"The More Things Change…"

The autumn wind blew dead leaves across the street as the couple shuffled along; winter was fast approaching. The woman's long hair, coiled into a loose bun, showed the passage of the many years which had passed since she began growing it out, starting with their wedding day… their third wedding day, to be precise, since the first two attempts were crashed by uninvited guests. The man's remained, as it had for nearly fifty years, in a foot-long braided ponytail, but like his wife's, it, too, was now grey instead of black. The tip fluttered in the breeze. The woman shivered.

"Cold?"

"A little."

He unbuttoned his overcoat and wrapped it around her. "Global warming, my foot."

His wife sighed. They still argued about far too many petty things, and this was not one she wanted to get into. It was unusual enough for him to offer his coat as it was. She looked up at his face, lined with years, and saw a wistful smile. Following his gaze, she saw the stimulus of this unusual expression, and smiled herself. "Our old high school."

"Yes."

Those years were so chaotic… but fun, she acknowledged. Then she noticed the sign. "Oh, no!"

"What?"

"Says here they're going to tear it down this summer."

"I know. That's why I wanted to come this way today."

"I was wondering about that. Normally, you'd take the direct route to the store." Like you do with everything. Well, almost everything… you never could be direct when it came to matters of the heart. Then again, neither could I. But we somehow made it, didn't we?

The man brushed the fingertips of his free hand across the faded characters of the sign. "It feels like losing a memory, doesn't it?"

"Our memories live on within us, my husband… and running around the dojo, probably beating each other up right now."

"They'd better be." His hand fell. "Time has passed, but some things never change."

"I know, I know… you can never train too much. You've become just a bit too much like your father, you know…" She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. There was little love between her husband and father-in-law, even decades since the latter's passing.
"You'd better take that back, old woman!" His arm and coat retracted, and the warmth of his embrace fled. Their tempers had mellowed with time, but certain buttons just could not be pushed without guaranteed results.

"Old woman?! Did you forget that you're older than me, old man? Are you going senile?"

"Why, you…!"

The pair which moments before had perfectly fit the stereotypical image of "that cute old couple" suddenly commenced a pitched verbal battle. They were soon too preoccupied to notice the young man that dashed by… or so the purse-snatcher had thought.

He thought wrong.

In a flash, the old man was after the thief, nearly at his heels. "Hold it right there, punk! No one messes with my wife!"

The woman gave chase as well; she was not far behind at first, but soon began to lose ground. Damn… I guess I should've spent a little more time training my body than my cooking… She grimaced, and not just from exertion. But then we might have all died from hunger or food poisoning. Even now, her cooking was barely what most would consider decent, but at least her husband, children, and grandchildren no longer complained… for the most part. At least our progeny can fight and cook, she mused, starting to pant from exertion.

As the thief and her husband disappeared around a corner, she had to stop from a sudden ache in her side. "Go… get him!" she gasped.

As her breathing become more slow and deep, she smirked. At least I'm not cold anymore. Then the cocky half-smile vanished as she remembered that their meager budget for the entire month was in her purse.

"You'd better get him, Ranma!"

XXXXX

Unfortunately, Ranma was losing ground. The thief, while merely a common street punk, was a street punk. He knew the territory well, perhaps just a bit better than his aged pursuer, and gained just a bit of ground every time he hopped a fence. He had his youth, and with it the strength, agility, and endurance that had long since fled his victims.

Damn, thought Ranma as his back spasmed yet again. If only Kasumi hadn't stopped by her husband's office while he was working on my back… I always come out feeling worse when he goes ga-ga over her. He had to repress a grin at the memory of the 80-something chiropractor Tofu-sensei gyrating around the room with glee. Still in love after all these years… just like us.

He had to grudgingly admit that unless the chase turned in his favor soon, he would lose the thief. Even as he thought this, the snatcher somehow scrambled up and over a high, smooth wall to the construction site beyond. I can't get over that with my back in this condition, but if I go around, I'll probably lose him… what now?

He glanced around frantically. Puddle… puddle…? No, it hasn't rained lately. An old lady tossing out wash water? Nope. Then he spotted his salvation dead ahead.

As casually as a sprinting old man can, he shed and tossed aside his overcoat and kicked the fire hydrant mid-stride. As his body continued straight on through the resulting spray of frigid water, he felt the familiar sensation of his bones reshaping and his flesh growing more supple… and in a few locations, just growing. Emerging from the spray came a streak of bright red braid, a pair of small hands that barely emerged from sodden sleeves, and strong, smooth legs suddenly far too short for their pants.

"All right, punk!" Ranma screamed as the curse's transformation completed. "You're mine!"

And then he stumbled on the cuffs of his soggy pants, tripped on the tumbling hydrant, twisted his ankle, and fell flat on his face.

"Ouch… damn, where'd he go?" He hopped up onto the fence and scanned the area beyond, but the thief had vanished. "All right, then… guess I need a better view."

With a single thrust of a leg, the martial master's young female form effortlessly exploded skyward, barefooted… and barelegged.

Oops… forgot to tighten the belt…

XXXXX

Ranma bounded from one rooftop to the next, heedless of the breeze on his boxers. Not for the first time, he gave silent thanks for elastic waistbands. He soon spotted his quarry.

The thief had slowed somewhat, believing he had shaken his pursuer. I'll just land a few blocks ahead and cut him off…

Unfortunately, as he fell towards his chosen landing site in front of a convenience store, an aging woman with silvery-blue hair exited the store and stood just where gravity and inertia were directing him.

"Crap!" He gyrated in midair, altering the air resistance on his body just enough to avoid slamming into the woman. But the last-second course adjustment caused him to land barely on one foot – not squarely on two, and his already injured ankle protested the impact as he tucked and rolled.

Gritting his teeth, Ranma stood. "Ungh!" OK, chasing him down on one leg is not an option. I'm only going to get one shot…

As the thief came into view, his pace reduced to a brisk walk, Ranma prepared to unleash his ultimate technique…

XXXXX

"Ooh… ow…" moaned the disheveled but beautiful young woman.

"Hey, uh… what's the matter?" The unsuspecting purse-snatcher bent over, ogling her bare legs.

"It's… my ankle… I can't get up." Ranma supplemented his false breathlessness with a few more not-entirely-faked moans. I hate this technique, but it never fails.

"Here, let me help you." The punk leered as he shouldered the strap of the purse and bent to pick her up. "I can take you someplace you can… uh… rest."

Rest, huh? I know what kind of "rest" he's thinking about. This jerk's got "love hotel" written all over his butt-ugly face. "Oh, could you? Thank you sooo much!" Ranma giggled. I think I'm going to vomit if I have to keep this up!

The thief was actually fairly strong, as Ranma had surmised from his earlier wall scramble. But no sooner had he hoisted the redhead in his arms than he received a swift chop to the back of his neck, spilling them both to the pavement.

"Damn… you didn't have to fall on me, you jerk! Now gimme that!" Ranma tugged the purse strap over the thief's limp arm and staggered onto his good foot. I'd kick him where the sun don't shine if I could kick.

"Ranma, I thought that you! See happy to see you!"

Ranma froze, his face twitching at the all-too-familiar cadence of butchered Japanese. Walk away. Just walk away. You're a stranger. You don't know her…

But he was paralyzed in fright just a bit too long. The woman with whom he had nearly collided seized him from behind in a crushing bear hug. "It be too-too long since we see you at shop, Ranma!"

"Hi… Shampoo," he managed to gasp. "It's… nice… to see you… too. Can you… let me go now?"

Not surprisingly, the Chinese woman – who still insisted Ranma was her rightful husband by the laws of her Amazon tribe – did not comply. But she did loosen her grip, if only to turn him to face her. "You so lucky, Ranma. You still become beautiful young girl."

"Yeah, well, I never did manage to find a cure." Ranma laughed, struggling as she tightened her grip again.

"Shampoo getting old and ugly, and still become cat."

Ungh… she may be getting old, but she's as strong as ever… I can't get out!

"But you still come see Shampoo. So sweet, Ranma!" She crushed his face into her chest.

Neither my marriage nor hers has diminished her interest in me one bit… but she has gotten a tad… bigger… can't breathe! He tapped her arm furiously with his one free hand. Let me out!

A new voice startled Shampoo enough for Ranma to break free. "Ran-chan! If things were that bad with Akane, you should have come to see me!"

Not this again… Ranma staggered back, gasping for air. "Hey, Ucchan. I'll swing by your place later for some grub, but I really have to go!" He took off at a fast hobble. Damn… damn… not now…

"Ranma, come back!" The seasoned okonomiyaki chef Ukyo Kuonji stared in puzzlement a mere moment, then cast a sidelong glance at her long-time rival, Shampoo. Unlike Shampoo, she had never married, but she still shared the other woman's lingering desire to marry Ranma.

As if they'd heard a starting pistol, both women took off in hot pursuit.

XXXXX

Seriously?! I start out doing the chasing, and now I'm the one being chased. Just another typical day. Ranma winced each time his injured leg struck the ground. I've got to lose them, fast!

A pair of voices refracted around the corner.

"Which way Ranma go?"

"I didn't see. You go this way, I'll try that way."

"Shampoo no stupid. I not let you find him first."

"Suit yourself. Let's go left."

Crap, that's this way! Ranma was just passing a long, unbroken stretch of wall. Nowhere to duck into. Guess it's over, then.

He sprang up onto the wall, then dropped down. He crouched in the shadow of the wall until the sound of two pairs of feet running past faded into the distance.

"Phew… whoa." Finally taking note of his surroundings, he gazed across a vast, well-groomed traditional garden, complete with ponds and elegant bridges. Scattered trees laden with fruit caught his eye, and his stomach growled. Too much exercise on too empty a stomach… we were going to splurge on brunch. Ranma limped to a nearby tree and swung himself onto a low branch. He was reaching for a ripe fruit when he heard a voice that chilled his blood.

"Oh ho ho ho… what a dirty little girl, to sully my garden!"

I thought this place looked familiar… Ranma turned his head slightly to see, in the corner of his eye, a stately woman with raven hair in a magnificent kimono. "Hello, Kodachi."

"You know me? And… I know you! You're that filthy girl who tried to steal my darling Ranma! Though we both lost in the end… and how on earth do you still look so young?" Kodachi Kuno, ever the black rose, strode towards her, eyes flashing. "You simply must tell me! I will regain my youth and beauty and still his heart away from that tomboy Akane Tendo!"

At the mention of his wife's maiden name, Ranma's eyes blazed with sudden fury. "Now listen, Kodachi, she…"

"Pig-tailed girl!"

Crap! Not now!

A blue-robed figure raced across the lawn, bouquet-laden arms outstretched. "It is I, Tatewaki Kuno, the Blue Thunder of Furinkan…"

*WHACK*

"You don't go there anymore, and it'll soon be gone, anyway," Ranma corrected him as his brother-in-law collapsed. He rubbed his elbow. Dang, that hurts… he's still as thick-headed as ever…

"Well hello, there, Ranma."

"Ranma? Where?" Kodachi began racing about the garden, peering behind every bush and statue.

Ranma sighed in relief. "Nabiki, thank God. I need somewhere to hide, quick! And some hot water," he added with a whisper.

"Certainly. That will be 5,000 yen," Akane's older sister replied amiably.

"Seriously? You married this dolt for his money, we're related, and you're still going to charge me?"

"Confidentially, Ranma, he wasn't quite as rich as he made himself out to be." Tears filled her eyes. "The Kuno family coffers are nearly empty – it won't be long until we'll be thrown out on the street in rags!"

Ranma snorted. "Yeah, well, maybe you can hock those diamond studs in your ears, or someone in this house could actually get a job."

"Right, like making a pittance training people to beat each other up is a job?"

"At least I'm doing something with my life." He hobbled towards the estate's nearest gate. "Later, Nabiki. No thanks on the water, I'll manage."

As he neared the gate, the estate wall buckled and exploded inward.

"Nihao!"

"Shampoo, it's called a door. Get, it, door?" Ukyo scolded her.

"Door locked. Wall easier to fix."

"Ranma, are you OK?"

Rubbing plaster dust from his eyes, Ranma coughed. "As well as can be expected."

Ukyo bent to help him up, but jumped back as a stream of scalding hot water emitted by a bright yellow kettle doused him.

"That's hot!" Ranma's body returned to that of an older man. "Nabiki?"

"No charge," she sighed. "We were about to have tea, and this was cheaper than offering you a bath. "But," she smiled, "you or one of your… friends… will have to pay to fix the wall."

Ranma and Ukyo instantly pointed to Shampoo. "If she doesn't pay," said Ranma, "which she probably won't, call the Cat Café and tell Mousse to pay it – and tell him that if he doesn't, Shampoo will run off and leave him for me."

"Ranma, you run away with Shampoo?!" The Amazon knelt and clasped his hands.

"Hell no, I – mph!"

That moment, a furious figure stepped through the gap in the wall, Ranma's shed coat and pants slung over one arm.

"Ranma! Get your face out of that hussy's chest!"

Crap. Does she seriously think I want to be here? Well, it is nice and soft… and it's been a long, tiring day…

"Oh, it you, Akane. Ranma say he going to run away with real wife."

"Can it, Shampoo." Akane waggled her cell phone. "Nabiki already called and told me he was running away from the women who only wish they were his wife. You lost that battle a long time ago."

Akane pried her husband from Shampoo's grip and raised him to his feet. "Let's go, Ranma."

"Akane Tendo, my love!"

"Ranma darling!"

Ranma's uppercut sent Kuno flying as Akane's high kick did the same to Kodachi.

"Get her name right already, creep!" he yelled at the human projectile. "It's Akane Saotome!" He turned to his wife. "Let's go home… please."

"Just a second. Nabiki, the Tofus are joining us for dinner tonight. You're welcome to join us – without your husband or his sister," Akane emphasized.

"Maybe… is Kasumi cooking?"

"Sigh… yes," Akane admitted.

"Then I'll be there. I could use some ordinary food."

"We'll set a place for you. Ukyo, you can come too, if you want."

"Hmm… tonight's usually busy at the shop, but I can swing it. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now, then…" Akane's brow furrowed in thought.

"Shampoo come too?" The Amazon looked almost miserable at the prospect of being left out.

"Yes, you can come too... but hands off my husband!"

Shampoo pouted, but replied "Is deal."

XXXXX

Sounds of combat could be heard from blocks away as they neared the family dojo, which was hardly unusual. What was unusual was the giant fundoshi-clad pig waiting at the gate.

Crap… P-chan brought his big pig pet along for a visit. That jerk has the worst timing to match his awful sense of direction.

"Oh, Ranma, look! Ryoga and Akari came to visit!"

"Oh… yay…"

A grey head crowned with a black-speckled yellow bandana waited at the doorstep. "Hey, Ranma, who beat you up?"

Ranma bent close to Ryoga's ear. "Shove it, P-brain," he grumbled. Somehow, Akane had never figured out that Ryoga transformed into her little black pet pig, and Ranma had kept his man-to-man promise to never reveal the secret – a vow which he had alternately regretted and used as leverage ever since.

"You shove it, girly man."

"Ranma…" Akane's concern drew their attention before it came to blows. "We never got the groceries! We don't have nearly enough in the house to cook for the crowd we're expecting!"

"Heh… gotcha covered, Akane," Ryoga smirked. "Did you forget I always bring food back from a journey?" He pointed to several parcels of dry noodles, canned meat, and fresh vegetables. "I was about to carry the last of them in."

Ranma's eyes bulged as his stomach grumbled. The last of them? We may not have to go grocery shopping at all this month! I guess the sumo pig business is really booming…

"Oh, thank you so much, Ryoga!" Akane favored him with a brilliant smile. "You're such a good friend!"

Ryoga's genuine smile collapsed into an obviously fake one. "Friend… yeah… ha ha…" His shoulders slumped in defeat as Akane looked over the foodstuffs.

"Don't let it get you down, buddy." Ranma thumped his back. "What, did you forget about your wife?"

Ryoga's eyes widened. "Akari!" He dashed inside, completely forgetting the parcels.

Ranma stared after him. Sometimes, I think he really does forget…

"Hey, Ranma…"

"Yeah?"

Akane embraced her husband. "Thanks for getting my purse back. I'm sorry, I should have held onto it better."

He hugged her back. "Eh, that's all right… ow!"

"Sorry…" she relaxed her grip.

Just then, a piercing scream emitted from the bath, followed by several loud thunks and crashes.

Akane's brow furrowed. "Was that Nodoka?"

Snatches of the ensuing conversation between their elder granddaughter and Ryoga's eldest grandson carried from the slatted window.

"Baka! Haven't you… knocking? … again and I … I'll kill you!"

"Sorry, sorry! … was the kitchen, honest!" Apparently, all of Ryoga's progeny had inherited his absolute lack of directional sense.

Ranma and Akane couldn't help but chuckle as they recalled their own first meeting – well, their first meeting as boy and girl, at least.

"What do you think – should we try to make Ryoga part of the family by marrying Nodoka off to one of his grandkids?" Akane murmured.

"Yes," responded Ranma drily. "Because arranged marriages work out so well in our family."

"It did for us."

"In the end, yes… but I think it would've been easier for us to get there on our own."

"Without our fathers betrothing us, we might never have met," Akane reminded him. "And then, you might have ended up with Ukyo… or Shampoo."

Ranma shuddered. "On second thought, it's worth at least discussing with her folks. You'd better get starting chopping the vegetables and boiling water so Kasumi can have a head start." He hefted the heaviest parcel and slid open the door for his wife, who had picked up the rest.

"Right. That, at least, I can do right."

"Yep. It only took you twenty years to get boiling water right, and thirty to properly slice a daikon."

"What of it, jerk?"

The door slid shut again.

XXXXX

A/N: Well, it didn't turn out quite like I'd originally intended, but this is my take on what the Ranma ½ characters might be like in 50-ish years. Sorry for anyone who thinks Ranma should end up with another girl, but it's clear by the end of the manga that Akane is the girl for him – if they ever can get a moments peace to sort out their feelings, at least.

So, this story began from a strange musing about whether those afflicted with a Jusenkyo curse would always take the same form regardless of how much time passes. I decided that they would, since the likeness of the being that drowned in the spring would remain the same forever; and in Ranma's case, he would forever turn into a young girl. Shortly after this, I wondered what would happen should Ranma's female form become pregnant… would he have to remain female through the duration? However, I promptly discarded that premise as a story idea. I'm not into rape stories, and that's pretty much the only possible reason female Ranma would be intimate with a man. Besides, Takahashi-sensei never once wrote anything about female Ranma having "that time of the month", which probably would have been hilarious; so, since I presume that since the curse results in the same state, forever, the young girl's biological cycle would never advance – and thus, never ovulate or menstruate. Of course, for some reason, menstruation is rarely discussed in fiction, especially manga – I can only think of one single fantasy series that even addresses it, and then only briefly. (Yes, yes, I know there's tons of fanfictions out there, particularly regarding Inuyasha and Kagome…)

Now, what if Shampoo was pregnant? Would she have kittens? Hmm… maybe next time!