as she walked away, and focused on packing up his things for the day. 

He shouldered his bag, not wanting to glance over his shoulder and see Akane scowling at him, and made for the door. Sayuri caught up to him before he crossed the threshold. 

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he said, wincing a little at how dejected he sounded.

“Look, I know Akane’s been bothered about something the past couple days. Yuka and I are trying to get her to talk to us about it. I’m off to get us some tea. We’ll have her feeling better by Saturday, okay?” She winked at him.

He stared at her incredulously. “I’m still invited?”

“Of course you are,” Sayuri said, patting him on the shoulder and heading out the door. He watched her go, head spinning. He’d been certain that their outing the coming weekend was strictly off limits to him after his fight with Akane. But… maybe…

Maybe he could…

Emi tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, you.”

“Oh, hey Emi.”

“Did you get invited to a funeral?” She asked him.

“What?” He asked her.

She giggled. “You look like someone gave you terrible news.”

He opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it, closed it again, and shrugged.

“It was upperclassman Kuno, wasn’t it?” Emi asked. “He’s died and you’ll never experience the rush of beating him in a fight again. Can’t use your ninja moves anymore.”

He couldn’t help it. He laughed, and for a moment, he wasn’t so worried about Akane and their fight. 

“There’s that smile,” Emi said. Then, quite abruptly, she shifted gears. “So… tomorrow is Friday,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her and rocking back and forth. She was watching him with those big green eyes of hers, and she seemed a little bit nervous.

“...Yeah?” He said, not following her meaning.

She took a deep breath, as if steadying herself before going to battle. “After school tomorrow, will you come with me when I go to the darkroom to develop my film?” 

“I don’t…” He didn’t what? Didn’t think it was a good idea? “I’ll just be in the way.”

“Reiko… I don’t think you could ever be in my way,” Emi said, blushing furiously. When he didn’t say anything else, she continued. “Look, it’s kind of time consuming and I don’t want to do it alone. And since you seem determined not to pick up a hobby, I figured you could join me. If you bring snacks I’ll get us some soda pop or something and we’ll make a thing of it.”

Having something to do besides mope around after school would be nice. And… he liked spending time with Emi. She was good at keeping him focused on the present, on not getting so lost in his own head.

“Yeah… yeah, okay. I’ll come.” He said at last.

She lit up brighter than a Christmas tree, her whole face splitting into a dazzling smile. “Good! Then it’s a date!”

He flushed scarlet as she lunged forward to hug him, her arms locking his own at his sides. He was beyond shocked when her sudden and impromptu hug didn’t put him on edge. As her arms wrapped around him he stiffened for just a moment, and then relaxed into her enthusiasm. It was, surprisingly, nice. Half a second later she was skipping towards the door, and he was watching her go and grinning like an idiot.

-

Soun looked up from the little table when Akane stomped into the kitchen, a scowl firmly set on her face. She threw the door to the refrigerator open, pulled out a jug of juice and slammed it on the counter, and then nearly ripped the door off the cupboard when she went to get a glass.

He set his final draft of his dojo advertisement on the table and removed his reading glasses. 

“Good day?” He asked sarcastically.

“Why does everybody keep checking in on me?” Akane snarled as she uncapped the juice. She spilled nearly as much as she got into the glass, and tossed the jug back into the refrigerator.

While he was genuinely worried for his daughter, he had to school his features to keep from smiling at her outburst. She was a passionate child, and sometimes her frustrations were taken to extremes when she was working through her emotions.

“Probably because we care about you, daughter mine,” Soun said. “I take it you do not wish to talk about it?”

She gulped down her glass of juice and set it back on the counter a little bit too roughly. He was honestly surprised it didn’t shatter. “What do you think, dad?” She stomped across the kitchen in search of a rag to wipe up her spilled juice with.

He held up his hands to forestall any of his dishes being shattered. “I think, perhaps it’s best if you go and change into something you can move about in and meet me in the dojo.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I’m going out to the dojo to practice,” Soun said. “You should join me.”

He could see the wind of anger leave her sails and her mind working overtime as she processed what he had said more than once to make sure she hadn’t misheard him. “You… want to go… to the dojo?”

Her voice was quiet and fragile. Soun rose from his seat, crossed the kitchen and drew her into his arms. “What would you say to spending the afternoon training with your old man?”

Akane’s hands fisted in his shirt and she drew a ragged breath. “Daddy?”

“I love you,” was all he managed to say before his voice broke. He swallowed the lump that lodged itself between his lungs and his voicebox and cleared his throat. “Now, go on and get changed. I’ll clean this up.”

She sniffled into his shirt and then pulled away from him, wiping her eyes. He was worried she was going to say no, and then her expression brightened and a smile lit up her face like the sun parting clouds after a storm. She was out of the room in a flash and he heard her footfalls thumping up the stairs half a second later.

He smiled after her and wiped his eyes before wiping down the counter with a dish towel. He tidied up the counter, examined the cupboard to make sure the hinges were okay, and then headed up the stairs to get changed into his own gi.

Soun hadn’t trained with Akane in years. He’d barely trained on his own if he was being honest with himself. He was not as young as he had been the last time he’d worked kata with his daughter, and he was petrified he was too out of shape and out of practice to put her through her paces. Most of all he was worried he’d let her down or disappoint her in some way.

He knew he’d certainly done that enough these past seven years, and he couldn’t bear the thought of doing it any longer. If hanging up his gi all those years ago had been for himself— a way to bury himself in grief and hide from all the hurts that came with addressing it, putting them back on today was for her. For his youngest daughter who had watched her whole world fall apart before she was old enough to understand what had even happened.

And as he tied the black belt around his waist and cinched it shut with a sharp pull of fabric, he worried that he wasn’t good enough to teach her anymore. She’d kept up her practice, stayed in shape, let her grief fuel her growth, and eventually found an instructor in Reiko.

He examined his reflection in the mirror, took a shaky breath to steady himself, and picked at his too-long hair. It would get in the way if they decided to spar. He’d not worn it this long before… before… 

Akari died.

His wife had died and left him all alone to raise three girls, and it had destroyed him. He’d been so lost and so bitter for so long that it had become a hole he couldn’t climb out of. And every time his children, his babies, had needed him… he hadn’t been there.

It was a sin so unforgivable that every time he failed them he dug his hole a little deeper. And eventually not even light reached him anymore. 

Kasumi gave up her dreams.

Nabiki locked away her heart.

Akane hid who she was.

And he may as well have died with his wife.

Until one day…

It was like heaven had brought them someone just so they could have another chance. Like Akari herself had pushed someone who needed them onto their doorstep, just so they could realize how much they needed her and how much they needed each other.

And light had shone through.

He tore his gaze away from his reflection and opened the drawer of his late wife’s nightstand. His eyes lingered on the little things he’d left untouched all these years. The jewelry box that held her wedding ring and her favorite jewelry, the book she’d been reading that was only half finished, a little box of hair accessories, a framed photograph of all five of them, a crooked scarf Kasumi had knitted when Akari was sick, a birthday card from Akane, and the pieces of a locket Nabiki had broken in her grief.

He stared at the contents of that drawer for an agonizing moment, and then, with trembling fingers, he opened the box of her hair accessories. It took Soun a little longer than he would ever admit to pick a hair tie. He chose one that he knew matched the bow that was in Akane’s hair. He brought it to his nose and caught the slightest lingering scent of his wife. 

Soun closed his eyes and for a moment he was cuddling Akari, keeping her feet warm with his, and trying to keep her hair from tickling his nose. He felt the phantom weight of her back pressed against his chest, and the way her breathing sounded when she was sleeping.

And then he was back in his bedroom, alone.

He took a breath and let his grief slide over him. It hurt. It always hurt, it was always too much.

But Akane was waiting for him out in the dojo, and the smallest trace of a smile reached the corner of his lips. His grief couldn’t take that away from him this time. There was nothing in the world that could keep him from spending the afternoon with her. He pulled his hair back and secured it with Akari’s hair tie. Today both of Akane’s parents would be with her in the dojo.

There was a nervous eagerness to his strides as he made his way downstairs and out to the dojo. He slid the door open to find Akane stretching, her brow furrowed. She was frowning and glaring at her toes. When he stepped across the threshold, her eyes lit up with excitement and her brows relaxed.

“Is everything okay?” he asked her.

She flushed and looked away from him. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. I was just… it’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

He was kneeling before her in a flash, gently lifting her chin with a finger. “If something is bothering you, sweetheart, it’s never stupid. I know I’ve been… hard to approach, but I’m here. I want to be here.”

Akane nodded. Her eyes shone with emotion. “I just… you took so long to get changed. I was worried… you weren’t gonna come.”

If there was anything she could have said to break his heart, that was it. Akane had been expecting disappointment. He cupped her face with one hand and brushed a thumb over her cheek. “Oh, Akane.”

What was there to say? She was right to be afraid, of course. To expect that of him.

“But you’re here now,” she said with a bright smile and watery eyes.

He nodded. “I’m here now.”

He wasn't going to go anywhere ever again. All that was left was to be here, to see his daughters thrive.

“What made you want to practice?” Akane asked, wiping her eyes. 

He chuckled, and settled on the floor beside her, letting his hand slide from her face. “I’m reopening the dojo, and I figured I should get back in sha—”

Akane’s delighted squeal cut him off just as sure as the impact of her tackling him into a hug. She kicked her feet and giggled. Every ounce of her was angelic in its joy, and he hated that his own pain had ever smothered her light. Soun knew that he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

“Daddy I’m so proud of you!”

Half tackled onto the wooden floor of the dojo, Soun felt tears slip from his eyes. His arms wrapped around his youngest daughter and he clutched her to him desperately. She was proud of him? He begged to differ, he was quite certain he was the one who was proud of her.

“I’m going to need an assistant instructor, you know,” he managed. 

She gasped. “M-me?”

“I can’t think of anyone better,” he said. “Now, let’s stretch before we spend all afternoon crying on the floor.”

Akane squeezed him again and choked a teary laugh. “Would that be so bad?”

No. No it wouldn’t.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

Kasumi was settled on the veranda reading through one of the secondhand college prep books she’d purchased after leaving Dr. Tofu’s clinic. It was worn and battered and one edition older than the one on the recommended materials list, but it was what she could afford, and it was hers. It meant, in no uncertain terms, that her life was hers to live again. And she wanted to soar. She was going to kick that exam’s ass.

She was going to be a fucking doctor.

Every so often, she jotted something down in the little notebook beside her or sipped at the carbonated soft drink she’d purchased for herself at the corner store. Her eyes were bright with delight, brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to commit every word to memory.

She looked up when the front door opened, watched for a moment as Akane stomped into the house and made her way to the kitchen. The violent banging that followed had her halfway up before it stopped quite abruptly, and then Akane was sprinting from the kitchen with a grin splitting her face from ear to ear. When her father followed a moment later, Kasumi couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at her lips.

Reiko came home second, looking considerably less mopey and frazzled than normal. In fact, if Kasumi had to guess, Reiko was in a good mood. And it was adorable.

“Reiko, sweetie, would you mind joining me for a second?” Kasumi asked, dog-earing the book as she closed it. 

Reiko stopped halfway to the stairs, whirled about with a tentative expression on her face, and hesitated for a moment before sinking down onto the veranda beside her. Kasumi half watched her out of the corner of her eye as she set her school bag beside her, pulled her knees to her chest, and rested her chin on her knees. She wiggled her toes and stared out at the koi pond.

Did she think she was in trouble?

If Kasumi was being honest with herself, Reiko probably did expect the worst. That would have to be nipped in the bud. “I just wanted to let you know that I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you. That way we can get your paperwork moving forward and hopefully get you some official identification.”

Reiko nodded, and Kasumi could see some of the nervousness leave her. “Okay.” 

Another beat of silence and then, “When is it?”

“Tomorrow,” Kasumi said.

“Tomorrow?!” Reiko asked, face falling. She curled in on herself even more than she already was. “But I have something to do after school.”

“In the morning,” Kasumi explained. “I’ll have to pull you out of class for an hour or so.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say, at least. Reiko relaxed a little bit, but she was still tense. “...Okay.”

“We got the forms from your case worker, and I scheduled you for a physical and a blood draw with Dr. Tofu,” Kasumi said.

“Oh…” Reiko took a deep breath and Kasumi could see her grappling with something.

“What is it?” Kasumi asked.

“Dr. Tofu… makes me uncomfortable,” Reiko said quietly. “Akane took me there the other day, and I just… I don’t know…”

“He makes you uncomfortable?” Kasumi asked.

“Sorry,” Reiko said.

“Did something happen?” 

“...No.” Reiko sighed. “I don’t really know why. He just… I was on edge the entire time I was there.”

Kasumi frowned. The doctor was about as harmless as a guy could get, but if Reiko was uncomfortable, she’d do what she could. “I’ll be with you the whole time, okay?” 

“You promise?” Reiko asked, looking sideways at her. Kasumi could see her desperate need to have someone in her corner.

“I promise,” she said. Because of course she would. It was never in question.

Reiko searched her face for a second longer before nodding and looking back out into the yard. “I’m glad the appointment is in the morning. I said I would hang out with one of the girls in my class after school.”

“You did?” Kasumi asked. “That’s great news.”

“Yeah,” Reiko said. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“I think so, too,” Kasumi said. “I’m happy that you’re making some new friends.”

“I’m supposed to bring snacks. Emi said she’d bring drinks,” Reiko said. “I think I can afford some chips or something. I hope it’s enough.”

Kasumi shifted her weight and scooted a little closer to Reiko. “You’ll do no such thing. Save your money, Reiko. If you need to bring treats to your event, I’ll be sure you have something to take.”

Reiko exhaled sharply, but Kasumi could see the ghost of a grin on her face. “Thanks, Kasumi.” And then, quite to Kasumi’s surprise, Reiko leaned over, pressing her shoulder into Kasumi’s and resting her head on her shoulder. For all that Reiko was a jumpy little thing, Kasumi was overjoyed that they’d reached a place where Reiko was comfortable with physical contact with her.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.

“What are you reading?” Reiko asked eventually.

“It’s a college prep book,” Kasumi answered, holding it out to Reiko. The redhead inspected it for a moment curiously, and then her blue eyes lit up with delight as she looked at Kasumi.

“You’re studying for college?” Reiko asked.

Kasumi giggled and nodded. “Yes!”

“You’re so cool,” Reiko said, awestruck. “That’s really awesome.”

“It is pretty cool,” Kasumi agreed.

“Uh… can I… do you— do you need, like, help or anything?” Reiko asked, or tried to, as she self-destructed before her. She was looking anywhere but at Kasumi. “I know I’m not— I can’t— I’m not smart enough to help you learn or anything, but if you need— I don’t know, I just—”

Kasumi reached out, shifting just enough to wrap Reiko up in a side hug. “Breathe, Reiko. Just breathe.”

“S-sorry,” she said, flushing bright red. “I know I’m useless.”

“Don’t talk down on yourself,” Kasumi admonished. One of these days she’d get Reiko to admit she was a beautiful little ball of smarts and sunshine and badassery, and that she deserved to feel good about herself. Today, however, was not that day.

“Sorry,” Reiko mumbled again, looking down. “I shouldn’t have asked. It was stupid.”

Kasumi gave Reiko another squeeze. “It wasn’t stupid. I appreciate the offer. I’ll be sure to take you up on it.”

Reiko hummed noncommittally. “You don’t have to do it just to be nice.”

“I’d really appreciate a study buddy,” Kasumi said. “Maybe I’ll start bringing this to our homework sessions. And you can always help me with flashcards and stuff.” She took a swig of her soft drink, and offered it to Reiko, who eyed it curiously before taking a sip herself. 

She watched Reiko’s eyes light up in approval as she spun the bottle around to read the label.

“You like it?” Kasumi asked.

“Yeah,” Reiko said, passing it back. “It’s good.”

Kasumi twisted the bottle around in her hands. “You’re smart enough to help me study, you know. Smart enough to go to college yourself if you want to.” Reiko opened her mouth to protest, but Kasumi plowed forward. “Not having a traditional education doesn’t make you stupid. It makes me so sad to see you think that of yourself. And Reiko, I’ve sat up with you enough nights to know you’re a smart kid. You pick things up quick as a whip. You’re keeping up in your classes, getting your homework done, and trying your best. If you keep it up… well, sky’s the limit for you little sister.”

Reiko looked at her like she’d suddenly grown fangs, and then her expression became pensive, and she stared out at the koi pond again. She could see the gears turning in Reiko’s head, could practically hear her internal monologue as she argued with herself against Kasumi’s praise and assessment of her. 

When it became clear that Reiko didn’t know what to say to all that, she buried her face in Kasumi’s shoulder to hide her blush.

Kasumi rubbed Reiko’s shoulder and kept the younger girl pressed to her side. With her free hand, she cracked her book open again and kept reading. Reiko, for her part, seemed to be in no hurry to go anywhere, and Kasumi was more than happy to have her company.

“Can I… sit with you and do my homework?” Reiko asked quietly.

“I’d love that,” Kasumi said, grinning down at her.

Nabiki didn’t like the unfamiliar sensation of fury that flooded her veins when she saw her father and Akane laughing as they entered the kitchen. It caught her so entirely off guard that she dropped the popsicle she’d just taken out of the freezer. It fell to the ground with a dull thunk, and she swore under her breath and bent to pick it up. She fumbled with the packaging and stared at them.

Never before had she watched Akane giggle at something and been pissed off just because she was happy. Both she and her dad had towels around their necks and were both slick with sweat from a workout. They were laughing. Laughing, and her dad had his arm around Akane. 

It was a picture she hadn’t seen… ever. Well, maybe she had when they’d been little, but she didn’t remember it. The two of them looked so happy, and for some reason that annoyed her. She shoved the end of the popsicle in her mouth to hide her frown, and shuffled towards the little table in the kitchen to get out of their way while they got water.

Her dad was talking animatedly about whatever training session they’d just had. He was present in a way she hadn’t seen since her mom had died. Akane was a whirlwind of emotions most of the time, and she’d had a rough couple of days, so Nabiki felt like she should be overjoyed to see her smiling. 

And instead she was— she didn’t know what she was.

She knew that she didn’t like all the feelings she was having— had been having. It was like Reiko had showed up and found a spot in her emotional wall that was leaky, and Nabiki had no idea how to make it stop.

More troubling than that, however, was how negative most of them had been. And this, now, was the worst of all. She was sitting in the kitchen, watching her family be alive and well and not devastatingly sad for once, and she was one stupid question away from yelling at someone.

Seeing her dad and sister happy was supposed to be a good thing. So why wasn’t she happy? She bit into the popsicle and winced at the discomfort of the icy treat on her teeth. She chewed through the popsicle as casually as she could, letting the not-quite shooting pain of cold on her teeth mingle with the impending brain freeze while she tried, desperately, to get a handle on her own simmering fury at nothing.

There was no reason to be upset. No reason to get mad or feel jealous. Was that it? Was she jealous of Akane? Nabiki didn’t really have a frame of reference for jealousy. Hadn’t ever been jealous of anyone or anything. She’d never let herself crush hard enough on a boy to get territorial, never let herself fight with Akane over a favorite toy, never said no to her sisters borrowing her clothes. 

She only ever let the two of them in.

Until she’d gone ahead and held a crying stranger, rocked her to sleep, and made herself available for Akane and all her turbulent bullshit at fucking school.

Kasumi popped her head into the kitchen. “Oh my! All of you are in here? Would it be okay if you cleared out so I can start dinner?”

Nabiki got to her feet without a word, and forced herself to take calm, measured steps out the door. When she looked down at what Kasumi was holding, she was surprised to see a college prep book instead of a bag of groceries.

Another spike of fury drove its way into her heart and she clenched a fist. Kasumi was getting ready for college exams. That was good. So why wasn’t she fucking happy about it? Her sisters were happy. She should be, too.

And if she couldn’t be happy, why couldn’t she at least be indifferent? She’d spent years doing that. Had cultivated it until it was what she was known for. For years she’d gone out of her way not to feel anything. She didn’t get frustrated, or sad, or happy. Not scared or annoyed or lonely. She was just there to find enjoyment in things that didn’t have strings attached to them. But she’d made sure that her sisters could rely on her, even if she was, objectively, horrid to everyone else in her life.

Now, she was watching her baby sister and her dad bonding. Now, she was watching Kasumi chasing her dream.

Nabiki wasn’t bonding with anyone, wasn’t chasing a dream, wasn’t…

She realized that most days she was just floating, clinging to indifference like it was a life-preserver. Once in the hall, she all but ran to her room and tried to bury herself in fashion magazines.

They didn’t have the same appeal as they usually did.

Stop it, she told herself. I don’t do this. I don’t get upset.

Especially because she wasn’t even entirely sure why she was angry in the first place. She was mad, sure, and possibly she was jealous. But she didn’t know for sure. Didn’t know what that fucking felt like. And even if she was… There was no reason to be. Her sisters were downstairs right now, radiant. Her dad was laughing and smiling, and that was perhaps even more foreign to her than her own storm of feelings.

She considered the emotion that had her so off balance, a dull ache of raw hurt that she didn’t know what to do with. Where had it come from? She massaged her chest softly, hoping against hope that a simple, physical action could just make it go away. 

The ache didn’t leave, and she didn’t know why it was happening. She was supposed to be okay. Her sisters were happy. Her dad was practicing martial arts again. Nothing was wrong, and that was the most troubling thing of all.

Akane lingered outside Reiko’s door, hand halfway raised to knock. She needed to talk to her friend. To apologize for screaming at her, for ignoring her, for making her feel like shit. Sayuri had reported back that afternoon, tea in hand, that Reiko was convinced that she was no longer welcome to spend time with them on Saturday. Which was insane, because going out on Saturday was expressly for Reiko.

Reiko never, ever went out. Never did anything but go to school and work on her homework and do her best to adjust to not living the way she had previously. At least she had Kasumi. God knows I’ve been no help, Akane thought bitterly. So the fact that Akane’s behavior made Reiko think she wasn’t supposed to come with them made her feel like shit. But at this point it was just one more thing on the massive pile of bitter guilt she was dealing with.

Sparring with her dad had helped. A lot.

She felt more grounded now than she had in days, and it was because some other part of her had been stitched back together with warm reassurance and affection. The last time she’d gone out to the dojo with her dad she’d still been in primary school. And while he was certainly out of practice, it had been so wonderful to spend the afternoon with him. 

Today had been hard. Dealing with her own turbulent emotions as she tried to understand just what she was even feeling, and watching as Reiko was asked out on a fucking date. A date. Emi had said it herself. 

But girls didn’t go on dates with other girls. It had to be something else. It had to be. Just a turn of phrase. They were going to hang out and do something.

Like kiss.

Which… no. Akane didn’t want to think about Reiko kissing Emi. That made her heart lurch in all sorts of uncomfortable ways that she didn’t know what to do with.

And yet… thinking about Reiko kissing her didn’t make her squirm quite so much.

Was she jealous?

I’m not gay.

Akane lowered her hand and stared forlornly at the door. If she saw Reiko when she was all knotted up inside, she’d probably blow up again and make things worse. Even if all she had to say was ‘I’m sorry. I still want to be friends.’ Because she was certain she’d stick her foot in her mouth. And once it started, she’d blow up. She’d yell.

It was what she did when she was upset. She lashed out.

Taking a step back from the door, Akane swallowed nervously. Maybe she could just mention tomorrow, in passing, somewhere Reiko could hear that she was excited for the four of them to spend the day together on Saturday.

That would be enough, right?

Of course not.  

Reiko’s being invited to spend time with them wasn’t the reason they weren’t speaking. 

Just apologize, Akane. You can do it.

Before she could really make a decision one way or the other, Reiko opened her door and stepped into the hall. She was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, both of which must have belonged to Kasumi at one point because they were much too large for her. The fabric hung off her petite frame and made her look like she’d just come back from a sleepover.

Cute.

“Akane?” Reiko asked, crossing her arms and huddling against her door frame. Like she needed protection.

Akane winced. She didn’t want that to be what their relationship was. They were supposed to be friends. Friends that Akane, maybe, possibly wanted to hold hands with.

“H-hi, Reiko,” Akane mumbled. She could feel the tingling in her cheeks as she flushed scarlet with nerves and embarrassment. “Can, uh, can we… Can we talk for a sec?”

Reiko made a face. Akane wasn’t sure if it was a grimace or a smile or something else. “...Okay.” And then she stepped back from the door and retreated into her room. Akane followed and stood awkwardly while Reiko perched herself on the edge of her bed.

She rocked back and forth on her feet and tried, desperately, to organize her thoughts enough to make a coherent apology before her nerves got the better of her. The easiest choice was to just turn on her heel and sprint out of the room as fast as her feet could carry her. But that wasn’t an option.

Reiko deserved an apology.

And a kiss— no! Stop thinking about her like that.

“What did… you wanna talk about?” Reiko asked, scooting back on the bed and pulling her knees to her chest.

“Oh, uh…” Akane swallowed, took a deep breath, willed her heart to stop trying to break out of her chest. “I just… we’re friends, yeah?”

“Are we?” Reiko asked quietly. Her voice sounded defeated, even if she thought there might have been the smallest undercurrent of hope. Of want.

“Y-yeah,” Akane said. “And… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I was— it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Reiko stared at her, expression guarded. She said nothing for a painfully long time. “You think I’m annoying.”

“I— what?” Akane asked. “Why would I think that?”

“It’s what you said,” Reiko whispered, and finally the redhead couldn’t maintain eye contact anymore. She looked away. “You said I was in the way and I was annoying.”

And she had, hadn’t she? Akane vaguely remembered her screamed insults, though they were obscured in the haze of all the emotions she’d been at war with at the time. Her stomach knotted in disgust— with herself.

Before she could address that, Reiko continued, “I just… There was a boy behind you with a bat. You didn’t see him. I know you don’t need my help. I’m sorry. I won’t help anymore.”

“W-wait,” Akane sputtered. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who made a total ass of myself.”

“But—” Reiko started to say.

“No! Reiko, you… I’m so sorry, okay? You’re my friend. I should have thanked you and instead I lost my temper. Please, you don’t have anything to apologize for.” Akane took a step toward the bed, hand half extended to Reiko.

“So… you don’t think I’m annoying?” Reiko asked, her voice cracked.

“Not even a little bit,” Akane said. I think you’re perfect.

Reiko stared at her, eyes fixed on her as if she were looking for some hidden sign of deception. When she seemed satisfied, she nodded. “Do you still want me to stay out of your fights in the morning? I don’t wanna mess up again.”

“If you think I need a hand, you should punch those jerks right in the face,” Akane said.

Reiko laughed, and to Akane it was the most magical sound in the world.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25

No matter how many times he raked his fingers through his hair on Friday morning, he couldn’t get it to look the way he wanted. Which, he supposed, was something that would have been easier to deal with if he owned a comb or a hairbrush. With a frustrated snarl he grabbed two fistfulls of his hair and yanked. Pain gave clarity, or so his father had always said. And certainly focusing on the physical sensation of pulled hair kept his frustration and annoyance from reaching a fever pitch and giving way to panic.

Why wasn’t his hair doing what he wanted? 

How was it that today, today of all days, that his hair had finally decided to disagree with him? It had been fine the last two times he’d worn it down.

Ranma took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair again, taking a moment to massage the stinging his hair pulling had caused his scalp. The girl in the mirror was frowning, eyes fixed on his hair. The more mornings he spent with her, the more he hated seeing her look sad. He didn’t know how to make it better, how to make her smile, how to fix it.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I’ll get it, okay?”

She raised her hands as if to mime a hairbrush, and for a moment he considered going to ask Kasumi to borrow hers.

The thought of it made him feel queasy. Because what if she was upset? What if she said no?

It wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t want her to think he was stupid, or useless, or needy. She, for whatever reason, seemed to care about him, and he didn’t want to do anything that would make her take that back. Like annoying her by asking her for shit, or making her think he was useless because he couldn’t make his hair do what he fucking wanted.

He shook his head at the girl in the mirror.

There had to be something else he could do. He glanced over at the little clock on the nightstand and swore. There wasn’t time to go and wash his hair again. Hell, as it was, there was barely enough time for him to throw on his uniform, inhale breakfast, and go to school. 

What was he gonna do? 

His hair was all unruly and not laying right and no matter what he did, it would cooperate with him. 

A knock at the door interrupted his frazzled train of thought, and Kasumi’s voice echoed through the door. “Reiko, breakfast is ready.”

The girl in the mirror’s eyes flicked to the door, almost as if she was telling him to just ask her for help.  

He hesitated. He wanted… he didn’t know what to say. And her face twisted with something when she realized he wasn’t going to.

“Be right down!” He called back. With a defeated sigh, he pulled his hair up and tied it into the braid he’d so often wore it in. The familiar tension at the back of his head when he finished securing it with a hair tie made him feel uneasy for some reason he couldn’t explain.

The worst part about it was the way the girl in the mirror’s eyes seemed to dim just a little bit when she examined his hair in the mirror. Seeing her like that made him feel guilty, and his fingers hesitated on the hair tie.

He could always skip breakfast and try again. And he was used to being hungry. Ranma had gone days without food in the past.

“Fuck it,” he said.

He pulled his hair loose again and squawked indignantly at the frizzy mess that escaped the braid as he shook it loose. Strands of hair went every which way, and his hair poofed around his head like a giant fireball. Ranma stomped his foot in frustration and hurriedly tried to tame the mess. It was like every single movement made his hair messier and less how he wished it would be.

Ranma wanted his hair to look pretty today. He had plans with Emi and he wanted to look nice. For her. For him. He wanted to feel good about himself in a way that he never did. It surprised him how much he cared about his appearance, how nervous he felt about getting it wrong. And if he couldn’t even get his hair right, what hope was there?

And then, surprisingly, and quite unbidden, his father’s scathing voice filled his ears, and it was all he could do to stand upright.

Why do you care what your hair looks like you pansy? His father had cut his hair with a knife at their campfire that night. Forced the blade through his hair until it was ‘acceptably’ short. Ranma hated when his hair was too short. He remembered being pinned down, the large, calloused hand on the back of his neck, and the misery that had followed. Ranma’s hair had been uneven for months.

He braced himself against the wardrobe and tried to stave off the ringing in his ears and the spinning of the room. If his father saw him now, saw him standing in a bra and panties and fretting over his hair, he’d be doing ‘extra training’ for weeks. The girl in the mirror reached toward him. “He’s not here.” He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will away the ringing in his ears. 

He felt sick, adrift at sea in a storm, helpless to stop it.

Still crying over your hair? If you want something to cry about, I’ll give you something to cry about. Training was always harder on Ranma when his father deemed something unbefitting of his manliness. He remembered the lessons, or at least the physical reminders of them. And, eventually, he’d actually accepted that he could become some kind of paragon of masculinity so that his father would be proud of him.

And nothing had ever, ever been enough. He could master every form of martial arts ever created, and he’d be lucky if all he got was a nod of acknowledgement.

Why did his chest hurt so bad when he thought about it?

He clenched his fists, felt his nails digging into the wood of the wardrobe, but kept his eyes closed. “Just breathe.” Genma Saotome wasn’t here, couldn’t shout him down, couldn’t drag him off for some lesson or other, couldn’t tell him he was being a pansy. Couldn’t barge into the room with a knife and chop his hair short.

When Kasumi knocked on his door again, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He collapsed into his nest on the floor in a heap and pulled the comforter around his shoulders. 

“Reiko, you’re going to be late for your first class if you don’t hurry.” 

“I’m almost ready,” he said, wincing at the way his voice trembled.

“... Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he lied, and pulled the comforter tighter around himself.

For a moment, he actually thought she believed him. She shouldn’t have to put up with him like this. It was so weak, and so stupid, and unbelievably pathetic. Why couldn’t he just be fucking normal or okay or put together? 

The door clicked open and Ranma pulled the comforter over his head. Maybe she wouldn’t look under the human shaped lump on the floor.

“Reiko?” Gentle hands lifted the blanket from his head and he pulled his knees and buried his face in his knees so he couldn’t see her. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Ranma said.

“Hiding in your blankets on the floor five minutes before school doesn’t look like nothing to me,” she said, settling on the floor beside him. He huddled deeper into the comforter and shuffled a bit so she had room beside him on the floor.

“I’m just…” Ranma sighed. He raised his head, wiggled an arm free of the blanket, and gestured at the frazzled mess atop his head. “It’s stupid, but I’m upset about my hair. And I feel like such an idiot for letting it get to me.”

Kasumi leaned her shoulder against him. “I don’t think that’s stupid at all.”

“I don’t have a hairbrush,” Ranma mumbled, sagging against her. “Pop made me cut my hair short a lot when I was a kid. It’s never been this long before.”

“Do you like it long?” Kasumi asked him, shifting just enough to get an arm around him and pull him more snugly to her side. 

Ranma flushed scarlet, but nodded. “...Yeah.”

“Nobody here is going to make you cut it. If you want to let it grow out and wear it loose like you have been, I think that’s exactly what you should do.” She trailed her fingers through his frizzy mess of hair, gently coaxing it back out of his face and behind his ears. Her fingers were gentle, just like always, and he felt like such an asshole for needing her in the first place.

If there was anything his father would have hated more than Kasumi’s gentle encouragement of his desire to have long, pretty hair, he couldn’t think of it. He wrinkled his nose. “It’s girly.”

Kasumi nodded, watching him carefully. “Yes, it is. And Reiko, if you want to express yourself in that way, you should.” She brushed a thumb over his cheek and then kissed the top of his head. He went rigid and she slowed her gentle touches. And then he sniffled and threw his arms around her middle. The comforter pooled around them in a heap.

He thought that maybe the girl in the mirror wouldn’t look so sad if he chose that— wearing his hair long. But… There was every, constant little reminder his subconscious seemed determined to give him about what his father would expect. 

“I tried to grow my hair out a couple of times when I was traveling with my pop. He, uh, said it… made me a pansy. And every other shitty thing he could think of.” He sniffed and wiped the corners of his eyes before huddling back into the comforter. He leaned forward to envelop Kasumi in it, too. It was awkward to get it around both of them, but Kasumi reached out and helped secure it around them. 

“Your father is an idiot,” Kasumi said flatly. “The fact that he couldn’t see what an amazing young woman you are makes me so angry. You’re so good , Reiko. And so deserving of anything that makes you happy. If having long, pretty hair makes you happy, then you do it, okay?”

“I… I’ll try,” Ranma said. He wasn’t so sure about him being good, or deserving of being happy. He was a liar, after all. He’d told so many lies since coming to Nerima. Most of them had been to Kasumi, and Mr. Tendo, and Akane, and Nabiki. The people who he’d come to care about most in the entire world. And no matter how much he wanted to let the past go, or to come clean, he couldn’t help but feel that his father was right. About him. About strength. About everything.

Kasumi seemed satisfied with that. “Now, how about we go to the bathroom and sort out your hair before your doctor’s appointment?”

“What about school?” Ranma asked.

“You were already going to miss a little bit today,” Kasumi said with a shrug. “But you’ll be all done before lunchtime, and I’ll have you back in time to see your friend.”

He nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

She helped Ranma to his feet, and then tossed the comforter onto the bed.

“You should probably get dressed first,” Kasumi said with a laugh.

“O-oh shit! Sorry!” Ranma said, flushing scarlet and scrambling to grab his school uniform. 

“Language, Reiko,” Kasumi admonished, though it was clear she really didn’t mean it. She gently straightened the collar of his blouse and smoothed out his skirts. And then she was guiding him to the bathroom, stopping for just a moment to collect her hairbrush and a few other hair accessories from her room.

With more dexterity and skill than Ranma could have ever imagined, Kasumi began taming his hair. She started by brushing it out, checking for tangles, and when that was done, she wet it down and started pulling it into sections.

“Do you want it loose like yesterday? Or do you want to try something different?” Kasumi asked as she brushed through his damp hair. 

He stared at her in the mirror as she worked, watching the girl in the mirror curiously as she transformed before his eyes. “Different? Different how?”

Kasumi’s fingers trailed through his hair experimentally. “Do you trust me?” She asked with a grin.

“Yeah,” Ranma said at once. “Of course I do.” And, to his surprise, he meant it. Really, really meant it. 

She nodded and winked at him. In a matter of minutes, she had the bottom half of his hair brushed out and flowing elegantly about his neck and shoulders, and the top half twisted up and braided at the back of his head. She secured it with a little blue hair clip that was shaped like a butterfly.

“What do you think?” 

He examined the girl in the mirror. She was beaming at him, and grinning from ear to ear. His eyes flicked to Kasumi, who was smiling just as wide.

Nabiki blinked at the little stuffed bear that Kuno dropped on her desk not thirty seconds after she sat down. It was cute as hell, and was holding a little plushy heart between its fuzzy paws. Between the plush heart and the bear’s chest, a folded piece of paper was secured with a pin. She glanced between the bear and her classmate, decided she was hallucinating, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, the stuffed bear was still there. Despite her lack of sleep the previous night, she was not making up the stuffed animal before her. Her disbelief quickly shifted to anger and she forced herself to count backwards from five before she lost her temper.

Committing murder this early in the morning shouldn’t sound nearly as appealing as it did, and if anyone deserved it, Kuno certainly did.

Was he seriously fucking asking her out right now? After how much bullshit he’d put Akane through? The absolute nerve. The arrogance. The unbelievable lack of emotional depth made her want to ring his pretty neck.

“Yeah, no,” Nabiki said, tossing the bear back to Kuno. “I’m not interested.”

He caught it with a flourish and rolled his eyes at Nabiki. He was still a little banged up from his fight with Reiko, but his eye wasn’t swollen anymore, and most of the damage had faded to bruises that were more yellow than black and blue. “It is not for you, Nabiki Tendo. It is a gift for Miss Saotome, the fiery goddess who defeated me in combat.”

Her eyes flicked to the bear again.

Of course it is. I’m not even good enough to get hit on. She clenched a fist under her desk and she bit back a furious snarl at the adorable little stuffed animal. It wasn’t like she cared anyway. Not about this, not about Kuno, not about anything that was going on in the lives of her classmates. Or so she told herself.

Kuno shoved the bear back into her face. She glared at him and slapped his hands away from her. “So give it to her yourself, moron.”

“You think I did not attempt to do so? She is not in class this morning.” That was news to her, but Reiko’s schedule was not her responsibility. As far as she knew, Reiko was supposed to have her cute ass in her seat. Same as her.

She realized she’d been passively keeping an eye on the brat, making sure she listened for any tidbits of news about her new roommate.

Why do I even want to know?

And then she sighed. Because she knew she’d go and find out where Reiko was, just to make sure she was okay.

“But,” Kuno continued. “I happen to know that she is a guest of your dojo, and as such, you can function as an intermediary.” The bear made its way back into her personal bubble, cute little nose brushing her cheek.

Nabiki pushed the bear back out of her face. She was about half a second from screaming at him and tearing the bear’s head off. She took a breath. Nothing’s wrong. Just focus.  “Do I look like a messenger pigeon to you?”

Kuno scoffed and crossed his arms. The poor bear was crushed between his arm and his side as he crouched beside her desk. “You have been most highly recommended for such tasks in the past. Many of our classmates have solicited your services in pursuit of their romantic endeavors.”

She really, really didn’t want to deal with Kuno’s bullshit right now. But she did have a reputation to uphold. And besides, he was the school ‘rich kid.’ She should take advantage. She was supposed to take advantage. Kuno would pay whatever exorbitant fee she set, she would deliver the bear, and Reiko would, more likely than not, decline his offer of courtship.

But she didn’t fucking want to. What was the point?

Doing so wouldn’t make her any less pissed off or any more happy. It would just… be. The exact same as it always was.

For a moment she hesitated, glowering at the most entitled, annoying boy in school. And then she rolled her eyes and relented. Colleges were expensive. Her shopping habits were expensive. Going out for snacks whenever she wanted was expensive. And her family was not at all wealthy. They weren’t destitute. But they weren’t wealthy.

She was going to say yes…

It took every ounce of self-control she had not to groan. This was some bullshit love triangle that she did not want to get mixed up in. Akane and Reiko had enough of their own shit to figure out. They did not need Kuno getting involved. Not that the idiot stood a chance, not against the combined might of the world's least-functional pair of disaster lesbians.

Her desire not to tarnish her reputation won out, eventually. That, and she needed the money. And she was more than confident that her little sister and new housemate could deal with the colossal buffon if he took things too far.

“Fine. Whatever. Ten thousand and I’ll deliver your stupid fucking bear,” Nabiki snapped at him.

“Ten thousand?!” Kuno said incredulously. “That’s unreasonable.”

“Ten thousand. There’s an extra fee on account of I despise you,” Nabiki said, crossing her arms and giving Kuno a very flat look. “So pay up or back off, because I am not doing this for any less than that.”

Her glare didn’t falter even a little bit as they stared one another down. Kuno broke eye contact first. He sighed and Nabiki watched with a self-satisfied smirk as he dug out his wallet, counting the bills and then slapping them down on her desk. “Here, you she-devil.”

“Aww, babe,” Nabiki said with too much false sweetness. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever called me.”

“You are reprehensible,” Kuno said.

“That’s rich, coming from you. I’m not the one making overtures to the new girl behind my baby sister’s back,” Nabiki said, sliding the money from the desk and folding it. “I hope she kills you.”

“Reiko or Akane?” Kuno asked.

“Yes,” Nabiki said. Because truthfully it didn’t matter to her. Just as long as one of them kicked the shit out of him again. It had been so fun to watch the first time.

He scoffed. 

She folded her arms and glared at him some more. “You have any other dumbass requests?”

“I do not,” he said.

“Great,” Nabiki said. “Piss off. You’re crowding my desk.”

He dropped the bear rather unceremoniously onto her desk before returning to his seat. It was a shame, she thought as she watched him go, Kuno would have made decent eye-candy if he wasn’t so entirely chauvinistic and unlikable.

As the bell for class rang, she shoved the stuffed bear beneath her desk and tried to pretend it didn’t exist. The sooner she could get it out of her possession, the better. She did not need anyone to get any ideas about her fucking love life. Her regular one was causing her more than enough trouble, thank you very much.

If a single person even suggested she was dating Kuno, she’d kill them.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Six

Kasumi walked hand in hand with Reiko down the street from the dojo to the clinic. Once they’d sorted out Reiko’s hair, she’d dragged the redhead downstairs and sat her at the breakfast table to eat something before they headed out. And while Reiko had picked at her breakfast, Kasumi had packed up her school bag with her bento and her snacks for after school. 

Now that they were on their way, Reiko seemed resigned to her fate and had become quiet and withdrawn once again. The light that had radiated from her when she’d helped with her hair was gone, and Kasumi could see the tension in the set of her shoulders. She could feel it in the way Reiko held her hand. Kasumi rubbed gentle circles on the back of her hand with a thumb as they walked, hoping that it would be enough to keep the poor thing from clamming up too much.

When the little bell jingled at the front door of the clinic, she thought Reiko might jump out of her skin. Maybe I underestimated how much she didn’t want to come here.

“Dr. Tofu won’t hurt you,” Kasumi said as reassuringly as she could as they stepped inside. “He’s a good guy. It’ll mostly just be questions, you know?”

“Q-questions?” Reiko stammered, a horrified expression crossing her face. “What kind of questions?”

“General health, diet, medical history. Nothing scary,” Kasumi said.

She hoped, more than anything, that his playful attitude and ability to keep his work lighthearted would help to put Reiko at ease. She knew it helped her when she was worried about something, but Reiko was harder to pin down.

“I just… I…” Reiko huffed a breath and shook her head. “I’ll be okay.”

Kasumi glanced towards the front counter, and then leaned down to whisper to Reiko. “If he asks you a question you don’t want to answer, for whatever reason, you can just say you don’t know, okay?”

Reiko looked at her with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing. “I can?”

She nodded, rubbing Reiko’s shoulders and upper arms. “I won’t contradict you. Especially not if you’re uncomfortable sharing something personal. But, he is a professional.”

“Are you sure?” Reiko asked.

“Answer as honestly as you can, especially about your health, and everything’ll be fine.” Reiko didn’t look entirely convinced that everything would work out. "Remember, I’ll be with you the whole time,” Kasumi said. “We’re a team!”

Reiko kept a stiff upper lip and nodded. “Yeah.”

When Dr. Tofu came to the front counter, he made a spectacular display out of fumbling his clipboard and spilling his coffee. “K-Kasumi! It’s good to see you!” And then his focus was split between cleaning up his mess and greeting the both of them amiably.

Reiko did not look impressed. If anything, she looked terrified of the coffee dripping off the counter. Which made sense, she supposed. Coffee was hot. She could see the steam rising off of the mug from across the lobby. “It’s good to see you, too, Dr. Tofu. How are you this morning?”

Dr. Tofu set his coffee mug on the front desk and hurried back around the corner. He returned half a second later with a hand towel and mopped up his spilled drink. “Oh, I’m great! Happy to be here, as always!” He tossed the towel onto the counter. “Are you ready for your checkup, Reiko?”

Reiko didn’t move, nor did she let go of Kasumi’s hand. “Is he always that clumsy?” She asked under her breath.

“I think so,” Kasumi said with a giggle. Reiko nodded slowly as she assessed the doctor. 

“I… guess?” Reiko said to Dr. Tofu. 

“Well then, come on back. Kasumi, make yourself comfortable.” Dr. Tofu gestured for Reiko to follow him as he picked up his clipboard and coffee and, almost immediately, nearly dropped both of them.

Reiko’s hand shot out to grab Kasumi’s forearm and she stayed rooted to the spot, head snapping up to look at her. Kasumi saw the look on her face, a desperate need not to be alone as if to remind her ‘you promised.’

She nodded at Reiko and took the lead. “Actually, doctor. Reiko’s a bit nervous and I promised her I’d be in the room the whole time.”

He stumbled mid stride and nearly spilled his coffee again. Reiko winced, taking a step back and subtly putting Kasumi between herself and the coffee mug.

“Well that’s no problem! Come on back, both of you,” he said enthusiastically.

Kasumi led Reiko forward with a gentle tug. Now all that was left to do was to make sure the doctor didn’t accidentally traumatise her little sister by spilling hot coffee on her. “Actually, Dr. Tofu, would you mind leaving your coffee out here? I’m afraid I’ve got a bit of a stomach ache this morning and the smell is getting to me.”

Dr. Tofu looked down at his half-full mug, and then glanced over to them. “Yeah, sure.” He downed the rest of the drink and set the mug on the little counter. “Do you want me to get you something for the nausea?”

She waved him away. Kasumi had no need of medicine for a stomach ache that didn’t exist, but she did need him not to press the hot water issue. Deciding to make him uncomfortable enough to change the subject was the first thought that crossed her mind. “Oh, there’s really no need. It’s just that time of the month is all.” Her cheeks flamed up in embarrassment as she spoke. Her menstrual cycle was not high on the list of things she wanted to discuss with the handsome doctor. Well, it wasn’t on the list at all, but Reiko was worth it.

“Oh, of course! Well, let’s get to it!” Dr. Tofu exclaimed as his face turned scarlet. He hurried around the corner as fast as he could, and Kasumi giggled as she followed him. Reiko was half a step behind her.

“Thank you,” Reiko mumbled.

“Any time,” Kasumi said just as quietly.

The small exam room was a little cramped with the three of them huddled inside, and Kasumi took a seat on a little chair nestled in the corner. She watched as Reiko was weighed on the scale standing in one corner of the room, and then as Dr. Tofu measured her height. Finally, he instructed her to hop up onto the raised bench.

His demeanor shifted from needlessly over the top as he got started. Kasumi could see it in the set of his shoulders and the graceful way he walked around the room. For all that Kasumi thought it was incredibly attractive, Reiko seemed more on edge than ever. She tried to puzzle out what about him specifically seemed to bother her.

“We’re just going to do a blood draw, get your medical history, and do a basic checkup,” he said.

“Y-yeah, sure,” Reiko said. “What do I gotta do?”

“Nothing scary, I promise. For now, just answer a few questions for me while I get to work.” Dr. Tofu said. He flipped through the papers on his clipboard. 

Kasumi settled back and gave Reiko a reassuring smile and a thumbs up when she looked over for support. 

He started with collecting basic information about Reiko, and asked her a few questions about her personal and family medical history, which were mostly met with mumbled deflections or ‘I don’t knows.’ While he asked questions, he took Reiko’s blood pressure, listened to her heart and lungs through a stethoscope, and checked her pupils with a little flashlight. Every time he touched her, as gentle as he was, Reiko went rigid and her stammered answers became more jumbled.

Kasumi hated seeing her so timid and afraid. In those rare moments she’d seen the real, unburdened Reiko shine through, it had been amazing. But the girl with her right now was shaking like a leaf and doing her best to hide it.

Reiko was honestly doing a brilliant job of acting like nothing was wrong. She wasn’t sure if Dr. Tofu had clocked her nervousness, but it was all Kasumi could see. And she hated it. Hated that Reiko felt that way so goddamn always.

When he was done collecting her basic info, he paused to jot a few things on his clipboard and then flipped the page over. “Everything looks to be normal,” he said. “You’re a little short and underweight for your age, but at sixteen there’s not a lot to worry about so long as you’re eating well and getting enough exercise.”

“I exercise every day,” Reiko said.

“And your diet?” Dr. Tofu asked.

“Good. Kasumi’s a great cook,” Reiko said emphatically. “I eat all sorts of good stuff.”

He nodded again and made a note on his clipboard. As he wrote he watched Reiko closely. “Your posture indicates discomfort somewhere on the left side of your torso. Have you had an injury there recently?”

Reiko shrugged noncommittally. “I guess?”

“Can you be a little more specific?” Dr. Tofu asked her.

“Got hit in the side a while back,” Reiko said.

“Sometime in the last few weeks?” Dr. Tofu asked. She nodded. "Do you mind if I feel the left side of your ribcage?”

Reiko’s eyes went wide and she snapped her head to Kasumi. She didn’t know what to say to Reiko to help her relax, but if her ribs were broken, or hurt, they needed to know. And if Reiko was tough enough that Kasumi hadn’t ever noticed it…

“D-do you have to?” Reiko asked.

“It’ll be okay,” Kasumi said. 

“I just want to feel and see if they're broken, and if so, to make sure they’re not displaced,” Dr. Tofu said. “I won’t push hard enough for it to hurt.”

“I… okay.” Reiko managed, setting her jaw and shoulders.

Dr. Tofu moved slowly, showing Reiko his hand clearly before brushing his fingers against her side. He pressed in a few places and Reiko grimaced. “Still tender?”

“Yeah,” Reiko said. 

“Well I have good news,” Dr. Tofu said. “You should heal up just fine. No breaks that I can feel.” He stepped back and jotted another note on his clipboard. “Have you ever broken any bones?”

There was a long, almost deafening silence. Reiko’s eyes went distant and her face flashed through about a hundred expressions. Kasumi realized that she was debating on whether or not to tell the truth. She glanced at Kasumi, and some semblance of calm settled onto her face.

“Yeah,” Reiko said quietly, hanging her head. Kasumi clenched her fists and let go of the breath she hadn’t even been aware she’d been holding. Good. She was going to be honest, or as honest as she could. Kasumi was so proud of her for that.

“Which one?” Dr. Tofu asked.

“Uh…” Reiko hesitated and shifted on the raised bench. She bit her lip and then sighed. When she raised her head, she focused on the clock by the door rather than looking at either of them. “Most of them?” 

Kasumi gasped, the sound torn from her lips by devastating resignation and disbelief. She had to force herself not to rocket out of her seat and wrap Reiko up in a hug and never let her go. Most of them? What did that even mean? For every layer of Reiko’s past they peeled back, there was always something worse beneath. How was she as kind and gentle as she was, given everything she’d been through?

Had their positions been reversed, Kasumi feared she’d be fucking feral.

“Can you… elaborate?” Dr. Tofu said awkwardly. Kasumi could see the shock written across his face, even as he did his best to keep that kind smile fixed in place. “Do you mean you’ve had several breaks?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve broken pretty much every bone at least once,” Reiko said, looking anywhere but at them. She kicked her feet up onto the bench and pulled her knees to her chest as a shield. Something she did often, especially when she was uncomfortable or nervous. “I… It’s not like… new? There’s… my pop and I traveled a lot and… it’s just how— martial arts training. Just martial arts training.”

No it fucking isn’t, Kasumi seethed. None of it could ever be considered training. What Genma Saotome had done qualified squarely as child abuse. As torture. He’d hospitalized his own child at least once, had broken her bones, forced her to cut her hair and called her names. Hadn’t fed her enough, or loved her at all.

“You're a martial artist?” Dr. Tofu asked, choosing the safest of the subjects that had been mentioned. Reiko nodded, but didn’t look up at him. “I studied martial arts myself when I was your age.”

And Kasumi’s mouth popped into an ‘oh’ of understanding. Reiko was nervous around him because she could sense it in the way he moved around. Anyone who was as good at fighting as Reiko could probably tell if a person had training just by looking at them. Of course Reiko had misgivings about an older man that she didn’t know who could potentially hurt her.

How could I have been so stupid?

Kasumi hadn’t even considered that as a reason. It was just one of those things that she’d known for years. It didn’t affect her view of him one way or the other, but for Reiko… it would be more than enough to frazzle her. Because she’d been raised by a sick bastard who hurt her as a way of teaching her to fight.

“I… yeah,” Reiko mumbled, looking at the floor now. “I’ve been learning since I was a little kid.”

“Well you must be pretty good if you’re still sticking with it,” Dr. Tofu said.

Reiko shrugged, eyes still downcast.

Dr. Tofu seemed lost, unsure of what to say to her. He glanced at Kasumi, usual awkwardness and mirth gone from his demeanor. “Learning a martial art doesn’t typically result in broken bones. At least not all over your body. There might be a broken toe or finger, or even a broken arm here and there. But if you really have had as many breaks as you claim, I’d like to schedule you for some x-rays.” 

“O-okay,” Reiko said, though she was still huddled in on herself. “Like now?”

Dr. Tofu shook his head, jotting down a note on the corner of the paper attached to his clipboard. “Unfortunately not. I don’t have an x-ray machine here at the clinic. I’ll get an appointment set for you, and we’ll have the images sent here for review. But I’d like to get that squared away as quickly as possible. You mentioned traveling. Did you go to the hospital for every break to get your bones set properly?”

Reiko looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. “...No.”

“Then I definitely want to check,” he said. “There’s a lot of holes in your medical history, so being thorough now could really help you out.”

Reiko nodded slowly. 

“Let’s get your blood draw done,” he said. In the space of a minute, he had a little vial of her blood taken and sealed away in a little plastic bag. “I think that’s everything we need to do today.”

Reiko hopped off the bench while Dr. Tofu looked over his notes, and Kasumi reached a hand out for her little sister. Reiko took it at once and Kasumi got to her feet, pulling her close. And trying not to cry on Reiko’s behalf.

“You okay?” Kasumi whispered.

“...I guess,” Reiko said, leaning into the embrace.

Dr. Tofu frowned, ran a finger over his clipboard, and then looked up at Reiko. He tapped his pen against his chin. “Given your lack of knowledge regarding your medical history, I’d like to send you to an OBGYN as well. When was your last menstrual cycle?”

“M-my what?” Reiko squeaked, and Kasumi thought she looked horrified.

“Your menstrual cycle,” Dr. Tofu repeated himself. “I know it’s a bit awkward to discuss.”

“I… uh…” Reiko sputtered and huddled back into Kasumi. She put a hand on Reiko’s shoulder to steady her. “I—it—uh—n….” She trailed off, hiding her face in her hands and mumbling to the floor.

“What’s that?” Dr. Tofu asked.

“N-never?” Reiko repeated, voice rising desperately. “I’ve never had…”

Kasumi stared at Reiko. At sixteen, surely she should have started by now. Buf of course, of course her dirtbag father had somehow fucked that beyond reason also.

“That’s— I mean—okay, definitely a Gynecologist.” Dr. Tofu said, flabbergasted. 

“Is she okay?” Kasumi asked, unable to help herself. Reiko was totally shut down at this point, body tense and head down. Kasumi had her arms around Reiko, but she was more catatonic than anything else.

“I’m not an expert on that. I specialize in chiropractics, and I run a family practice clinic.” Dr. Tofu said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But it could be too much exercise, or too much stress, or her diet— if she hasn’t had the right vitamins and minerals. It could be a hormone imbalance, any number of things really. She needs to see someone who knows more than I do. How long has she been with you now?”

“Close to a month?” Kasumi said. “I don’t know the exact number of days.”

He hummed. “Well I suppose it may start on its own if her diet and stress levels are improved. But at her age, we can’t rule out something more significant.”

“I, well, thank you, doctor,” Kasumi said. “I’ll get her scheduled as soon as possible. Today.” And then she squeezed Reiko one last time before walking her through the door and back out into the lobby. 

“If you don’t mind,” Dr. Tofu said, following them to the front. “I’d like a word in private before you go.”

Kasumi looked at Reiko, who had a far away look in her eyes and a grimace on her face. There was no way in hell she was leaving Reiko alone right now. “If we can speak where I can see her.” 

“That’s fine,” Dr. Tofu said.

With a nod, Kasumi prodded Reiko, who did not react or protest, to sit in one of the chairs at the far side of the little lobby and then joined Dr. Tofu at the front counter. 

“She should probably see a therapist, too,” he whispered. “She shows pretty much every sign of having been abused.”

Kasumi’s face twisted with fury and she blinked back tears. “I know, ” she hissed under her breath. “She… she ran away from her father. He’s…he—” her breath hitched and she shook her head. “We’re trying, doctor, really we are. She’s doing a lot better. It’s just that some days are harder than others. When we can afford to, we’ll get her with someone she can talk to.”

“And her father,” Dr. Tofu said. “He’s not in her life anymore?”

She shook her head fiercely. “No. He’s not. And if he does show up, I’ll probably go to prison for a very long time.”

Dr. Tofu smiled at her, not in that silly, distracted way he usually did when she came into the clinic alone, this one was softer, more genuine. “No witnesses and you’ll be fine,” he said. “Not that your family would turn you in, of course.”  And then his expression grew serious again. “When we get the x-rays back, and the blood work processed, I’ll write a report alongside my notes from today. You should apply for a Civil Protection Order, just in case.”

“That’s a very good idea,” Kasumi said. “I’ll look into it with Reiko’s case worker.” And she’d probably call the number on that business card Reiko had, too. Though admittedly, it had been the slightly less troubling thing she’d found stuffed in Reiko’s pockets that first day.

Dr. Tofu nodded, that gentle and more serious expression still on his face. “I know it’s tough, but don’t worry yourself too much. She’s safe now, and you're doing good with her,” he said. “It’s obvious she thinks the world of you.”

Kasumi didn’t even bother trying to hide the tears that escaped her eyes then. “Yeah?”

It was the sound of the bell over the door that diverted her attention from their whispered conversation, she glanced up just in time to see a flash of red hair exiting the clinic. “We’ll talk later,” she said at once, wiping her eyes and dashing for the door.

Reiko was not going to run away. Not now. Not after everything. 

But her worries were unfounded, because she found Reiko just outside the clinic, crouched down before some flowers that had recently bloomed. Her eyes were still clouded and sad, but she wasn’t running away, or trying to, and that was enough.

She didn’t say anything, and Kasumi was perfectly content for them to enjoy a quiet moment together while Reiko collected herself. The minutes ticked by slowly, and Reiko’s quiet observation of the flowers did little to stifle Kasumi’s worry.

“I thought about lying. To the doctor, I mean. You said I could, and when he asked about… I didn’t want… anyone to know,” Reiko said eventually, glancing up from the violets. She wasn’t nervous like she had been inside. Her expression now was more resigned, more devastated.

“Know what?” Kasumi asked, crouching beside her sister and examining the purple flower petals.

Reiko sniffled as she stood up. “About me, I guess. About how I was too weak to keep myself from getting hurt. About how I—” She cut herself off and shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now I guess.”

And then she turned on her heel and walked away from the clinic, leaving Kasumi to watch her retreating form.

Kasumi thought she might have laughed at the absurdity of it all if it hadn’t been so horrific to hear. Of course Reiko assumed she was to blame for her abuse. “It was never your fault,” Kasumi said, hurrying to catch up to her youngest sister. Reiko looked as if she disagreed. “You are a sixteen year old girl. You are perfectly strong enough, and even if you weren’t a martial artist at all, it still wouldn’t have been your fault. The person who was supposed to keep you safe, who was supposed to feed you, protect you, love you and make sure you went to school didn’t. But that’s his fault, not yours.”

The redhead sighed. “But I’m broken. I think pop knew, you know. Tried to fix me. I’m supposed to be a boy. I was b— Pop wanted me to be his son, and I messed it all up in China. We were at this training ground and— we didn’t even— I fucked up, and now I’m here, and I’m not even a real girl. You heard the doctor. My body doesn’t even work right!” She choked out the last word and her face twisted in agony. “I thought I could figure it out. I thought I could just do my best and figure out how to be a girl. At least a little. I mean, I have a bra now. And I go to school like I’m supposed to. I got a ninety-six on my last history quiz. I just… I thought I looked pretty when you did my hair. But it’s all a lie, isn’t it? I’m a freak. ”

“Reiko…” Kasumi was blinking back tears. “No, sweetheart. Of course not. You’re perfect just the way you are.” She glanced around the street, looking for a place to stop. She spotted a park about half a block up. There would be benches. She grabbed Reiko’s hand and led her to the bench closest to the street, sat her down, and pulled her into a hug. The girl resisted, body stiff, and didn’t collapse into Kasumi like she had started to over the past few days.

“I can’t even go to the doctor right. You saw how he didn’t know what to do with me,” Reiko said eventually. “How’s that perfect?”

“Nothing that happened was your fault,” Kasumi said. “We’ll go to the right specialists and they’ll know what to do.” She hugged Reiko tighter, despite the girl's lack of reaction. “You’ve overcome so much, Reiko. And I’m so proud of you for doing it. Taking the next step must be so scary, but I know you can do it. You’ve done so much to get to where you are now, and you didn’t let your past break you. If that isn’t what makes you perfect, I don’t know what is.”

“I don’t think I’m the person you think I am. I’m just… me. I’m selfish, and I’m stupid, and I’m so angry all the time,” Reiko whispered. “At pop. At myself. At people who look at me funny when I do something that isn’t what girls are supposed to do. At people who make offensive comments about me being pretty. I don’t know what to do with it. It’s like I go back and forth between uncontrollable rage and this… this pit of inescapable sadness.”

“You have a lot of things to be angry about,” Kasumi said. “That’s reasonable. But what’s more important is that you don’t do anything to hurt people. You still care, and you’re kind to everyone, even though bad things happened to you. As for the other part, well, I think that will take a lot of work. Those feelings come from in here.” She poked Reiko’s chest, right over her heart. “Your father put them there, I expect. And it’ll take time to get them out and deal with them.”

“I don’t feel like it gets better. I mean, it is better, I guess. Better than before I knocked on your front door that first time. But I just feel… wrong all the time.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. It hurts and it sucks and it’s not easy.”

Reiko sniffled and then chuckled, which devolved into a sob as her emotions got the better of her. “You’re kind of good at this whole big sister thing.”

Kasumi smiled. “I’ve had lots of practice. I have three little sisters. And believe it or not, you aren’t the only person who has bad days or feels sad. Happens to all of us.”

Slowly, painfully, Reiko’s tension eased and she went boneless in Kasumi’s arms. Her breath was labored and her heart was hammering in her chest, but she’d done it, she’d finally relaxed.

“I know what we talked about was no fun. Not at the clinic, or here on the bench, but it’s done now. You did it. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Reiko said. “I… sorry. I’m sorry you have to babysit me all the time.”

Kasumi turned Reiko to face her, gentle but firm hands guiding Reiko’s chin up so that the redhead’s eyes met hers. “You have nothing to apologize for, little sister. Nothing.”

Reiko blanched and looked away from her, and Kasumi frowned. That had not been the reaction she’d expected. Maybe a little bit of disagreement, but not a wide-eyed, sick expression. Getting Reiko to accept affection was all but impossible, and yet she would persist. Because her baby sister fucking deserved it.

Despite all the ways Reiko had suffered, and despite pain that she was so clearly trying to understand herself, she had done the bravest, scariest thing there was to do and got away from her father. And even now that she was free from his poison, it was clear that Reiko was so entirely convinced that she was unworthy and undeserving of every little good thing that happened to her.

She lifted the redhead’s chin with a finger and tilted her face up so they were making eye contact again.

“Reiko… you’re my family. There’s no strings attached to that. No expiration date.” She tightened her grip on Reiko when the younger girl tried to pull away. “I mean it. I love you. And I’ll tell you as many times as it takes for you to believe me, and then a million more after that.”

Trembling hands reached up and clenched desperately into the fabric of Kasumi’s dress. The sound of a ragged, shaky breath followed as Reiko tried to collect herself.

“I just want to be worthy of all the work and time you’re putting in to try to fix me, ” Reiko mumbled into her shoulder.

“You already are,” Kasumi said, hating that Reiko believed herself to be broken. Hurting, yes, and in need of nurturing. But not broken. “And you always will be. No matter what.”

“I love you, too,” Reiko said so quietly that Kasumi wasn’t sure she was supposed to hear. But she felt all warm and fuzzy nonetheless.

Chapter Text

Chapter 27

She put on her best happy face as she strolled down the hallway to classroom 1-F. All she had to do was drop off the stupid bear to Reiko, pretend she wasn’t pissy about doing so, and be on her way. If Reiko was even there, of course. There was every chance that Kuno had actually told her the truth and Reiko was missing from her class.

Which… she didn’t really want to deal with an emotional blow out from Reiko, but if she was absent from class with no warning, then there was probably something bothering her.

She poked her head around the corner just as Akane was settling down by the window at a desk with her friends. Yuka and Sayuri, she thought their names were, but they’d never pinged her radar or solicited her services, so she didn’t exactly have a lot of information on either of them. That, and they were Akane’s friends, so that granted them some level of protection from her… less than savory modus operandi. 

Reiko, however, was absent. And that meant, more likely than not, some stupid emotional bullshit that she’d get sucked into. Which she really, really didn’t want to fucking deal with. Just thinking about it kind of pissed her off. Dealing with it would do a lot more than that.

And still, she’d fucking help, and she didn’t know why.

Ducking back into the hall to take a breath to calm that constantly growing sense of fury, Nabiki took several deep breaths and squeezed the stuffed bear’s head as hard as she could. Deep breaths, she told herself. Just take deep breaths and pretend you’re fucking normal like everyone else. Like you can actually be happy.

It took longer than normal for her racing heart to slow and her hands to loosen their death-grip on the fucking bear. She smiled cheerily at a few students who passed by while she collected herself. 

When she thought she’d be able to handle it, she strode into the room and adopted that holier than thou expression she wore around the school, a smirk plastered on her face.

“Hey there Akane,” Nabiki said, waving the bear back and forth in front of her as she crossed the room. 

“What is that?” Akane asked, looking up from her lunch to examine the stuffed bear.

“Oooh is it a present from one of those boys that’s always asking you out, Akane?” Sayuri asked with a giggle. 

“God I hope not,” Akane said with a frown. “They’re all so icky. ”

“Oh yeah?” Nabiki snarked at her. “Are boys icky?”

Akane sputtered, eyes wide, and shook her head, face flushing red. “That’s not— Not all of them!” Yuka burst into laughter, sending little bits of rice all over the table, and Sayuri followed with a hand over her mouth a second later.

“It’s not funny!” Akane whined as her blush deepened. Her friends’ laughter redoubled, and Akane crossed her arms and pouted. Yuka snorted , which sent Sayuri into an even more intense giggle fit.

Nabiki smirked at her little sister triumphantly and set the bear down on the desk, right in the center of the three bento boxes. “It’s a present from Kuno.”

Akane leaned forward to examine the cute little bear, poking it on the nose and rubbing a hand along its fur. “He… bought you a stuffed bear?” 

Nabiki shook her head and wagged a finger at Akane. “Not for me, Akane.”

Akane blanched and leaned away from the bear. “No thanks.”

“Awww, it’s not for you, Akane. It’s for Reiko. ” Nabiki’s voice was sickly sweet, emphasizing to Akane that there were other people who were definitely interested in the little spitfire. While she didn’t really consider Kuno a threat in that regard, Akane might. And if she did, maybe it would push her to actually do something about it. You know, on account of her sister thinking boys were icky and all.

The stuffed animal seemed to do the trick, because Akane’s face darkened considerably. This was good. They could finally have it out in the open that Akane liked Reiko. There wouldn’t be any more of this nonsense denial bullshit for Nabiki to sort through and put up with. 

She glanced at Yuka, who was still cackling, and Sayuri, who was wiping tears from her eyes. Maybe she could get Akane’s friends to play matchmaker. They’d clearly figured it out, or at least suspected. All that left was for Akane to open her eyes and pull her head out of her ass.

“Why do you have it?” Akane asked, glaring at the little bear as if it had personally offended her every day for the past week.

Nabiki glanced at Reiko’s empty desk. “Apparently our dear, sweet Kuno tried to find her this morning, but she’s not here. So he gave me the bear to give to her instead.” 

Akane huffed an annoyed sigh. “Of course he did.”

“Where is she, anyway?” Nabiki asked, jerking a thumb at Reiko’s desk.

“Kasumi said she had a doctor’s appointment,” Akane said. “I was almost late waiting for her this morning. I thought we could walk together, you know? But Kasumi said she should be back around lunchtime.”

Nabiki nodded and waved a hand at the bear. At least she didn’t have to hold onto the stupid thing for another class period. “Great! No more time with me and mister stuffy. People were giving him funny looks, and I don’t need anyone asking questions about why Kuno gave me a stuffed bear holding a plushie heart.”

“You could just leave it on her desk,” Akane said. She picked up her chopsticks again and studiously ignored the stuffed bear as she got back to her lunch. “Or throw it away. It’s from Kuno. ”

She shook her head, frowning. She couldn’t just throw it away, not after she’d fleeced the idiot. “Unfortunately, I accepted payment for delivery, so there’s no throwing it out.”

“You really took payment from him for this?” Akane asked, frowning at her. “But he’s… you know… the worst.”

“You mean… icky?” Nabiki teased. Akane stuck her tongue out at her.

“I’ve made a business out of requests exactly like this one,” Nabiki said, pulling over a chair and joining the girls crowded around the desk. “When the Captain of the Furinkan high school idiot club approaches you in public and makes a fucking scene out of dropping the bear onto your desk, you don’t have a lot of options. I figured I could at least make a killing off of him, because as you said, he is the worst. So I charged him double.”

Akane rolled her eyes and rubbed her temples. “It’s really frustrating being your sister sometimes. You know that I like, specifically hate Kuno, right?”

“Back at you,” Nabiki said. “And yeah, I hate him, too. But a shit load of cash is worth giving Reiko a bear she can just trash later.”

“That’s a shame,” Yuka said. “It’s cute.”

Silence fell over the four of them. They looked at the bear, and then at each other. It was a really nice stuffed bear.

“She’s gonna keep it,” Akane said.

Nabiki nodded. “It’s too cute.”

“His fur is really soft,” Sayuri added.

“She doesn’t have a stuffed bear,” Akane said.

“Yeah…” Nabiki said. “Shit.”

They laughed at the absurdity of it. Because separated from the fact that Kuno was the one making overtures, either of them likely would have kept it, too. It was cute and soft, and very clearly high quality.

When they settled down, Nabiki fiddled with the little plush heart it was holding. “You wanna read the note?” She twisted the bear so that Akane could see the pinned paper more clearly.

Akane pursed her lips and tilted her head as she considered, really considered opening the note and reading whatever it was for herself. For a split second, Nabiki thought her sister would take her up on the offer.

“I do,” Sayuri said. “I bet upperclassman Kuno writes really good love letters.”

“Or, you know, really creepy,” Nabiki said flatly. “You have met him, right?”

“Yeah?” Sayuri said. “He stops by sometimes to give Akane flowers and stuff.”

“So what on earth makes you think that Kuno, of all people, would write decent love letters?” Nabiki asked.

“W-well, it’s just that… he’s always using such flowery language,” Sayuri said. “I figured he’d do pretty good if he got the chance to write it down.”

“Sayuri thinks he’s handsome,” Yuka said. It earned her a swat on the shoulder as Sayuri shrieked in embarrassment.

“He’s an ass,” Nabiki said.

“A big one,” Akane said.

“No, I know!” Sayuri waved her hands in denial. Her face was bright red. “He’s just pretty to look at is all.”

That was fair. He was devastatingly handsome. The problem was that he knew it and had somehow deluded himself into thinking he was a gift to women everywhere. The opposite was much closer to the truth.

“You want me to tell him you think he’s pretty to look at? ” Nabiki asked with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Please don’t,” Sayuri said, face paling and a sick expression crossing her face. “I don’t want him to attack me with a kendo stick or anything.”

Nabiki smirked at her.

“Why don’t we just— oh look! The letter for Reiko, let’s read that!” Sayuri said abruptly.

Nabiki nodded and reached forward to unpin the paper from the bear’s chest. Akane’s hand shot out and caught her by the wrist. “No. It’s for Reiko. We shouldn’t pry.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“Fair enough,” Nabiki said, biting back a wince. Her sister was fucking strong. 

Akane let go of her arm, frowning. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Nabiki said, rubbing her wrist. She glanced around to make sure nobody else could hear them. “I shouldn’t have pushed your buttons.”

Her sister looked flabbergasted. It was the best apology anyone had ever gotten out of Nabiki at school.

From a few desks over, a girl with brown hair and green eyes whooped loudly, nose pressed to the window. And then she was dashing out of the room with a huge grin on her face.

Akane frowned as she left, eyes narrowed, and once the girl was out of sight, she slammed her chopsticks on the desk. One of them snapped in half on impact and the tip of it clattered to the floor.

“What was that about?” Nabiki asked her sister.

“Emi?” Yuka answered. “I don’t know. She’s been a little quieter than normal today I guess. She’s usually like the class cheerleader. Everyone likes her, and she’s super nice.”

Akane turned to look out the window, and Nabiki watched in real time as she collapsed in on herself like a dying star. “Reiko’s here.”

Why the fuck was Akane sad that Reiko was back at school?

“Then I can give her the stupid bear,” Nabiki said. “And isn’t it a good thing she’s here?”

“Yeah…” Akane said under her breath, staring out the window intently.

Sayuri cupped a hand by her mouth and made a dramatic show of whispering to Nabiki, though she didn’t lower her voice too much. “Emi, that girl who just ran out of here, has a crush on Reiko. Or at least I think she does.”

Nabiki winced, expecting some kind of outburst from Akane, but her sister wasn’t paying any of them attention anymore. Her focus was solely on the redhead outside.

“Who doesn’t?” Yuka snickered. “Half the boys in our year are in love with her.”

“Yeah and the other half are in love with Akane,” Sayuri said. “It’s totally not fair. Like, leave some for the rest of us.”

The irony of it all was that neither Reiko nor Akane were even a lick interested in the boys in their grade. None of them had a fucking chance. But a girl like Emi? Someone pretty, vibrant, and not afraid of her own fucking shadow? Reiko could more than likely be swept off her feet by someone like that. It wasn’t Kuno’s bear that Akane had to worry about.

Nabiki tuned out the two girls gossiping about which boys liked who, and focused her attention on Akane, who was staring out the window with a forlorn and resigned expression on her face, one hand pressed to the glass. Come on, baby sister, you gotta figure this one out. Reiko’s all yours if you want her, but you gotta admit it first. That’s the one damn thing I can’t do for you.

Ranma tried his best to sort out the hurricane in his head as Kasumi walked him to school. Every little doubt he had, and every lie he’d ever told had decided that the clinic was the place to rear up and assault him. He’d almost suffocated under the weight of it all. 

Realizing that his stupid, cursed body didn’t function like it was supposed to somehow made the whole thing worse than it had been. Coming to terms with it, best that he had, had already taken so much of his willpower. And he was starting, if only just, to find the things he liked about this life he’d stumbled into. It had taken forever for him to admit that he liked his hair better this way, but he’d done it. He’d told Mr. Tendo that he wanted to learn how to draw. Emi liked photography, and he thought he could too. At least a little. Because he liked being around her. But the most crucial thing was that he wasn’t so scared of the girl in the mirror anymore. She was the version of him that the world saw, and he wanted her to be happy, too. When she smiled, he didn’t feel so damn terrible about himself.

Going to the clinic, being forced to confront all of that in front of Kasumi of all people, had fucked with his head in a huge way. He was already so ashamed of how much he relied on her, and now she was privy to all of the doubts he’d tried to whisper to the flowers before she’d joined him. He was thankful he’d managed not to spill the beans about Jusenkyo, no matter how close it had been. The words had been on his tongue, and it scared him that he was even halfway considering telling her.

Though if he couldn’t tell Kasumi, who could he tell? She was like his own personal guardian angel. He loved her and she loved him and they were sisters. It was because of her that he was still here, still okay. It was because of her that he had pretty hair and was put together enough to attend school after his turbulent morning. Ranma wouldn’t trade her for anything. She was the kindest, realest person he’d ever met. And he thought he almost believed her when she told him that her love wasn’t conditional. That he didn’t have to be the strongest or the manliest or the least damaged for her to give a shit about him.

They arrived at Furinkan about halfway through the lunch break. He hugged Kasumi tight when she let go of his hand at the entrance to the school grounds, and preened when she pressed a kiss into his hair.

His pretty hair that she’d styled for him.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Kasumi asked, smoothing out his collar. “I know it’s been a really tough morning. Missing a day is no big deal.”

Ranma considered it, really he did. But he couldn’t just leave Emi hanging like that. He’d promised to go, and keeping his word felt really important. “Yeah,” he said. “I want to see my friends.”

Kasumi nodded and didn’t press the issue. Instead she just gave him a knowing smile, like she knew that what he needed right now was to just go and do something normal. And she gave him another hug.

“Have fun, Reiko,” she said. “Let me know if your friend likes those snacks I packed for you.”

“I will,” Ranma said, inhaling the smell of her perfume. It was the thing he most closely associated with being safe these days, and it washed over him in gentle waves.

They broke apart and he gave her his best smile, which felt a little too tight, and a little too forced. But it was what he had in him right now. 

“I’ll see you later tonight,” Kasumi said. “Do you want anything special for dinner?”

He pursed his lips and considered. Everything she’d made so far had been fucking delicious, and compared to what he’d been raised on, every night felt like eating at a fancy restaurant. “Nothing specific,” he said. “But maybe something new?”

“I don’t think I’ve made curry for you yet,” Kasumi said. “How’s that sound? I know Nabiki and Akane are quite fond of it.”

His smile relaxed and became a little more natural. “Sounds great.”

“Go have fun,” Kasumi said. “I love you.”

He opened his mouth, but the words were stuck in his throat now that there were so many people around. I love you, too.

“I know,” Kasumi said, giving him a gentle nudge. And then he turned and headed onto the school grounds. 

It felt strangely freeing to be back at school after the absolute shitshow that had been his trip to the clinic. But he’d done it, and he was still alive and he hadn’t done anything insanely stupid.  Besides, Kasumi said she was proud of him. And he didn’t recall ever hearing the words from his own father.

Walking past the throngs of students who clumped together over lunch felt like stepping out of a thunderstorm and into shelter. He was surrounded by people who didn’t know or care that his life before coming to Nerima had been hell on earth.

He could just… be. At least for a few hours.

Emi found him before he made it inside the front door, eyes bright and that ever-present smile on her face. She grabbed his hands and giggled as she spun them both around in a circle. “You’re here!”

Ranma was grateful for her exuberance, even if he didn’t know how many smiles he had left in him. It was a balm to his exhausted soul, one that was more than welcome on a day like today. “Where else would I be?”

“I thought that maybe you skipped because you changed your mind about after school,” Emi said. The spinning had stopped and her hands were on his forearms. She was really, really close to him, and he noticed that she was wearing glasses. The thin, round frames made her look cuter than normal, and Ranma was taken aback by the realization that he thought Emi was cute. Pretty, even. Her big, green eyes captivated him and he felt heat rush up his cheeks.

Was he allowed to think Emi was pretty? He thought Akane was pretty, and it felt weird to think of someone else that way also. But it wasn’t as if Emi seemed to mind his blushing or their closeness, in fact she usually initiated it. Maybe it was just a thing that girls did.

He blinked and shook his head a little to focus on the girl in front of him before his thoughts ran away with his focus.

“You… glasses?” Ranma asked. His breath hitched a little at her proximity.

“Huh?” She tilted her head to the side. “Oh, right! I usually wear contact lenses, but we’re developing film today.”

He blinked. “What’s… what’s that got to do with glasses?”

“Technically nothing, I guess,” Emi said. “It’s just that last time I got to use the darkroom I dropped the development canister and splashed some of the chemicals in my eye. Got under the contact lens. It was a whole thing. You know those eye-flusher things they have in the science labs? I had to stick my face in one for like thirty minutes.”

“Oh,” Ranma said. “That must have been… painful?”

“It stung,” Emi said. “Mostly it was itchy after.” She shrugged and then giggled. “But not today! Today I have protection.” She stepped back and tapped the frames of her glasses.

Ranma swallowed, suddenly feeling very parched. He couldn’t stop staring at her. She was grinning from ear to ear and in such an infectiously good mood that even his own dour disposition was overcome. Nothing about his crappy morning mattered right now. He was here, and he could shelter in her joy.

“You’re really excited,” he said.

“Yeah, I am. Seeing all your hard work finally out in the world is super awesome. Plus I get to spend time with you, and I like doing that.” Emi reached for his hand and pulled him inside. “Did you eat lunch?

He shook his head. “Oh, uh no. I just came from the clinic. I had a doctor’s appointment this morning.” 

Emi sized him up, a glint in her eye. “Come on then.” He barely had time to change his shoes before she was dragging him towards their classroom. She all but slammed the door to room 1-F open as she dragged him to her desk. He was acutely aware of the way her hand was firmly wrapped around his. Was her hand usually so warm? Why hadn’t he noticed that before?

But maybe it was just her glasses making him feel all funny. Or maybe it was because she was always so excited to see him. To spend time with him. Emi met him where he was and didn’t expect him to be anything he wasn’t. He appreciated it so much.

She scooted an extra chair over and joined him at the desk. “How was your doctor’s appointment?” 

He nearly dropped his bag when she asked, and had to try to keep his hands steady while he pulled out his bento. “It was—fine, just fine. Nothing crazy. Just a checkup.” And then he winced because it was a fucking lie. His trip to the doctor had been turbulent. Not that it was anyone’s fault but his. If he was a normal girl, then this wouldn’t be a fucking problem. He could have answered questions that didn’t lead back to broken bones or strange, magical pools of water.

But how the fuck was he supposed to tell Emi any of that?

There was no shot she’d be as understanding as Kasumi, and his sister had basically pried the information from him one word at a time over the past few weeks.

“That time of year, huh?” Emi said.

“Uh, yes?” People went to the doctor for that every year? On purpose?

She giggled at his confused non-answer, and he found himself blushing again, because her nose crinkled just a little bit when she laughed, and she had these barely visible freckles that went from her cheeks and across the crinkled part of her nose that he couldn’t stop staring at.

A stuffed bear interrupted his train of thought before his brain could melt and leak out of his ears. It flopped onto the desk and keeled onto its back, arms extended and presenting a little plush heart to the ceiling. Something was pinned to its chest. Ranma snatched his bento out of the way before any of the bear’s fur could get into his rice. 

“Special delivery for Reiko Saotome,” Nabiki said as she came into his line of sight. Her arms were crossed and she was smirking at him as though the delivery was the funniest thing in the entire world.

“Ooooh! Cute bear!” Emi said. She leaned forward to examine it more closely.

Ranma blinked and glanced down at the bear. Emi was correct, it was very cute. “For me?” He looked back to Nabiki.

“Yep,” Nabiki said. And Ranma waited for her to provide more of an explanation, which she seemed to take a great deal of enjoyment in not doing.

“Who’s it from?” Ranma asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“There’s a note,” Nabiki said. “Just there.” She pointed to the paper sticking out from behind the heart that the bear was holding.

“You really aren’t gonna tell me?” Ranma asked as Emi reached for the pin holding the note and wiggled it free.

“This is a lot more fun,” Nabiki said. “So no.”

Emi handed him the folded paper, and when he took it, she picked up the bear and examined it more closely. “His fur is so soft.”

Ranma unfolded the paper. “What is it? A challenge letter?”

Nabiki rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Someone gives you a stuffed bear holding a little heart and attaches a note and you don’t know what it is?”

“...No?” Ranma said, glancing down at the note again. This caused Emi to break into a fit of giggles, and Ranma ducked his head in embarrassment.

“It’s probably someone who wants to confess their feelings to you,” Emi said.

“R-really?” Ranma said, sounding horrified. “M-me?”

“I’m surprised nobody’s confessed already, to be honest.” Emi said.

“You… are? Why?” Ranma asked incredulously. Why was she surprised that an awkward, sulky person like him didn't have a line of suitors?

“You know,” Emi said with a blush as she gestured vaguely in his direction. “You're pretty, you're nice, you're super athletic…and…” Emi's face was beet red at that point and she trailed off, shaking her head.

Ranma’s blush must have matched hers.

“And boys are noticing,” Nabiki said, her expression almost predatory.

“Yeah,” Emi said. “I'm sure they are.”

“You’re calm about that,” Nabiki said to her. 

Emi shrugged, and Ranma thought she looked really sure of herself when she grinned up at Nabiki, even if she was still flushed. “They can tell her.”

He glanced between them. Nabiki looked like she was trying to dissect Emi, who, in turn, seemed remarkably relaxed and confident. There was an undercurrent of something passing between Nabiki and Emi that Ranma really didn’t understand. Like the conversation they were having with words was pretend and they were talking about something else underneath.

And then Nabiki's challenging expression dropped, and something kinder settled on her face. Her smirk became a genuine smile. “Oh, I like you. We’re gonna get along just fine.”

Emi extended a hand to her. “I'm Emi. Emi Itou.”

“Nice to meet you, Emi,” Nabiki said, giving it a shake. “I'm Nabiki Tendo.”

“Everyone knows who you are,” Emi said. “You're rumored to be some kind of miracle worker.”

“People need something done and I do it. No miracles, though,” Nabiki said.

Ranma glanced between them, and then down at the note. His heart stopped and his mouth dropped open. “It's from… Kuno?”

“Sure is,” Nabiki said.

“What's it say?” Emi asked, leaning forward and trying to read the note Ranma was holding upside down.

“He wants me to meet him on the soccer field before school on Monday,” Ranma said, voice low. “You're sure it's for him to tell me how he feels?”

“Pretty sure,” Nabiki said with a laugh. “Why?”

“Well it… I dunno. If you didn't say anything I'd guess he wanted to fight again.” Ranma set the note down on the table and picked up the bear. Its soft fur felt magical beneath his fingers. “If he does say he likes me, what do I do?”

“Do you like him?” Emi asked, putting an elbow on her desk and resting her chin on her hand.

His face twisted in horror and discomfort. “No. Not like, if he wanted to be my… boyfriend.” He choked on the word. “But he's not so bad.”

“He's not so bad?” Nabiki asked incredulously. “He's literally the most deluded and chauvinistic person in Nerima.”

Ranma looked up at Nabiki and frowned. “He’s really not that bad. I dunno. Like, I get along with him okay.”

“Didn’t you kick the crap out of him?” Nabiki shot back

“Doesn't he like your sister?” Emi interrupted.

“Fuck if I know,” Nabiki said. “He says he does, but, you know… it’s Kuno. ”

“What if I tell him I can’t meet him?” Ranma asked, looking at Emi. He wasn’t romantically interested in Kuno, was barely sure he knew what romantic interest in someone was. He thought Akane was beautiful beyond measure, he thought Emi was pretty and cute. But beyond that? He had no idea. And then he let out a shaky breath and tried not to think about what his father would say if he ever found out some boy wanted to go on a date with him. He could imagine the insults, hear them echoing around in his head. Slurs and derogatory, emasculating statements. Threats about training to make up for it.

You lookin’ for a boyfriend, huh, faggot?

The hurricane in his head reared up, and for a split second, Ranma forgot how to breathe. His vision grew unfocused, and the green of Emi’s eyes seemed far, far away.

No son of mine will be with a man, pansy or not.

“You should go. Even if it’s just to let him down easy,” Emi said, reaching out and grasping one of Ranma’s hands. It curled around his, which was still grabbing the bear’s fluffy paw. In an instant, he was back in front of her, sitting at her desk with his bento open in front of him. The warmth of her hand radiated over his suddenly clammy skin. He blinked. “If I wanted to confess my feelings to someone, I’d be heartbroken if they didn’t even show up.”

She held his gaze with a steady grace as he considered it. And then he nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll… go and— and talk to him.” She squeezed his hand. “But thats it! I don’t want him to get the wrong idea or anything.”

Emi chuckled. “I’m really not worried about it. You can handle yourself, you know. Isn’t that right?” She turned to grin at Nabiki.

“Yeah, she can, ” Nabiki said. “But this is Kuno we’re talking about. He’s going to get the wrong idea regardless.”

“Just be direct, don’t let him do anything you don’t want,” Emi said. 

“A-are you sure?” Ranma asked. The thought of Kuno feeling emboldened enough to try anything made him feel physically sick. Flashes of his father pinning him down during fights raced through his mind. If Kuno got a good grip on him, there was no way she’d be able to overpower him if he was pinned. But… he’d beaten Kuno before. Soundly. The guy hadn’t even landed a hit.

“I am. Do you want someone there?” Emi asked.

Ranma nodded. 

“I think so,” Ranma mumbled.

“Then I’ll meet you outside the front gate on Monday,” she said. “Now eat your lunch. There’s only a few minutes left.”

Ranma reached for his chopsticks, and Emi roped Nabiki into a conversation on a completely different topic. He was grateful for the opportunity to just sit and be quiet and listen with no pressure to follow too closely or contribute.

Akane watched in abject horror as Emi made Nabiki laugh. Wasn’t her sister supposed to dislike Emi on principle? It seemed only right that Nabiki would take her side. That she would look down on Emi just for sitting there and flirting with Reiko, the girl that Akane lik— definitely, absolutely had no romantic feelings for. Even so, sitting there and watching the two of them blush and smile at one another made Akane want to scream.

Other girls (or boys, she supposed) weren’t supposed to look at Reiko like that! She wanted to hate Emi for doing it.

But Emi was fucking impossible to dislike. She was nice, and always buzzing with positivity. There wasn’t a single thing about her that didn’t scream kindness and compassion. It was infuriating. How could someone actually be that decent of a person? And how could she just be over there, casually making her move in front of everyone like that? And how come nobody was noticing?

Reiko was there, timid and awkward as ever, but she looked at ease even as Emi giggled away and Nabiki teased her about the bear. Emi and Reiko were chatting away, embarrassment written on their faces. There was an undercurrent of something between them that made her sick to her stomach and furious in equal measure. She wanted to have that with Reiko, that soft companionship that they’d started with, the carefree nature of their time together. It had shifted, become different. Because she wanted… she wanted…

Look at me like that.

But don’t, because I’m not supposed to feel this way.

And if you do… 

I’m afraid of what I’ll do.

I’m afraid I’ll give myself to you.

Want and self-loathing, fear and desire, hope and resignation raged within her.

She was going to get ripped to pieces by all of the feelings warring in her chest. If not today, then tomorrow or next week or next month. Fists clenched into the material of her dress and she forced herself not to scream, or yell, or storm out of the classroom. Reiko didn’t deserve that again, especially not right after Akane had just apologized.

Apologized for being struck by lightning at the sight of her and not knowing what to fucking do about it. Except, that wasn’t why she’d apologized. It was her outburst after the fact. Where she’d let all of her insecurities tear down the one person who made her feel like she could fly.

The burning sensation of bile rising in her throat made her choke, and she slapped a hand over her mouth and bent forward to hide her face. Her stomach was knotted in agony and her heart was hammering in her chest.

“Woah, woah!” Yuka said, reaching out to steady her as she bent double over the desk. “What is it?”

Akane shook her head. Afraid her lunch would end up on the desk if she opened her mouth. Besides, couldn’t they see what was wrong? Reiko was over there. Not beside her at the desk. Reiko was holding Emi’s hand, not hers. And she shouldn’t want it so desperately as she did. She wasn’t supposed to want it at all. But if not Reiko, then who? She’d never had such intense emotions over anyone before. It terrified her. She didn’t like it.

“Just breathe, okay?” Sayuri said. “Just breathe.” One of them, she didn’t care to look up and see who, was rubbing her back. The feeling of sick abated slowly and she took deep breaths.

When she’d been little, Akane hadn’t thought much of sexual preferences, of romantic preferences. She liked studying fighting with her dad, she liked reading with her mom, she liked spending time with her big sisters. As she’d grown older, she’d come to realize that she wasn’t like everyone else. 

She was too aggressive, too assertive, to fit in with most girls. She was terrible at household chores. Akane couldn’t cook, was too messy, didn’t like to spend time doing laundry and cleaning. Her favorite activities involved roughhousing and competition, skinned knees and split lips. 

Her sisters didn’t mind that she wasn’t the same as them, and her mom had understood her better than her dad. But she’d been so sick.

And by the time she was in middle school, she’d noticed that she was the odd one out. One of the girls in her class got kicked off the softball team because she got caught kissing another girl after practice.

Akane had seen the fallout of it. Watched her peers talk about it for weeks, and when that wasn’t enough, she watched how they bullied the girls in question until one of them left school. 

To fit in she’d learned about makeup, grown out her hair, chosen a boy to have a crush on, and made friends she could sit around and giggle with. At least that was real. Yuka and Sayuri were her friends through and through. But the rest of it had been a desperate attempt to fake it until she made it. To be like everyone else. And it had always been so difficult. Everyone else her age made it look so easy. In trade, Akane got in fights, yelled a lot, got angry at anything that made her feel insecure and… and she never dealt with it. 

Never once dealt with that feeling in her chest. That roiling anger. That twisting of want. It hadn’t mattered, because it hadn’t been tangible. Not until Reiko.

The girl with the red hair. The fighter. The survivor. Her friend. Someone who didn’t fucking care that she was a tomboy, or that she was muscular, or that she got in fights. If anything, Reiko seemed to like those things about her the most.

And she’d fallen into friendship with Reiko more easily than she ever had with anyone. It was natural, like breathing. Like they were pieces of a puzzle. Until she’d gone and freaked out. Because Akane had let Reiko in too deep and now she didn’t know what to do or what she wanted. Didn’t know who she was supposed to be. 

“You wanna go to the nurse?” Yuka asked when she raised her head.

“Not really,” Akane mumbled. It wasn’t like there was a cure. She wanted to yell and scream and punch something. Break a cinder block. Get in a fight. But she didn’t want to go to the school nurse. That’d just be a waste of time.

“You sure? It looks like lunch didn’t agree with you.” Yuka busied herself with packing up Akane’s bento and picking up the broken chopsticks. 

“That’s not what’s wr—” Sayuri started.

Yuka cut her off with a hiss. “Her lunch didn’t agree with her, Sayuri. Let’s get her to the nurse’s office so she can lay down for a few minutes.”

And she realized Yuka was giving her an out. She could just claim her stomach hurt and beg off any questions. Because her friends had been pressing her to tell them what was bothering her for days. Akane hadn’t budged, hadn’t told them anything.

Wasn’t sure she ever would.

Because Akane was broken and she didn’t want them to hate her, or to think less of her. And if not that, well, she certainly didn’t want their fucking pity.

“I don’t need to go to the nurse,” Akane repeated stubbornly. “I’’m fine.” She’d get through on her own. She always did.

“That’s bullshit,” Sayuri hissed. “You gotta talk to someone Akane, even if it isn’t us.”

“Sayuri, stop,” Yuka said.

“Come on, Yuka, she’s gotta do someth—”