I claim no ownership rights to any of the works of Rumiko Takahashi.
"Will I what?" Ranma stared her host, eyes wide. "Could ya say that again? I thought I heard ya ask me to marry you."
"I did." Win leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his face with a sigh. "You can't keep running, sooner or later someone is going to catch you ... and if no one does, you'll probably end up dying in a doorway or alley, or turning to prostitution—anything to stay below the radar. So you need a way to turn yourself in to the suits without just disappearing, and marrying me will give us that."
"But ... but ... would that even be legal? I mean, as a girl I don't exist—no birth record, no medical records, no school records, nothin'!"
"I know," Win agreed, "and that's why you being eighteen simplifies things—if you were under eighteen I'd have to try to adopt you instead, and that would have been a problem." At Ranma's incredulous stare, he sighed. "The point is to create a recognized relationship between us so that if you just disappear I can get loud and not be brushed off. They might be able to make you vanish into a black hole but they can't do the same thing to me, I have friends."
"I don't get it. Why can we get married if you can't adopt me? Don't you need records either way?"
"For a legal marriage, yes. But you aren't thinking about it like an American ... or at least, like a lot of Americans, millions of us. For us, the legal forms are just an acknowledgement of a religious truth—if we stand before a pastor and exchange our vows then we're married, whatever the law says. Which means that if you then disappear and I publicly demand to know what happened to my wife, those millions of Americans will take that status seriously—and so take me seriously—whatever the law says."
"I—" Ranma pushed herself up out of her seat and began to pace—the kitchen was small, but she needed to move ... because Win's statement had resonated with Ranma's own code, that she had evolved in reaction to her father's poor example. (Not that she had the strength yet for much more than walking back and forth, it was going to take a little while for her ki reserves to recover.) Finally, she turned to look at Win. "Ya aren't wrong. If we swear we're married then we're married, whatever the law says."
"Yes."
Ranma waited but Win didn't add anything to his one-word response, and she finally sat back down and shrugged. "I dunno if I'm that desperate yet."
Win sighed and shrugged himself. "You'll have a little while to make up your mind, I have to go to work. I won't be back until tomorrow morning, please don't leave my apartment until then—anyone will be able to tell you aren't military at a glance, so wandering around you will be stopped by the military police and you don't have any identification. You can eat whatever you want in the kitchen, feel free to cook if you can. Don't turn on the TV, they can probably tell if anyone's using the cable, but you can read any of my books ... can you read English?" When a bemused Ranma nodded, he continued, "My taste in music runs to country, folk, and celtic. It isn't much like anything I've heard on the radio here in Japan, but try out whatever discs you want. Oh, and feel free to grab a shower, you need it as bad as your clothes did."
With that he was out the door, leaving Ranma to the empty apartment.
/\
Ranma grabbed a quick shower then checked out the books on the shelf (glancing over the photographs on a few of the shelves of her host and a smiling earth-haired woman a few years older than Ranma—she wondered who the woman was, there certainly wasn't any evidence of a woman living the apartment), but those books she checked out ran to 'westerns' and mysteries. Her English wasn't that good so the mysteries were out ... the one she tried, she was sure she was missing all sorts of background that she needed to really understand what was going on. The western she picked out pretty much at random was better—simple plot and an implicit honor code she could approve of—but she was too distracted to immerse herself in the adventure as Win's offer and everything he'd said around it kept circling in her mind. And it was too quiet.
Finally she grabbed a music disc at random—she didn't recognize a single name or title in the collection—and put it in the player on looping random shuffle just so there'd be other voices in the apartment, keeping the volume down enough that the neighbors shouldn't be able to hear it. As the unfamiliar music started she began practicing what she knew of Tai Chi, slowed down to the meditation speed that the size of the apartment's main room and her still-recovering strength permitted.
And then as she flowed through kata after kata, the words of one of the songs eventually caught her attention—she had no idea how many times it had already repeated—and her current kata slowed and then stopped as she listened. Listened as someone sang of being lost in a world where nothing felt right, and whenever panic set in dreaming of Columbus sailing into the unknown, until peace comes to a traveling heart.
The song ended, but she didn't hear the new song, not really, beyond having to do with Ireland somehow. Instead she drifted over to the window, surprised to find the world outside covered by night. She had gotten so caught up in her thoughts and her katas that she hadn't even eaten since the breakfast Win had cooked.
Win ... he said not to leave the apartment. But still ...
She hurried to the kitchen and searched the cupboards, checked the fridge, and hastily slapped together a couple ham and cheese sandwiches, grabbed some blankets out of the closet, then headed out the front door. It took a few moments, checking the side of the apartment building, to find a route up the side to the roof and just as few to leap up from window to window, even as weak as she was. Once on the roof she spread out one of the blankets on the slanted roof just below the peak, scarfed down the sandwiches, wrapped herself in the other blanket, and lay down on the first blanket to gaze up at her only constant friends, the stars.
/oOo\
Brigadier General Gene Layton winced when his cell phone went off, with that ring tone. He hastily rose from his seat at his residence's dining room table with an apologetic look for his wife standing in the kitchen doorway. "Hopefully this will only take a few minutes, dear."
His wife sighed as she looked down at the two plates full of steaming steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans. "Hurry before dinner gets cold."
"I will." Hurrying to his personal study, Layton closed and locked the door and pulled out his phone. "General Layton speaking, what's happening?"
"The target has left Lieutenant Blake's apartment and ... and she just went up the side of the building like a mountain goat... Apparently, she's having a picnic on the roof... Make that a nap."
" ... A nap."
"Yes, sir."
Layton thought rapidly, then sighed. "Widen the observation parameter, remember the target's ability to use roofs to move around. Do not attempt to intercept unless she tries to leave. If she stays on the roof or goes back into the apartment, all well and good."
"Widen the observation parameter, do not attempt to intercept unless she tries to leave. Understood."
Ending the call, Layton stared down at the phone in his hand for a long moment. "I hope all is well and good. Win, you're too good a pilot—too good a man—to be putting your career at risk like this. We need you, what the hell are you playing at?" He finally put the phone in his pocket with a sigh and headed back to the dining room ... this was the night that his wife pulled out all the stops for dinner, and both of them had been looking forward to it all week.
/oOo\
Hundreds of miles to the south, another girl sat on a roof staring up at the stars that were now the only thing she shared with Ranma, ignoring her slight shivering—the nighttime temperature at Tokyo wasn't as cold as at Misawa Air Base, but it was cold enough. Her raven-hued hair had once been long and luxuriant, her personal treasure, before it had been cut off by a flying ki-hardened bandana that had come within a few inches of taking off her head instead. After that she had kept it trimmed just below her ears ... until Ranma had had to leave town. Then she had let it grow out to shoulder length and braided it into a pigtail like her former fiancé's, just so she could see the shame in Nabiki and the fathers' eyes every time they saw her.
"Akane, come to bed. You have school in the morning, and you don't want to catch cold."
Akane smiled at the soft voice below her, of the only person in the world that she knew loved her unconditionally. Sayuri and Yuka were friends, but they weren't that close; Nodoka was wonderful now that no one was afraid of the seppuku contract anymore, but she had to be clinging to the daughters of her old friend as a replacement for the son she thought was dead; Akane didn't even want to think about her father and middle sister. "You know that's a myth, Kasumi."
"Perhaps not as much of one as you might think. Weather may not cause colds, but it can make you more likely to catch cold, and harder to fight it off. And there's no point in making yourself miserable just because Ranma might be."
"I know, it's just ..." She sighed and rose to a crouch. "Get out of the way, I'm coming in." She waited a moment, then dropped off the roof, twisted to grab the edge, and swung through the open window to land beside her sister. Rising to her feet, she embraced Kasumi as tears leaked out of eyes clenched shut. "I miss him ... her. I miss her."
After a moment, Kasumi's arms rose to return the hug. "I miss her too, little sis, I miss her too."
/oOo\
Win yawned as he opened his apartment door, then hesitated at the smell of frying sausage. His wife had always had a breakfast ready when he'd pulled an all-nighter, but Ranma wouldn't have known when he was likely to come home. Shrugging, he headed to the kitchen to find the redhead at the stove frying a couple sausages with the package of the rest sitting on the counter next to the egg carton waiting their turn.
Ranma glanced over her shoulder as he walked in and forced a stiff smile, then grabbed a couple more sausages from the package. "Have a seat, breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. How so you like your eggs?"
"Scrambled is fine." Win grabbed silverware and glasses and orange juice for them both, then sat at the table and waited silently as Ranma finished cooking breakfast. The pair ate in a continuing tense silence, and once they were finished Win pushed back from the table and was just opening his mouth to ask about her decision when Ranma swallowed and hastily spoke up.
"I was listening to your music—interesting songs, I've never heard anything like it—and it made me think. Don't call me Ranma anymore, I've decided to go by Toshiko instead. 'Ranma' might be too well known by all the wrong people and Toshiko seems like it fits."
" 'Toshiko'? Why is it appropriate? What was the song?"
"It's the full name, Mom's clan name of Tatsuno with Toshiko, that fits, you can make it into Dragon of the Sea. The song, I didn't get the title ... 'I dream of Columbus'?"
'Columbus', Mary Black. Tatsuno Toshiko—tatsu no otoshigo. The Japanese name for the seahorse. She was right, it fit, whatever she had decided. "To—"
"I'll do it."
" ... What?"
Ranma—Toshiko—was staring at the table top, blushing furiously, but her voice was unhesitating. "You're right, I can't keep running, but if you aren't sure you can trust your bosses, I can't either. I'll marry you."
Author's Note: A long time back, on the now-defunct Anime Addventure site (I really wish someone would start up another site like that, I'd cross-post my stories in a heartbeat), when someone had asked about alternate names for Ranma I suggested Kaiba, a name I got from the story Blood Calls Out for Blood by Miriani. It was pointed out to me that "Kaiba" is just "sea horse" in Japanese, but that they actually call it "tatsu no otoshigo"—and that for that "Tatsuno Toshiko" will work just fine. As a result, "Tatsuno" has become my go-to name for Nodoka's birth clan name. One interesting tidbit I learned from my research is that the Japanese Federation of the Deaf uses the seahorse as their emblem, because of a legend that dragons have no ears and are deaf because those ears fell into the ocean and became seahorses—so seahorses are literally "dragons of the sea."
Here's the lyrics for the song mentioned in the chapter that gives the chapter its name:
Better keep your distance from this whale
Better keep your boat from going astray
Find yourself a partner and treat them well
Try to give them shelter night and day
'Cos here in this blue light
Far away from the fireside
Things can get twisted and crazy and crowded
You can't even feel right
So you dream of Columbus, every time the panic starts
You dream of Columbus, with your maps and your beautiful charts
You dream of Columbus, with an ache in your travelling heart
See how the cormorant swoops and dives
Must be some thrill to go that deep
Down to the basement of this life
Down to where the mermaid gently sleeps
Not like here in this blue light
Far away from the fireside
Where things can get twisted and haunted and crowded
You can't even feel alright
So you dream of Columbus, every time the panic starts
You dream of Columbus, with your maps and your beautiful charts
You dream of Columbus, with an ache in your travelling heart
And as tide must ebb and flow
I am dragged down under
And I wait the livelong day
For an end to my hunger
So I dream of Columbus, every time that the panic starts
I dream of Columbus, with my maps and my beautiful charts
I dream of Columbus, and there's peace in a travelling heart
I dream of Columbus