A/N: ultimately the same ending, but different path to get there.

Dunking a hand in a glass of water comes from One Trick Pony, I think.

Ryoga collapsed against a rock, flicking caterpillars off of his pants. He was glad he'd decided to take his backpack even for that short trip out to the curb, because he'd need it now.

A leafy frond brushed against his face, and he was conscious of being very much alone in the jungle, with nothing but his rucksack and a "Veggie Mart" shopping bag.

Well, there wasn't much to do except sort the mail.

There were some advertisements. These were discarded. Ryoga had never been much interested in cars; they couldn't go even a small fraction of the places he went. Shopping for groceries, despite his shopping bag, was likewise out. There were some brochures for colleges. Ryoga had gotten on some list; he had been telling the truth to Ranma about his IB in Physics. He read through the notice about this new "online learning" program but dismissed it. Maybe when computers got smaller he'd think about it some more. And then there were his letters. Ranma hadn't read a single one.

Ryoga closed his eyes and listened to the wind ripple through the leaves. Each 1-ounce envelope weighed like a lead plate upon his heart of glass. Ryoga wished his emergency crank radio could pick up classic rock stations.

Return to Sender.

Patterns of light danced across the inside of Ryoga's eyelids.

Ryoga was a fool.

Ryoga's mind flashed back to those ice-blue eyes and their last conversation. I know he's not a girl. Why does he keep bringing it up? Does he think I just want a girl, someone sweet like Akari? He felt a sharp twinge of regret. He hadn't seen Akari for months, not since she'd informed him, tight-lipped, that a man who couldn't even find his way around the pig-training compound had no place in her life. He knew she'd been upset, and thought maybe she hadn't meant to break things off quite so finally, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out how to get back to her farm. If she were Ranma, he would only have to think of her.

Images of Ranma flashed through Ryoga's mind, and he smiled in spite of himself. Each disguise was more obvious than the previous one, and once he had seen through one of them, he could look back and see through the rest.

It had caught him by surprise, the intensity of his feelings for Ranma. But then he'd wondered: he had never really wanted Ranma to die, anyway. He'd said it a thousand times, but only because he knew that Ranma was the better of the two of them. Ryoga could never let real threats hurt Ranma, even when he had thought himself in love with Akane.

Ryoga opened his eyes, looking up at the cool shade but seeing Ranma's face. Ranma had called him a good sparring partner, but Ryoga knew that they'd have to find other people to really fight against now. They could still train together, but it would be nearly impossible for Ryoga to employ the same ferocity he'd once used. By the time they'd gone out to Nabiki's lunch, Ryoga had had to concentrate on pretending to be the same old Ryoga. He had agonized over that misplaced punch for weeks, and as "Akira" had caught himself watching "Ranko" carefully for signs of dizziness or headache. He had had to force himself to swing Ranma into trees and bounce him off of concrete walls. It was much easier on Ryoga's nerves to tutor "Ranko" in physics, because as "Akira," Ryoga was no longer expected to dash his love into inanimate objects.

The problem was, Ranma might be Ryoga's love, but apparently Ryoga wasn't Ranma's.

Something fluttered against Ryoga's leg, and he looked down to see a cheap store circular, which had caught up between the letters, sliding to the ground.

Ryoga picked it up and was about to crumple it and toss it in the bag when the name caught his eye, and the address.

It was time for one more try before Ryoga conceded to Ranma's wishes to leave Ranma alone. This piece of paper was like a bulletin from Fate.

Ryoga stood up, picked up his shopping bag, and closed his eyes. If he could manage to get there, then this was meant to be. "Nodoka Saotome," Ryoga thought firmly. "Ranma's mother."

"Kuonji?"

Ukyo looked up from the griddle in surprise. All of her school friends called her Ucchan, and her business associates called her Kuonji-san.

A boy was sitting right up by the griddle, grinning at her. He looked familiar, but Ukyo couldn't quite place him.

"Well? Do you remember me?"

"I'm sorry," Ukyo blushed.

"Come on, Kuonji! The food fights?"

Ukyo looked again, and the beautiful aroma of her gourmet okonomiyaki was at once transformed into the tangy pungent smell of cheap cafeteria condiments. It was no less lovely a scent, because it was accompanied by the few happy memories she had had between Ranma leaving and her seeing him again.

This boy had been on the edges of that old school group, skipping some of their food fights to study in the library. Now that he'd been placed in context, his face was immediately recognizable. "Ishigaki, right?"

"Sure, but you can call me Shinchi."

There was an ever-so-slight note of anxiety in his casual words, and Ukyo smiled. "Call me Ucchan," she replied. She sprinkled some dried cuttlefish on the okonomiyaki she had been making for herself, in that peculiar afternoon time between the lunch and dinner peaks. She would have eaten it plain, but Shinchi had liked cuttlefish, back in the day. "On the house," she said, sliding the okonomiyaki onto a plate and in front of him. Uh-oh, Ukyo, she thought wryly to herself. You're starting all over again.

"Oh- are you sure?" Shinchi's hand hovered uncertainly between accepting the plate and reaching for his wallet.

"Of course. For an old friend." Ukyo smiled. "But just this once," she said teasingly.

Shinchi returned the smile. "Wow," he said.

"Wow what?"

"I didn't believe it when Tsubasa came back and told us you were a girl, but you sure are."

Ukyo felt her face grow hot, and she turned to adjust some of the jars on a shelf.

"I meant that in a good way, of course," Shinchi tacked on hastily.

Ukyo attempted a dazzling, girlish, Akane-like smile, and was thrilled to see an answering blush on Shinchi's face.

Shinchi picked up the okonomiyaki, smitten, and took a bite. "Hey, this is really good."

"Thanks," Ukyo said warmly, having expected no less. "So, what brings you here? Business? School?"

The rush of flame around Shinchi's ears gave Ukyo her answer. "School friend," Shinchi said, bravely, anyway. He smiled. "I wanted to see if she really was a girl."

Ukyo waited for Shinchi to eat some more, noting that he did, in fact, seem to be enjoying the extra cuttlefish. She busied herself cleaning the grill and polishing her spatulas and said offhandedly, "How long will you be here?"

"Only a few days."

Ukyo felt a wave of disappointment.

"But who knows, my plans might change. The correspondence courses for accounting are quite good." He shrugged. "I'd hoped to go to a university, though. That way I can double major in accounting and early childhood development, all in one place." He shook his head. "My dad's pretty upset about that idea. He thinks it's a fluffy field, but I say, I like children. I want to know how they learn. He likes the accounting, though. Supports small business and all that."

Ukyo's eyebrows climbed into her headband. Shinchi wanted to major in accounting and early childhood development? "Everything in Japan is pretty close on high-speed train, and I'm sure your father will come around eventually," she said encouragingly, amending her former disappointment entirely. Glimpses of children playing in the yard – they'd have to buy up the adjacent property so that the children could have a yard – flew swiftly through her mind. "Shinchi," Ukyo said sweetly, pouring out some more rounds of batter, "What are your favorite toppings?"

"Hooonk!"

The blare of a horn made Ryoga's eyes snap open. He stumbled back as the motorcycle passed. Ryoga looked around himself in amazement. He had actually made it back to Nerima! Unfortunately, he had lost his concentration. He stepped nervously up onto the sidewalk, wondering how, or if, he could get back into his meditative state.

He looked down the street in both directions, including up, but it was useless. He was completely, hopelessly lost. Come to think of it, maybe this wasn't really Nerima. It kind of...felt like Nerima, though. It smelled vaguely of okonomiyaki.

Ukyo dropped her spatula. "It's Ryoga! Oh, no, he's lost!"

Too late, Ukyo saw the surprise pass over Shinchi's face. He would think that Ukyo had a boyfriend. He would excuse himself and leave.

Ryoga was fast disappearing, and Ukyo had an okonomiyaki on the grill, but she had to talk to him, had to find out the truth about him and Ranma.

"Want me to catch him?" Shinchi sprang up from the barstool, and at Ukyo's automatic nod, streaked out the door.

Ryoga leapt back before the hand could touch him, but his would-be assailant was no fighter.

"Hey," said the preppy-looking boy. "Ishigaki, Shinchi. Ucchan said you're lost."

Ryoga faltered. "Um, Hibiki, Ryoga. Yes, I, uh..."

"Come on, she's right across the street. I'll take you to her."

Ukyo would know how to find the address. Ryoga held out his hand.

The boy raised an eyebrow and shook Ryoga's offered hand. The other eyebrow came up when Ryoga didn't let go.

"I, uh..." Ryoga cursed his lousy sense of direction one more time, wishing he could blast everything into oblivion and leave one and only one road: the one that led to Ranma's house. "I have a terrible sense of direction," Ryoga said lamely. "I have to, um, hold on."

"Right."

Ryoga turned left. The boy politely turned Ryoga around and started leading Ryoga across the street.

"Hey, Ukyo. Thanks for finding me." Ryoga dug around in his backpack for some pocket money, and not the serious cash that he kept in rolls. "Two of the specials, please."

Ukyo nodded, dropping the bills into the till. She washed her hands and got ready to pour some more batter, wondering how she was going to go through with questioning Ryoga. If things were going well, Ryoga might crash ecstatically through a wall. If things were going poorly, he might bring a Shi-Shi-Hokodan down on the roof of her restaurant.

To Ukyo's great surprise, Shinchi began a conversation before she could. Later, Shinchi would admit that he had wanted to find out who his possible competition was, but for now, it just sounded like a friendly conversation.

"So, Hibiki, how do you and Ucchan know each other?" It was a perfectly bland opening, allowing a response anywhere from cousins to school chums to a proud declaration of one's beautiful wife.

Ryoga slid his eyes over to Ukyo, remembering their hormone-charged machinations to tear Akane and Ranma apart in the Tunnel of Lost Love. Did that count as being friends? "We've, um, worked together before."

"Here at the restaurant?"

"No, um..." Should Ryoga mention the Tunnel of Lost Love? One look at Ukyo's face told him his answer was no. "Camping."

"Oh. Camping."

Shinchi and Ryoga both had the same thought simultaneously, and Ryoga was quick to add, "It was a group of us. Ukyo, myself, Ranma, and Akane."

Akane sounded like a girl's name, and Ranma might be one, too. Shinchi raised his eyebrows just enough to be a question.

"Yeah." Ryoga broke into a large smile. "Ranma."

Ukyo's heart melted along with the pat of butter on the grill. Ryoga was as in love with Ranma as any of them had been. He wasn't doing anything to Ranma. Ranma must have made the decision to deny Ryoga and start dating Akane all on his own. It made sense once you thought about it; of course Ranma's hidebound honor would be making him honor the Tendo-Saotome contract, even though the contract with his mother had been destroyed.

Ukyo looked at Shinchi speculatively. Perhaps she could afford to be magnanimous now. This time she wasn't chasing after a boy; a boy had come all the way to Nerima chasing after her. And, from the looks of it, Ranma and Ryoga were going to need someone's help getting together. "Hey," she said casually. "I'm sorry about that time, you know, when you were out with Ranma."

Ryoga looked at Ukyo almost suspiciously and Ukyo gave him a small smile. "Ranma's paid me back for my father's cart, did you know that?" She shrugged leisurely, hoping he would get the hint. "That settles that. It was with interest, too. I'm thinking of putting in some formica counter tops over there. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds...good," Ryoga said slowly. "Ukyo, do you think you might do me a favor?"

"Sure, sugar. Name it."

"Concept of the Lever Arm," Ranma said smugly, standing over his father.

Genma-as-panda sprang out of the puddle, bashing Ranma with a sign that said, "Bamboo Barrage." He began hurling stalks of bamboo at his laughing son.

Ranma plucked the stalks out of the air, using his Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire speed, and bounced lightly up into a tree.

Genma sucked in as much water as his larger panda body would allow, and sprayed it up into the leaves.

There was an indignant shriek, a rustle, and Ranma descended feet first and kicked Genma smartly in the head. "No fair, Pops!" she cried, but she was smiling. "Teenybopper Terror!" she screamed, and suddenly she had attached herself to his furry back like a leech on a wart. "Oh, Panda-chan, you're sooo cute and fuzzy, can I pet you?"

Genma fell to his knees, retching at the saccharine tone of voice, and Ranma cackled and disappeared into the forest, spraying Genma with pebbles.

The father and son kept this up until nightfall, when by mutual agreement it was time to eat.

Ranma changed back into his male form using the kettle that they kept on the ring of stones. He started looking through their backpacks for spoons.

Genma felt the burden of responsibility weighing upon his shoulders as he contemplated their tinned food: did he tell Ranma there was a can of imported ravioli left, and therefore have to split it with him, or did he save it for when Ranma was asleep, and feed them both beans right now? Oh, the decisions a parent had to make for his offspring.
The can of ravioli flashed once and was gone.

Genma turned around, to see Ranma sitting by the fire, eating ravioli – how had the boy opened the can that fast? – and grinning.

"You weren't thinking of hiding this from me, were you, Pops?" But then he tossed the already half-finished can to Genma. "You can have the rest."

Genma had raised a good son in spite of himself.

Now came the real responsibility, and one of the reasons for this trip. Nodoka would never forgive him if he failed to address the question. "Son," Genma droned sonorously.

"Yeah, Pops?"

Genma thought fleetingly of the carefree days of yore, before Ranma had been cursed, and before Genma's mistake with the cat pit. He wanted to keep Ranma out here, where the boy still laughed and meant it, and could change into a girl without immediately changing back.

"Son," he began again, "there comes a time in every man's life..." ...when he becomes shackled to a lovely maniac for life. "...when..." ...when he gives up his solitary comforts and trades them for a life of servitude. "...he gives..."

"...his heart to a woman," Ranma completed, setting down the can of beans. "I know. I've already asked Akane, and she needs more time to think. Mom'll give me the ring again in a week."

Genma cleared his throat with a rumble. "Boy," he said, "marriage is..."

"...a commitment. I know that, Father." Ranma brushed some stray hairs from his face. "I'll be faithful to Akane." He smiled crookedly. "Is that what's got you worried? Do you think I'm some lech like Happosai?"

Father? What had happened to 'Pops'?

Genma's eyes refocused foggily. Ranma's feet for a second seemed to dangle from the log rather than reach the ground, and he tugged his falling gi back onto his narrow, sloped shoulders. "Boy..." Genma's voice cracked, and the illusion was gone. Ranma's scuffed black slippers were planted firmly in the dirt, and his broad, muscled shoulders stood out from his tank top as he leaned toward the fire, eyes dark and serious.

How did I deserve a son like this? Genma asked himself, not for the first time.

"Well? What were you going to say?"

We want you to be happy. Genma cleared his throat. "Being a man among men requires integrity."

Ranma's face went white.

Genma was not afraid of his son. "Honesty with oneself."

"Oh, like you're one to –"

"Honesty with one's loved ones."

Ranma fell absolutely silent. He had even stopped breathing. His hand caught the letter that Genma tossed to him, and began trembling.

"Akane-chan showed this letter to us," Genma said. "Your mother and I thought you should have it."

"But...the dojos..." Words leaked slowly out of Ranma's mouth. "Mother..."

"I suspect that being a martial artist's wife is more difficult than we imagine," Genma said heavily, his words laced with regret. "Do not judge your mother too harshly." Nor me. "I know now that she would never have harmed you," -although she would happily have sliced little bits off of me, when she found out about that cat pit- "no matter what the contract said."

Ranma was shaking so violently that the can of beans fell off the log. His voice was thick and barely controlled. "You both...know. About Ryoga and me." The palm of Ranma's hand dug into rough bark and stripped it away. "But I'm supposed to marry Akane, aren't I?"

Genma felt fortunate that he did not have to search for the right words: a set had already been provided to him by Nodoka. "I think you should read the letter and decide for yourself."

As soon as Ranma stepped in the door, Soun Tendo grabbed both of his hands, smiling and sobbing. "How wonderful! My future son-in-law!"

Ranma had a Cologne-inspired aversion to that phrase, and extricated himself as politely as he could, bowing. "Tendo-san." He tried to look past the man's shoulder. "Is my mother in?"

"Of course, of course," Soun wept, ushering him in. "She is in the back room, sewing with Kasumi."

Ranma was happy to steer Soun back to the shogi board, and turned down the hallway.

Kasumi and Ranma's mother both jumped slightly when Ranma appeared in the doorway.

"Ranma-kun," Nodoka said warmly. She snipped off a thread, and held Ranma lovingly with her eyes.

Ranma blinked back sudden tears, conscious of his reeking, mud-stained clothes. Mother loves me. Even when I'm sweaty.

"Mother..."
"Yes, Ranma-kun?" Nodoka asked brightly.

Ranma didn't know where to start. Mom, do you mind if I don't marry Akane after all? Do you mind that I change into a girl? Do you mind if I'm in love with my friend Ryoga?

Ranma felt swiftly that he would die if his mother looked at him in disgust. He, who could punch through steel like tissue paper – he was too fragile. He couldn't bear it. "Nothing, Mom, sorry. I'm gonna take a bath." Ranma turned and shut the door softly behind him.

It was only when Ranma had finished with his bath and entered the guest room that he noticed that his mother, in preparation for his return, had laid out two sets of clean things for him to wear: a set of striped cotton pyjamas, and a slinky silk nightgown printed with hearts.

"Ranma. Ranma, I see you up there. Don't pretend you don't hear me." Akane had been doing aerobics in the backyard with Nabiki, and now she stood in her leotard with her hands on her hips, her hair jutting out at strange angles from her terry-cloth headband.

Ranma closed his eyes briefly, and then vaulted out of the tree. "Hey, Akane. What's up?" He forced a pleasant look onto his face. "Wanna spar?"

Akane smiled. "No, thanks," she said, which surprised Ranma. "Maybe later." She took his hand from his side. "Ranma," she said shyly, giving the hand a little tug, "Would you like to get some ice cream?"

Oh, no. That was the one thing he couldn't pretend to be: Ryoga, going on an ice-cream date with Ranma. That would be far too painful.

"I don't think you need ice cream right now," Ranma said, the words leaping out of his mouth before he could stop them, his free hand gesturing automatically to Akane's thighs as cruelly as he could. His heart wrenched as he saw the hurt pass over Akane's face, but the next words out of Akane's mouth shocked him.

"Oh, Ranma," Akane said evenly. "Stuff it. There's nothing wrong with my thighs and we both know it. Now, I'll get cleaned up, and we will go out. Got it?" She didn't wait for him to respond, and marched inside.

Ranma couldn't help sneaking glances at Akane all the way downtown. Akane hadn't pounded him to a pulp for saying something stupid? Hiroshi really was good for her. He almost, but not quite, wished he were in love with her; Akane in a short skirt and not angry was a real catch.

Akane found them a booth. Ranma ordered in a daze, at a loss for words. Pretend she's you. Come on. What would you want Ryoga to say?

I love you. Let's visit Prague.

No, dummy, you can't say either of those things to her.

"Ranma..." Akane's voice was sad.

Ranma looked up. Darn it, have I made her cry? I haven't said anything yet!

"I just don't understand. Didn't they show you the letter?"

Ranma didn't respond, and Akane decided to keep talking to fill the silence. "I was so furious at –" she caught herself abruptly. She didn't need Nabiki to tell her that revealing her father would cause more trouble than it was worth. "- at – um - whoever it was for writing Return to Sender when he or she should have just put it back through the post. That's what you do with a letter that's arrived at the wrong address, and that must have been what had happened." Akane trailed off. "They did show it to you, didn't they?" A tic began to jump in her cheek.

"Yeah, they showed it to me," Ranma said finally, and Akane's face calmed down.

"And did you read it?" Akane's voice was unaccountably anxious.

Ranma looked down. "No."

"Ranma!" Akane halted her fist a millimeter from the table and smiled brightly at the waitress who came by with their ice creams. "Thank you," she said demurely.

Akane rounded on Ranma as soon as the waitress had left. "Ranma!" she exploded as quietly as she could. "You love Ryoga! And he wrote you a letter! Why couldn't you just read it?"

Ranma's expression was strangely blank, his eyes shining too clearly, too guilelessly. "Because I'm engaged to you."

"Oh, Ranma! As if that matters!"

Ranma's reply was soft but wounding: "It matters to me."

Akane gaped at Ranma in aggravation. Of course it mattered to him. She would have remembered that if she hadn't felt that the solution to Ranma's problems was so blindingly obvious. "Ranma, I know our fathers have an agreement, but you know, Nabiki told me – if both parties agree, you can change a contract."

Ranma frowned, and Akane sighed in frustration. "It's not backing out, it's renegotiating." Nabiki would have said this much more convincingly, Akane was sure of it.

Nevertheless, some of the clouds seemed to have lifted from Ranma's expression, and he picked up his spoon. "Nabiki said that?"

"Yes."

The spoon lowered back to the glass-topped table. "Akane...do you want to be my fiancee?"

Akane paused. She had pined for Ranma, she had fought with Ranma, and she had grown up with Ranma. She loved him with the same certainty she had known despite all of their childish denials. She knew instinctively that she would die for him and feel that she had been granted a favor. "No."

Ranma waited for a while to let this sink in. The great Ranma Saotome, rejected.

"Are you – gonna marry Hiroshi, then?" Ranma asked tentatively

Akane shook her head. "No. Maybe. But not right now. Right now I'm not going to marry anyone." She took a breath, gaining courage. "I've got to finish school, and maybe Nabiki will help me with the entrance exams to college. Hiroshi is nice, but, who knows," she shrugged. "I might meet someone later, too. But-" she looked directly at Ranma, "you know who you love."

Ranma tried to sort through his emotions. I'm not Akane's fiance any more. It was a curious statement. Who had he been before he'd been engaged to Akane? He'd just been a kid, who had trained a lot. He and Akane had come a long way together. "Akane..."

Ranma looked up and read a wealth of understanding in Akane's eyes. I wish I'd known she could be like this before.

They ate their ice cream in silence, thoughts of their futures – their separate futures – roiling in their heads.

When they had finished, and were looking at each other with satisfied expressions, Akane said timidly, "Ranma, one thing?"

"Yeah?"

"Keep sparring with me. Please."

Ranma's eyes hooded. "Sure, tomboy," he said easily. He put a bill on the table, enough to cover both of their ice creams and then, before Akane realized what he was doing, dunked his hand in his glass of water. "But you'll have to catch me first."

Oh, drat. Akane thought, slithering awkwardly out of the booth. He's faster as a girl.

Ranma strode in with Akane, and the two stood side by side at the shogi board. "Tendo-san-" Ranma began.

"Excellent!" Soun exclaimed. "Of course I give my blessing!"

Akane pulled Ranma back. "Daddy, wait," she cautioned. "Listen to Ranma."

"Tendo-san," Ranma began again, "We would like to renegotiate the contract."

From across the room, Nabiki put down the Business section of the newspaper and went to go get Auntie Nodoka.

Soun frowned. "Renegotiate?"

"Akane and I are no longer engaged."

Soun steadied his hand on the shogi table, lips quivering. "Nabiki?" he queried, without much hope. "Kasumi?" There was slightly more hope there.

Ranma shook his head at each name.

"But-" Soun turned his head to stare at Genma. "But the dojos must be joined!"

"Oh, Daddy."

Everyone turned in surprise to look at Nabiki, whose voice was unusually and unnervingly affectionate. "Daddy, really. Why did you make the contract to begin with?"

Soun looked at the small fake-ivory pieces on the table and realized that he had about to make a losing move.

"I think I know. You wanted us to be happy, and provided for." Nabiki smiled ruefully. "But life is like the stock market, Daddy. There are no guarantees."

Hearing the word "Daddy" so many times from his coldest daughter was making Soun feel as though he'd had one too many cups of sake.

"It would be impossible, of course, for any of us to be happy knowing that our husband was thinking of someone else. And he is."

If Soun had thought he was going to lose the shogi game, he knew he was going to lose this argument. He didn't understand where Nabiki had gotten her wily personality from. Surely neither he nor her mother had been quite so complicated.

"Are you sure about that?" Soun asked, looking at Ranma.

As if on cue, Kasumi looked over from the kitchen, and the sprayer with which she was washing vegetables caught Ranma's cheek.

"Tendo-san," Ranma pleaded, her eyes large and dewy, "I've tried to deny it, but I simply can't. My true feelings are for a boy."

Genma made a strange choking sound beside Soun.

"And Father..." Kasumi emerged from the kitchen drying her hands. She put one of them on Ranma's shoulder. "We love Ranma-chan like a sister – or brother-, and you certainly love Saotome-san like a brother, so your wish has been fulfilled already. The dojos have been joined."

Genma! The freeloading wretch was as bad as Master Happosai, was what Soun wanted to say, but he couldn't. Having Genma and his family practically living here soothed the void that the girls' mother had left. The constant excitement, and Nodoka's fruit and vegetable gardens, had added a flavor to Soun's life that he would crave if it were to leave.

"So here," Nabiki added smoothly, "renegotiation is really a redefinition of terms. In place of joining the dojos by marriage, we have joining the dojos as a figurative ligature, deferring to the common usage of "join" as a union of..."

When it was over, Nabiki hugged her father. "By the way, Daddy, the bill for my first college semester will be arriving soon." She smiled at Akane's exasperated look. "But don't worry about it. I've won a scholarship, and the bursar should be crediting it to my account within the next two weeks."

Soun reviewed the wreckage of his plans and found that there really wasn't much that had been wrecked. A kind-looking boy named Hiroshi came by to collect Akane for the evening, and by ten o'clock they were back, setting up a telescope in the yard. Kasumi received a phone call from that doctor at the clinic, and spent an hour on the phone murmuring in a low voice while the doctor on the other end stuttered. Nabiki showed Nodoka how to make something they were calling a "spreadsheet." Ranma changed into a gi and taught the evening class at the dojo. And Soun, having saved himself from his earlier mistake, won over Genma at shogi.

That night, Kasumi moved her mother's kimono from her own room back into Akane's, and Nodoka went home and fetched her sewing machine, as there was no further reason to stall.

"Woah, who's that?"

"I don't know, but did you see those muscles?"

"Oh, my gosh, he's looking this way!"

"Not at you, I'm sure!"

Ranma looked up. "Is there a problem?" she asked. After a few rough and incredulous sessions, and after a few stern but gently-delivered words from Kasumi, even the most standoffish of students had accepted their dual Ranma/Ranko-sensei. Ranma taught in either form these days, as the mood suited him, but he still preferred his girl form, possibly out of habit.

"Er – Ranko-sensei," ventured one student bravely, "there's a guy outside."

Ranma looked up calmly. "Oh." She glanced over at Akane.

Akane looked up at just the right instant. Her eyes widened. "Go ahead, I'll combine the classes," she said, craning her neck as curiously as any of the students.

Ranma loosened her belt, reached over to the corner, and grabbed a thermos to change into a guy.

The students tittered nervously.

"She changed. Are they going to fight?"

Ranma tossed the thermos back into the corner and went lightly down the steps.

Ryoga turned to face Ranma. "I found you." He had one hand in a fist and the other cupping it, almost as if they were about to fight a duel.

"So you did." Had Ryoga actually come here to fight?

Ryoga looked at the faces crowded around the dojo door. "Do you always have this much of an audience?"

"When I'm teaching, yes."

"So be it."

The first punch was straight and to the point: Why did you send back my letters?

The block and the uppercut feint were a fitting response: You sent them to the Tendo dojo, you fool. I only got the last one.

The leg sweep was no surprise: Are you still dating Akane?

The quick volley of blows to the chest said clearly: What the hell do you think?

The kiss was hard and unexpected and came like an attack. Ranma's back cracked against the tree in the yard, and when they came up for air, he slammed Ryoga into the same tree. It was such a relief, to be able to kiss someone he couldn't hurt if he tried, at least not physically.

The shocked silence in the dojo erupted into an excited babble, and someone, probably Akane, slid the door shut with a bang.

"What if my...mother...is watching?" Ranma gasped.

Ryoga bared his fangs. He had a ring tucked in his backpack, a ring that Ranma's mother had given him, that said she wouldn't mind at all. He pulled Ranma closer.

Suzuki-sensei glanced up from her papers and put a large green streak over one of them by accident. A red-headed girl in the most stunning kimono had appeared silently and was standing over her desk.

"May I help you?" Suzuki-sensei asked when she had her voice back.

"Yes, I'm in your class," the redhead said pleasantly.

Suzuki-sensei reached for her roster in something akin to panic. Surely she should have recognized this student.

"Saotome. Saotome Ranma."
Suzuki-sensei tried to conjure up a face for the name and came up with a slightly cocky-looking boy, black hair. He had usually been silent, and had sat in the back of the class. He hadn't been in for several weeks. And, most importantly, he'd been a he. Or had he?

Suzuki-sensei took another admiring glance at the girl's kimono. Someone had tailored it with love, choosing exactly the right fabrics to set off the girl's coloring. It was a wonder what a nice dress and some new hairstyling could do. "You have missed several classes," she said finally, tearing her eyes away in order to look at the attendance marks.

"I'd like to continue with the class. Will that be possible?"

"Well..." Truancy was not to be tolerated, but on the other hand, there were so many students who just slid through the cracks when something came up.

The girl sensed a weak resistance and pressed it. "If I get an A in every assignment from now on, will I be able to pass?"

Suzuki-sensei pursed her lips, her attention now completely on the gradebook. Saotome Ranma had been doing pretty good work. "Yes, your grade will recover in that case." She looked up and nodded. "I will certainly allow you to try. But, I am warning you, it will be difficult to make up all of the material for the days you have missed."

The girl looked back serenely and tossed her pigtail over her shoulder. "Anything goes," she said. She smiled and bowed. "Thank you, sensei."

A few seconds after the girl had left, Suzuki-sensei thought she heard someone say something like, "Not in the dress my mom made for me, Happosai, you old pervert! I'm gonna knock you into the next century!" and she thought she felt a giant tremor...but she dismissed that as a side effect of having done one too many integrations in the complex plane, and decided it was time to go home.

A/N: That's a wrap!